Kazz Padidar

“I can see changes happen here in Jersey”, and he loves it because “it doesn’t have to be a thousand miles away”. It can start at our very own doorstep. The small changes in society, such as more interest in foraging and whole fungus communities coming about, are what he finds hope in.

And as I listen to Kazz, I cannot help but feel that there is sentiment in his words that has become rather rare these days. Not only does he tell nature’s stories, he also realises that every human being has their own - and that within our stories lies the key to connect nature with human - rather than human with nature.

It comes down to an essential question we all share. “What is it that makes you feel good?”, Kazz asks, and continues to question, “what do others relate to?”. Is it sunsets, or sitting in certain places, a childhood memory, a certain sensation? I do share this with Kazz, so very much. You don’t have to be a conservationist to love the natural world. In this project of mine, I urge people to think back to the last time nature made them smile or laugh, or calmed them, helped them. There is a key there to your own path and how you contribute to what we ultimately all share.

Kazz builds others’ respect for the environment, and has not forgotten to cultivate the same towards those he teaches. He puts his finger on something so crucial when he tells me how you have to find “the passion and strength” within yourself to say, “alright, that is your opinion, and that is fine - maybe consider looking at it from this point of view.”

I feel that it is an approach so very powerful in terms of change and tearing down the walls of judgement often-times encountered in our world nowadays. Remember, this man is talking about “his family”, and yet he refuses to become defensive about it, and it is something we can all learn from. Over time, I came to realise it had been a personal hurdle to overcome myself.

And really, it is a choice we can all make. It is a choice Kazz has made, I realise. It is all about silver linings - not as a consolation prize, but because to him it is the only way to be. And this becomes even clearer when we start talking of moments of doubts in his career, and what has kept him going.

During his work with local communities in turtle conservation, he had to realise that the very same people he thought he had gotten through during the day, still went out at night to (eggs/turtles?). The message he thought had been brought across was disregarded at night in favour of long-standing and deeply ingrained culture. And I can’t help but notice his choice of words as it isn’t nearly as bleak as you would expect.

“Yes, of course you get a bit down-hearted”, and he continues with some examples closer to home. Economics being favoured over proposed grass-roots projects, or politics in other places.

Yet, almost in the same breath he recounts - animatedly as we know him - what I would call examples. But with him, they turn into stories of success from around the world that “married money and nature beautifully”. They simply take more precedence in his thinking than the negative ones. I don’t know if this has come naturally to him, but I do get to see how he roots himself in the good he knows and has experienced, in the real magic of it.

And I am coming to believe that it is very much a way of thinking we can, and should cultivate. “Spreading these stories, and telling them is what gives me ultimate hope”, he states, and is convinced that “with just a small few things done in the right way, everyone's a winner”.

To me, Kazz is an example of how mighty your choice of perspective can be. “It never seems like it is just that one way!”, he tells me. So yes, of course, he hears and sees what could be improved within one project even. But there’s so much more positive to focus on.

And again, isn’t this a very human learning? Find the silver linings, and they’ll snowball into light. Into a positive bias, until it becomes a habit and embedded in how you approach the world.

So I ask Kazz whether it is the good stories that kept him going in his darker moments. His answer is as wise as it is beautiful, and truly strikes a chord with me.

“You don’t give up just because it is bad, or because something is not looking very good; you don’t throw the towel in”, he shares and goes on, “if you give up on something that you are so passionate about, that your beliefs are anchored in, then that’s when you lose hope for humanity. Cause when you lose it yourself, then that’s it, isn’t it?”.

Isn’t it indeed? Kazz’s words reverberate to my very core, it is so simple, yet fundamental. And I immediately feel reminded of a quote by my favourite author Carl Safina that brought me here in the first place:

“...it takes courage to admit that not all is lost. … Doing nothing is also the answer that brings zero satisfaction to the human spirit. And so the quest.”

I could never quite relate to this until recently, and it made me wonder about hope and how we keep going in what can seem hopeless. Hearing Kazz’s words brings the quote to life for me. I gave up for a little while - or wavered at least. And I am beginning to learn that it simultaneously made me give up on the world a little bit, and on myself. Kazz makes me think that hope and tangible outcomes, or always getting it right might be slightly besides the point. It is what the absence of hope and faith would mean that should drive us.