Hip waders? Check! Rubber gloves? Check! Clothes I can get dirty? Check!
I loved gearing up for Adopt-A-Stream with science teacher Mimi Lieberman in Middle School. About once a month, this fearless woman loaded a minibus of wild, treasure-seeking kiddos for the three-minute drive to a nearby creek.
We did important work like checking pH levels in the creek and recording volunteer hours, but I mostly remember the thrill of exploration. We never knew what we’d find. Plastic bags, bottles and loose trash were always abundant, but on every trip we uncovered some unexpected surprise waiting for us, half-buried in debris or creek bank.
The mangled metal of a full shopping cart caught us off guard. Who put that there?
A catfish carcass? Yes, it stunk, and yes, the boys chased the girls around with the bloated fish.
How in the world did a manhole cover wash down such a small creek? Those chunks of metal weigh a few hundred pounds!
The fun of each adventure still resonates with me, and so does the disappointment of seeing all our hard work seemingly undone time after time. We’d work for hours to clean up our part of the creek, only to see it scattered with trash again upon our return.
That experience had a quiet impact on me, teaching me early on about responsibility, service and conservation. I still look for daily opportunities to pick up trash in our neighborhood, around a parking lot or by the office.
I think the biggest lesson I learned centered on servant leadership. Leaders get their hands dirty, and they do it over and over again. Working with friends and mentors in those formidable years set a framework for the coming decades when the need to suit up and clean up still calls.
Thanks, Mrs. Lieberman, and I’m sorry again about the catfish.
— David Jones ’04