the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) called on countries to close their domestic ivory trades. Within a month, all 180-plus member nations of the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species (CITES) not only agreed that legal ivory markets must be closed but they shut down a measure that would have allowed one-time-only sales of ivory stockpiles. Within three months, the Chinese government vowed to end the ivory trade in its country by 2017.
Unlike people who had an epiphany with a single animal that caused them to take action, Carole says her path has been consistent and steady. Her connection with animals most often starts when she meets the human beings who are working to protect them. Naledi, now weighing in at over two thousand pounds and described by her caretakers as being rambunctious with a loving personality, remains with her herd in Botswana. Carole has been able to share her connection with the elephant by producing the documentary Naledi: A Baby Elephant’s Tale. In just a few short years, she has also helped deliver many more award-winning projects: Racing Extinction, The Ivory Game, Ocean Warriors, Mind of a Giant, Unseen Enemy, Body Team 12, We the Economy, We the Voters, #ISurvivedEbola, and STEP.
As a strategic thinker with the privilege of working for a philanthropist and visionary, Carole brings scientists, researchers, conservationists, NGOs, government agencies, and protectors together. The result has been documentaries, series, and social media and impact campaigns that excite, educate, and motivate people to seek global change for all animals — including humans.
Have you ever rescued a ladybug?
I’ve rescued ladybugs when they were trapped inside by opening the window and letting them out. Sometimes, when they’ve been crawling on the wall, I’ve used my hand as a transport, letting them crawl on it and delivering them to a railing outside. I’ve always been told ladybugs are good luck. I believe it!
Name three things that make you happy.
My family, including my parents and my kids, Nicholas and Grace. My parents taught me the importance of getting back up after you fall down, which was particularly important since I was a gymnast growing up! My kids have taught me about joy and looking at the world through a lens of wonder and curiosity. Walking the beach rejuvenates me, no matter where I am. I can hear myself think after a good walk on the beach. And lying on the ground with our two dogs, Roo and Louie, just sticking my face in their fur and massaging behind their ears.
What one book, documentary, or speech has had a profound effect on you?
There’s no single book that has had a profound effect on me, but I do remember reading Reflections of Eden by Biruté Galdikas and being moved by her story. Similarly, Terry Grosz’s book Wildlife Wars: The Life and Times of a Fish and Game Warden was powerful.
Being knee-deep in the documentary world, it’s hard for me to think of just one doc. A good documentary can define problems and drive awareness of an issue. A great documentary reaches you not just in your head but in your heart. It inspires action and creates impact. My job is to create tools and stories that reach audiences from students to influencers and policymakers.
Regarding your food choices, how do you describe yourself?
A conscious eater focused on sustainability. While I was working with Louie Psihoyos, he radically changed my view on seafood and of course red meat. While I haven’t fully given up either, I have drastically reduced my consumption and consider which brands and products I purchase to ensure my choices are not degrading the environment.
If you had one wish that was guaranteed to come true, what would it be?
For a global wish: world peace. For a selfish wish: that Nicholas and Grace will live full and healthy lives, be agents of change, enjoy every high and low of their lives, and that they’ll pass along both a love of exploring this amazing planet and the message of the planet itself to their heirs.
What advice do you have for people who say that they want to help animals in need but are too debilitated by what they witness?
You don’t need to be in the field to help animals. There is an endless list of ways people can help. My contribution is using storytelling to drive awareness and behavior change. Others contribute with technology or by helping with policy change. The simple act of sharing is so powerful and creates a ripple effect. Every day we make choices with what we eat, purchase, and consume and with how we live. If everyone was more conscious and purposeful with their choices, they would help the environment — and therefore animals. And we can all help support those who are dedicating their lives to animals by sharing their stories or financially supporting their work.
When people get behind saving another species and they become stewards for the environment, it creates a powerful sense of community.
There are angels in our waters. They are small and difficult to see, but their divine grace has kept our oceans healthy for an eternity — until now. For one dedicated filmmaker and conservationist, these often-unacknowledged little miracles put the delicate balance of life into perspective and have given her an unfaltering desire to ensure their survival.
I met Susan Rockefeller (then Susan Cohn) while sailing in the Tyrrhenian Sea — off the northeast coast of Sardinia, Italy — in the summer of 2001. The occasion was a thirty-five-day cruise to celebrate the joint birthdays of our mutual friends Dun Gifford and David Rockefeller Jr. (then Sue’s fiancé and now her husband). Within hours of meeting, Sue and I had donned goggles and were underwater, exploring. When we emerged, treading water, we talked about all the trash we’d seen — plastic, toilet paper, and bottles — and how few fish.
We soon discovered our common interests. Sue was a documentary filmmaker and writer, and I was an environmental television producer and journalist. We were sailing on separate boats, but at sunset, we came together to discuss marine life and the politics of saving the seas. We also took time to sing, dance, and laugh — a lot — which cemented our enduring friendship.
Sue was raised in Larchmont, New York. Her earliest memories are of the beach, where she remembers watching seabirds run up and down the shore, in sync with the ebb and flow of the waves. She’s always been sensitive to nature, and she spent most of her childhood outside, connecting with frogs and toads. Inside, she kept gerbils, hamsters, and guinea pigs, which she believes was testament to her parents’ tolerance for childhood curiosity. Her parents were kind to all animals and people and made a point to teach her about empathy in a simple but profound way: not only through their words but through their actions.
Following graduation from college with a degree in environmental studies, Sue moved to Alaska to live with Inuit and Iñupiat communities in Shungnak on the Kobuk River, north of the Arctic Circle, as well as in Selawik and Kotzebue. In these villages of hunter-gatherers, she introduced people to new vegetable-growing techniques that would help lengthen their short growing season. Those techniques enabled them to supplement their meat-based diets with vegetables throughout the year. The three years Sue spent with Inuit communities proved life-changing for her. She saw directly how keenly people are connected to other animals, plants, the ocean, and the climate, and how we rely on these connections for our existence.
One of the many things I admire about Sue is her thirst for knowledge. She’s a voracious reader, always interested in who is making the world a better place and how they’re doing it, what they think, and what they know. Her insatiable curiosity means her free-thinking
