Giving Back
San Jose, CA
2021, Junior, Creative Writing
I remember the first day I saw you—a sheet of sparkling blue stretching so far and wide that no matter how hard I looked, there was no end in sight. I had sand trickling down my feet and salty water running down my hair. But it was only recently that I realized how important you are: from the smallest gifts like fish and salt, to the very oxygen that keeps us alive. You keep us warm and cool, taking the effects of climate change on your shoulders. You give us so much to take and keep, while we respond by polluting your waters with manure. You instilled in me happy memories of walking along the shore to a fleeting sunset at our local fishing wharf and witnessing the mysterious moonlight that protruded the dark light under the bridge at Gangneung. Blissful memories of building sandcastles that would crumble away every time the waves passed, or of the times you showed me a pod of dolphins gliding across the surface. We’ve relied so heavily on you—depended on you so much—that now you and your fish, your reefs, your entirety is ailing. And just how doctors cure our maladies, let this be a way for me to help cure you.
The ocean makes up over 70% of our Earth. And in that 70%, the majority of life, made up of over one million different species, lives there. Each and every one of us is connected to the ocean. In fact, it would be better to say that we rely on the ocean. In the U.S. alone, coastal regions are home to over 40% of its population, while only accounting for 10% of the land. While they don’t live in the U.S., my grandparents are one of the millions that live in these coastal regions. And to say that they are connected to the ocean would be an understatement. Every time we video call, I see racks of seaweed and bowls of clams and fish on the porch. I can spot halibut, mackerel, conch, little necks—one time even an octopus. When I visit, I can always smell the salty air despite the fact that we’re inside a 16-story apartment. The fishing poles are still in the living room, dripping wet; the bait box is still on the floor. It has become so customary that without it, it would just seem like an empty building. Their house is the ocean. This has been their lives since they were my age, and many others share the same story. Currently, over three billion people rely on ocean products for protein, totaling around 143.8 million tonnes of seafood per year. But seafood isn’t the only thing the ocean provides for us. Ocean currents constantly regulate the temperature, as they distribute heat across different bodies of water. Without these currents, our Earth would “be super hot at the equator and frigid toward the poles—and much less of Earth’s land would be habitable,” according to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. The ocean is such an integral part of Earth that without it, we can’t survive.
But overtime, our dependence on the ocean has become more and more of an exploitative relationship. Unable to remain content with the amount given to us, we have resorted to pillaging the ocean’s resources—something that we have taken for granted and is now disappearing right before our eyes—for the sake of money. One of the major problems that humans have created in the sea is overfishing, which causes fish populations to dwindle. The main reason for this overfishing is commercial fishing. Commercial fishing is the “activity of catching fish and other seafood for commercial profit, mostly from wild fisheries.” While at first this just seems like regular fishing, the method is brutal. Commercial fishing often casts long nets that catch all different types of marine life, not only the targeted one. According to the People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, over “650,000 marine mammals—dolphins, whales, and porpoises—are seriously injured or killed every year by the commercial fishing industry.”
Another big problem is fish bombing. Fish bombing, or cyanide fishing, is when fishermen dive into the water and throw bombs that will stun or kill a large school of fish. These bombs often lead to accidents as well as harm the environment. But for many coastal regions, fish bombing is a way to sustain a lifestyle, and inhabitants are forced to continue to do it. This is where conscientious people like Yusaf Bural and his brother Omar do their parts to save our ocean. They lead the BYC (Banggi Youth Club), which advocates for a cleaner Malaysia. They boycott plastic as well as try to convince their own parents to switch to a cleaner lifestyle. They visit the local reef and clean it of any algae so that it can continue to thrive.
The ocean is much more than a body of water. It’s life. A blue, glistening miracle. A miracle that continues to help the Earth survive despite our refusal to try and be satisfied with what we have. A miracle that housed the first-ever living species on Earth. At this point, we’ve gone from dependence to straight-up exploitation, taking more than what was given. According to Boris Worm, a marine ecologist, the ocean will be void of fish by 2048. The Great Barrier Reef, one of the most diverse ecosystems in the world, may be gone before that. Our seafood has become so important to us that we’re neglecting the millions of other species that rely on the ocean as much as, or more than, we do. And just how the roots of this problem started with humans, only we can fix it. Like Yusaf and Omar, it’s the time for our roles to change. Right now, the ocean needs us more than we need it. Instead of throwing bombs, massive nets, and trash into our ocean, it’s time to heal it. We’ve taken too much from the ocean. Now, it’s time to give back.
In 2016, I visited Korea during summer break. On the last day of vacation, my family and I went clam picking off the coast of Gangneung. The water was crystal clear, and the waves were rolling softly in small ripples. You only had to go three feet in before you could find a clam the size of your palm. To me, that scene was the most sublime in the world. But just to the right, I saw a pipe leading from the road to the ocean. When I picked up a clam, the top fell off and all I could see was a rotten inside. I picked up another one—black. Another one—stinky. And another one—dead. Twenty feet to the left was a coven of seashells thriving in the ocean. To the right was a wasteland. The ocean was our wasteland. It was at that moment that I realized how much the ocean was suffering. But as I picked up the basket of clams and headed for the car, I saw a group of old ladies with dishwashing gloves and a bag from the nearest CU mart, picking up the trash around the shore. There was only a dozen, and in my mind, they most likely wouldn’t have even made a dent in the trash in the world. But it’s a small step like this that allows us to continue to expand and eventually heal our ocean. And by healing the ocean, we are healing the clams, the reef, and the fish. The ocean is just like a human body. The fish are its lungs, taking in oxygen from the water. The orcas are like the white blood cells, a collective group that can destroy anything in its way. Without these “organs,” the ocean cannot survive. And as time goes on, we continue to destroy the ocean’s organs. We continue to intoxicate, destroy, and murder the ocean. But it isn’t too late—we can still repopulate the fish and regrow the reefs. It is our turn to act for the good. The good of reviving our ocean.
When I came back home from Korea, my teacher shared with me the horrifying tragedy of the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. A swirling vortex of trash, nets, and death the size of Texas floating in the ocean, just waiting for a clueless turtle to get a straw stuck up its nostril. A floating monster that has grown powerful and out of control. But we created that monster. There is no one to blame for killing reefs, no way to hide behind the fact that we throw bombs into the ocean. Our ocean matters. Not only to us, but the fish, the birds, the entire Earth. As humans, we’ve made plenty of mistakes. This mistake, the one where we might potentially wipe out the whole ocean, might be the largest one yet. I want to protect the being that allowed me to witness something so beautiful. The being that allows me to make countless memories. I want to fix my mistakes, no matter how large. I have worked to kill the very dolphins that fascinated me, the fish that mesmerized me, and the ocean that fed me. But it ends here, right now, where I start to give back.
Reflection
Reflection
I have a water story that I'm always eager to share. But a few minutes into my research showed how shallow my wholesome memories actually were. I had no idea that there were people bombing coral reefs with poison. I had no idea that commercial fishing wasn't actually "sustainable"; rather, it is very unsustainable. And as I continued to read more and more disturbing facts, I started to become angrier and angrier at my own self for being this ignorant about something that holds so much value to me. But when I learned that the ocean's doomsday was only a few decades ahead of us, that anger turned into desperation. Desperation to tell people around me, desperation to save the fish, and desperation to save the ocean. The ocean is dying, and humanity as a whole is killing it because we are too greedy to stop. And through my research, I realized that each voice can give back equally as much it has taken. One voice can start a movement and spark inspiration. All of us have destroyed the ocean, and it will take all of us to heal it. Starting from today, let us give back.