Jerry Lust

Meet  Jerry Lust.

What you see is what you get - Jerry as he lives and breathes.

I was to meet him in week one of my studies. With an enthusiasm for learning and finding his path that you simply could not overlook. His demeanor made it hard to believe he was a mere 17 years old.   

Almost 10 years later, I find myself discussing the question of Hope in the conservation field with him and I am grateful he took the time for me. 

As a trainer and didactic developer, Jerry found his place in a foundation working with the fishing- and seafaring industry towards sustainable fisheries and shipping; through education of marine professionals and working on marine environmental awareness and competence of the crew. He also works as an educator, storyteller and mudflat-guide, aiming at more sustainable behavior and respect for nature of all tourists he takes on his excursions. 

On this journey of mine I want to shed light on what hope means to people in the conservation field, and what shape it takes for them. An honest dive into what it is that keeps these souls going in what some can experience as a constant uphill battle. 

Why was this something that he thought was interesting to take part in, I ask him.

He feels that we all want to be part of something bigger than ourselves, to create a better space. Jerry has seen the struggle with that ‘mission’ when it seems slow or unattainable. Maybe we can look for another mindset or attitude so we can keep going, without losing ourselves, or finding ourselves drained when there are no tangible results, he muses. 

It was beautiful to hear Jerry talk about observing similar things in others - even young ones just starting out. It made me feel less alone. Mostly unaware, he honed in and sometimes accurately put the fingers on exactly those struggles I found myself with over the years. What a wonderful start to it all!

So, why is it we feel this way, I ask him. 

“Let’s start by looking at why we chose this path?”, he replies. A love for nature for many, certainly for Jerry and I. 

For me, also fear of what was happening in the world. 

For Jerry, however, a desire to change was not a major driver. More so the enthusiasm for the work.

“Do you do conservation for loving the act of it, or are you hoping to be the thread of change?”, he asks.

His enthusiasm has not wavered, and that touched me. No cynicism seems to have entered his heart, which is beautiful. 

Yes, he would like to see change. But the happiness in himself, the drive and the energy to move forward is not intricately interwoven with being able to see the impact, or the perceived magnitude of it. Jerry is fueled by the love for his job, and a faith that what he does makes a difference. Even if it isn’t always tangible. Even when he is tired. Even when he feels he has not reached anyone in his training lately.

“Small things make big things, and you’ve got to start small.”, he says.

“Seeing the impact, that’s really hard. Being hopeful when you can see it, that’s easy. Being hopeful when you can’t, then you need trust.”, he continues. “Even if the waters are murky. That is more difficult, but also more powerful.”.

So should trust come before hope? 

When I ask him how he keeps going, he happens to touch on a core of my thoughts around hope. “50 % faith”, he says, and “50% of loving what I do and what I learn daily about my job, myself and others.”. It is about what he can learn for the future, and he feels gratitude for it. Funny how gratitude never entered my mind in the context of conservation. 

Jerry manages something I never really considered myself. His foundation has more than one pillar. And the perceived absence of change does not crush him, or throw him into a world of doubt. And yet, that is the crucial bit, he is not emotionally detached. 

If your goal is your focus, and you get trapped in tunnel vision; if the way is not important to you, then Jerry beautifully states, it “leaves you in a vulnerable position”. 

Maybe, he makes me wonder, by making sure your foundation is broader than the goal alone, you build something to prevent yourself from really falling into deep pits. 

In a way, he takes care of himself that way. Jerry, the human. Not Jerry, the conservationist only. As he puts it, “You need a long breath.”, for strength is fed by more than the goal alone. And he has no idea how much he has just nailed a major aspect of my struggles. 

But how do we deal with resistance? Especially as the conservation sector can often be regarded as the elite, blaming and finger-pointing. How can we break this image, as it can often-times be the first and foremost barrier to connect.

To Jerry, we as a (generalised) sector fail to celebrate the good, and the change that does happen. And bless, I would be lying if I have not thought to myself before, “Great, but that’s not enough or good enough!”. We keep nagging, Jerry observes, and I have to laugh. It sounds so familiar. 

And this is where my question of Hope comes in. My concern is that hope originates in despair. Jerry less negatively dubbed it a place of urgency. We needed change yesterday, it is too late! Great this has happened, but what about that? Move, move, move, be faster, be better! 

We seem to be increasingly aware of appreciating the process. To be grateful for the small things that are dotted along our line of progress. There seems to be an ever-growing sense of positivity and the impact of it in life. And heck, relationships of mine have ended because my partners refused to see the good things and the beauty in the world, the changes. I myself am wildly unwilling to let negativity overwhelm me, no matter how hard it can feel. Gratitude and celebrating the small things, as well as internalising that this a marathon  - it creates joy in the process, feeds trust, and in Jerry’s words, contributes to the long breath. 

Yet, in conservation and my role in it, I fell into the trap. Surely I am not the only one. As Jerry and I continue to talk, I feel this sense of mine confirmed, this feeling I have had over the years. One that Jerry elegantly manages to put into words.