Fifteen-year-old Joseph Goldstein is dedicated to protecting the Boundary Waters. In March 2015, he shared a very personal story and plea for Boundary Waters protection. Today, he shares an update and a speech he made earlier this month on behalf of the Campaign to Save the Boundary Waters.
Nine years ago my parents took my brother and me to the Boundary Waters for the first time. For me, it was like coming home. I fell in love, and, as I was recently reminded, I sobbed when it was time to leave. Since then, the BWCA has become âmy placeâ â that space in the world that I want to be as much as I can, whenever I can.
Two years ago today, I was diagnosed with leukemia, which I guess makes today my âDiagnosaversaryâ or âCancerversary.â Something like that. Iâd tell you about the experience, but most people arenât terribly interested in the particulars of hair loss and vomit. The important detail is that Iâm still here, and Iâve made it my mission to help save the Boundary Waters!
Saving the BWCA started as my âWish.â I wanted to help, and using my Wish to protect this place we all love seemed the perfect ask. But, along the way Iâve learned that life doesnât work that way (so much wisdom between 13 and 15!). So, while I still wish to save our Wilderness, now Iâm working at it, too.
Thereâs an obvious metaphor here: the toxic runoff from sulfide-ore copper mining on the borders of the BWCA is a cancer that will kill our Wilderness. We cannot allow this to happen. I hope you will stand with me today in saying, âNot Here. Not Ever.â
Today, I have three little brothers who love the BWCA as much as I do, and so many friends who are working every day to protect this special place for all of us. But we need more; we need YOU, too.
Please add your voice to the Save the Boundary Waters campaign today. This Wilderness is in danger, and it deserves our protection.
Thank you,
Joseph

JOSEPH'S SPEECH
Two years ago this month I was diagnosed with whatâs officially known as âHigh Risk Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia.â That is doctor-talk for, âWow, bad luck, mate. This is gonna stink.â

So, my family deals with tough times in two ways: we body slam it with hard work and we mock it with sarcastic humor. My leukemia diagnosis was no different. My mom and I figure weâre gonna make a fortune someday with a very special line of âSarcastic Cancer Wear.â I probably should mention that my dad doesnât find our cancer jokes even the tiniest bit funny. But frankly, that just ups the hilarity for the rest of us.
The hard work, though? Thatâs the good stuff. Thatâs where you roll your sleeves up and dive into a problem, and that is exactly what the threat to the Boundary Waters prompted me to do.
To hear my mom tell the story, Tinkerbell came to visit me in the hospital and granted me a Wish, which I immediately and selflessly sacrificed in order to join the fight on behalf of the Boundary Waters. Moms are supposed to make us sound like super heroes, and my mom is the queen of spin.
In truth, a very nice woman from the Make A Wish foundation came and told me that, because of my âbad luck,â the foundation would grant me a Wish. She talked about the wishes theyâd granted for other kids my age: trips, ponies, swimming pools .... Pretty cool ideas when youâre strapped to a chair getting chemo. And Iâll tell you the truth â I wrestled hard with the idea of wishing for a trip to the North Pole. But, by the time we were driving home that afternoon I knew, I knew, what I wanted: to save the Boundary Waters, forever, against the threat mining on its borders. I figured it was the perfect ask. Because after all, whoâs gonna say no to a kid with cancer, right?

Turns out that in the non-Tinkerbell version of life, though, wish granting is a lot more complicated and takes a lot more work. But thatâs ok, âcause as I said, we body-slam hard work in our family.
Luckily, the ground game to Save the Boundary Waters was already underway, led by the people who brought us here tonight. All they needed me to do was to step up when and where I could. I started by writing to President Obama. And then to members of Congress, the Senate, and any other government official who might be willing to help. I went to DC with my friends Jason and Ellie to lobby on behalf of the BWCA, and I took every chance I could to head to Ely, grab a paddle or a dogsled and head into the Wilderness to recharge with my family and the friends who are here tonight.

As funny as we try to make it though, at the end of the day living with cancer is no joke. Itâs hard in ways that are difficult to articulate, and it takes things from you that you have to fight very, very hard to reclaim. (Except my hair â my hair came back just fine). Thereâs joy in the fight, though, especially when youâre scrapping for what is right, what is just, what is fair, and what is good: The fight to save the Wilderness is all of those things.
Wilderness brings out the best in us, and itâs a powerful and demanding teacher. We have to learn to persevere, to earn our comforts, to appreciate silence, and to find a decent fishing spot if we want to eat. And believe me, nothing comes between a Goldstein and their fish-fry. But if we are going to save the Boundary Waters, we have to go to the mattresses, and we have to go NOW because, unlike my hair, once itâs gone, it will be gone for good. There will be NO recovery from the poison that will leach from the mines planned along the borders of our perfect waters.
My parents say it's the hubris of youth to believe that life is binary (obviously, they also like to use words I have to Google). My mom even went so far as to once make me write a position paper in favor of mining, an effort on her part to teach me dissect an argument from the other side, or something about shades of gray ... it was all very mom-ish and it obviously didn't stick.
But I think that the greatest thing about youth is that you GET to be as hubris-y as you want. You get to say things like âeither you're a defender or youâre a destroyer.â There is no room for gray on this issue. The science, the community, my friends and my gut all tell me the same thing: we are called to be fierce defenders of this sacred place.

In my letter to President Obama, I said, âWilderness is important for its own sake.â I believed this when I wrote it two years ago, and I believe it even more today. Dave and Amy brought incredible attention to this cause, but it is up to all of us to safeguard the Boundary Waters because it cannot defend itself. My three little brothers are counting on you and me to do this. Everyone who has ever fallen in love with, found peace and healing in, or made their living on these waters is counting on you and me to do this. People who havenât yet set foot here, who have never experienced the joy of a walleye pulled from the lake, or listened to the call of a loon at sunset, or experienced the peace of a paddle steadily dipping into these waters - they are counting on you and me, too, and they donât even know it. We canât let them down. We canât let the Wilderness down.