Generation green - youth fight for planet - Brief Article

Sierra, Nov, 2000 by Heather Millar

Mike works with studied concentration. His father, a policeman, no doubt taught him old-fashioned values: work hard, respect authority. Mike likes to scuba dive, play darts, down a few beers with friends. "I'm not a tree-hugger type," he says. "But I am worried about the planet. I have little nephews. I'll have kids someday. I don't want them to see the aftermath of what we've done. I want them to see a cleaner world."

Mike and I work for about 45 minutes, moving about ten yards north. The vastness of the job stuns me: Removing the 70 acres of grass will take hundreds of hours, weeks and weeks of weeding. I can't believe that next year, a new crew will have to do this job all over again, since it usually takes several weedings before the rhizomes die. My fingers are starting to blister; my forearms ache. I glance at my watch every few minutes, hoping for quitting time. I don't want to chicken out, but finally I say "Man, this is hard work."

Ricky Arzdorf, a rail-thin 20-year-old with a wisp of a beard, blond dreadlocks, and a hemp hair-tie, pipes up, "I'm glad this grass is hard to pull out. This European beach grass is supposed to be an invasive species? Well, humans are an invasive species." The difficulty of the work emphasizes the magnitude of the task these young environmentalists see before them: not just removing beach grass, but repairing all the damage people have done to the planet.

halfway across the country, young activists are engaged in equally important--if less back-breaking-labor, going door-to-door preaching the environmental gospel. I find their Minneapolis office by following the nerve-jangling rhythm of the Beastie Boys to a couple of nondescript basement rooms in the Technology Center at the University of Minnesota. It is a hurricane of young people: They answer phones. They pore over maps. They have intense conversations. They do high-fives. They hug. They joke. They make a swirl of cargo pants and flip-flops, of hip-huggers and college T-shirts.

With all the activity, it takes a few moments before anyone notices me, the lone person older than 25. Then someone turns and says with enthusiasm, "Hi! You must be looking for Naomi!"

Naomi Roth, 23, a recent graduate of Skidmore College in Saratoga Springs, New York, runs this summer's Minneapolis campaign for the Fund for Public Interest Research, a nonprofit, national canvassing operation founded by the Public Interest Research Groups. Around the country, almost a thousand young people in 56 Fund offices are canvassing for the Sierra Club, the National Parks and Conservation Association, the Southern Utah Wilderness Alliance, and other organizations.

In Minneapolis, Naomi and her troops are drumming up support for a Sierra Club membership drive and anti-logging campaign. Up on the wall of their office, rainbow-colored construction-paper letters announce: "Summer goals: 87,500 conversations, 4,375 new members, $300,000."

With energy and sparkle that is part camp counselor, part revival preacher, and part polished politician, Naomi says brightly, "Hey! I've got to meet with a few people. You're going to come canvassing with me later. Why don't you let Kelly show you around?"