Dear Conservationist, I’m sorry you can’t afford to work your dream job.

Dear conservationist,

Have you ever needed to increase your income, only to find that you need to head indoors to find a job that pays high enough to sustain your cost of living? I know I have. I’m not entirely sure who made the decision, but HR often sees fieldwork as rookie-style labour, whereas sitting at a desk is considered highly beneficial professional behaviour.

I will never forget my first day behind a desk. I thought that I was participating in a scam or that I was cheating the system or something. For most of my life, I earned a scant amount of money from working physically tiring days full to the brim with tasks. That first day behind a desk, having the whole day to read procedures, respond to emails, and take a leisurely lunch while sitting and chatting with my new colleagues- it didn’t feel like work. If I am being honest with you, even though I have spent 4 years behind a desk now, to this day, I still often feel ashamed for not working hard enough. Partly, I don’t feel worthy of my income compared to the people who work much harder for less, and partly, when the world’s problems seem so urgent- I find it so challenging to be leisurely. Even to this day, I am told by employers that I am too hard on myself and too fast-paced at work, always feeling as if there is more I could or should be doing.

I am not sure who decided to pay field workers less, as many of them are highly specialised and essential to their organisations. In lockdown, when I found out that nurseries were shutting up shop because the volunteer seed collectors couldn’t prioritise seed collection anymore, I was flabbergasted that these highly skilled individuals weren’t being paid a cent. Moreso, most passionate environmentalists get into the industry to work in the natural environments that they love so much. In all the stories on Lonely Conservationists, no single blog starts with a childhood story reminiscing of a dream to answer emails or sit in meetings.

In a previous role, my favourite type of work was getting out to the parklands to help the park ranger. His job was to manage all of the parks in the municipality and he was constantly busy. I couldn’t believe it when I found out that he was on a lower band of pay than I was. The park ranger’s job was way more important than mine. It was front-facing, everyone knew and loved this person, and he formed lasting community relationships. He was responsible for maintenance, working with community groups, overseeing outdoor projects, running events, responding to public requests- as well as contributing to policy documents and advising for other projects. To me, he was invaluable in passion, skill and knowledge. Together, we created events to involve local children and their families in nature education that helped to raise community awareness of environmental phenomena within the region. Individuals who have never explored or understood the natural world were now equipped to look in local nest boxes, come together to water seedlings, and witness an abundance of native wildlife. This hands-on approach enabled heightened community respect and responsible engagement with nature which was important for the preservation of these parklands and the wildlife that lived within it. The organisation ideally needed way more than just one park ranger to manage the area that he was responsible for- however, funding never ended up in his department and bringing on new staff was never prioritised.

In Australia especially, there seems to be a trajectory that individuals get into a field-based type of work because that’s where their interest or speciality lies- but to climb the ladder and earn more money, they need to transition from a team member role to a management position where they are expected to take on more administrative tasks. There are rarely any opportunities for a high-level field position that pays as much as a desk-based management role. With the rising cost of living and capped opportunities for learning and growth, it is often unsustainable for individuals to work long-term in the same field-based job.

I have only heard of one instance of a workplace making promotion arrangements for a field employee, and I don’t know the person or unfortunately, even remember the organisation. Legend has it that a man had been working as a park ranger for years, and refused all offers of promotion that would increase his pay, but would take him out of the field. As a result, the organisation recognised his specialist field skills and designed a unique promotion system just for him so he could be recognised for his efforts, rewarded for his work, and stay in the job he loved. This is a beautiful story and I hope the legend is true.

Ecologists may be the exception to this rule, as there are lead ecologists who earn livable wages. In these roles, there may be a nice split of desk work and field work, depending on the season. I must give ecologists and other similar consultation roles a special shout out though, because many of these jobs involve beautiful landscapes and incredible wildlife that may be destroyed to accommodate for urban infrastructure and development sites. While watching a presentation on microbats, my ecologist friend shared with me that she had seen the focal species of adorable little bat, however, only because she was assessing their habitat that was earmarked for removal. Sometimes the emotional barriers to working these roles are as poignant as the financial barriers of others.

Fieldwork is important. For tens of thousands of years, First Nations peoples globally have been managing Country. Unmanaged Country is sick Country, as they say and if we want to keep our natural world healthy, we need people out there on the ground:

• keeping our waterways clean
• planting and watering trees & other vegetation restoration projects
• monitoring wildlife populations and habitats & other environmental research
• patrolling fragile landscapes
• removing weeds invasive species
• collecting seeds
• installing signs, paths and amenities
• using permaculture and regenerative agricultural methods
• caring for sick and injured wildlife & wildlife rehabilitation
• managing community gardens and groups
• facilitating citizen science, workshops, and outdoor education
• leading ethical eco-tourism ventures
• site visits for conservation covenanted land and other protected sites
• working with conservation dogs, ferrets and other conservationist animals
• and doing all of the other many jobs that I have missed! (I know, we could be here all day listing)

By undervaluing these skills with low or no wages, or by restricting opportunities for same-job promotion, we are reinforcing the idea that these are not valuable roles to play in our community. Thinking about this makes me sad, because looking at this list, it would be devastating if the high costs of living drove many of these roles to obsolescence.

When people ask me what my dream job is, I feel a sense of grief washing over me. When I was younger, I had a dream of working in the field. I am fortunate enough to have lived this dream, but since living my dreams out in multiple field jobs, I have since had to pass them up to transition into a career that is financially sustainable for me- especially as I am the sole income earner for my household. Despite there being so much exploitation, toxicity, and so many near-death experiences in my early career, you best believe I look back fondly on those times when I was teaching, learning, being, and doing in remote tropical ecosystems. I will never forget how visceral my happiness was in the moments where I was doing what I loved, or moments where I overcame adversity in ways that have shaped who I am today.

Maybe, at the end of my life, I will have a chance to go back to nature education or even research positions- but it is weird to think that my retirement plan features returning to a job that I once had at the start of my career. Usually dream jobs are something you need to work towards, not look back lovingly at. This is not to say that I am not good at, or don’t enjoy the work I do now- but there are certain jobs that we strive for as conservationists that set our hearts on fire, if you know, you know.

Looking at the state of the world now, we need more people than ever out in nature, off of screens, and connecting with each other in real life. It is devastating to think that being outdoors is a lifestyle that we so desperately need but unfortunately, that many of us can’t afford to have. Hopefully, as we think about green and circular economies, we also start to think about valuing outdoor skills for what they are worth- this is just one of the many things we could do to start to make the world a better place. Though I am sitting here, indoors, writing this blog- it is my hope that Lonely Conservationists and Conservationist Care can one day help to influence changes for field workers- maybe then I won’t have to wait until retirement to return.

As the theme of this blog is about caring for ourselves as conservationists, I can’t leave you without offering some words of care. If you find yourself stuck inside more than you thought you might be in your career, that’s okay- and normal. You aren’t any less of an environmentalist by being out of the environment. I try to care for myself in these roles by spending my lunchbreak walking around my neighbourhood, getting some fresh air and noticing the changing seasons. Sometimes I will even take my laptop to a park and work from a picnic table if the weather is particularly nice. On weekends, I make time to visit field sites with my nerdy ecologist friends and let them teach me new orchid species in exchange for unsolicited bird facts. I also love booking weekend trips in nearby towns to explore new pockets of nature. Even though I don’t work outside anymore- I can still very much play outside and play is often a forgotten, but very important form of self-care.

Okay- time to get outside.

Jessie