<\/p>\n
Growing up, I always intently listened to my grandpa\u2019s stories of adventures on the shores of Lake Ontario. His vivid descriptions of lush greenery, crystal waters and abundant marine life were distinct from the concrete jungles and expansive suburbs that populate other sections of America. This contrast shaped my view of the Great Lakes region as a symbol of American conservation efforts.\u00a0<\/p>\n
After all, the Great Lakes were the stomping ground of conservationist<\/a> and former Sen. Gaylord Nelson, D-Mich, \u2014 the founder of Earth Day \u2014 and renowned nature poet Robert Frost<\/a>. I came to Michigan expecting this stewardship to be an ongoing tradition, in spite of global pollution<\/a> and environmental neglect<\/a>. It was hard not to be disappointed when I instead discovered our heavily polluted Great Lakes were in dire need of help from government leaders.<\/p>\n Verbally, officials from Great Lakes-adjacent governments take firm stances against the degradation of natural resources. In 2024, Illinois Gov. JB Pritzker stressed<\/a> the need to manage our fresh water like it was as precious as diamonds. In 2022, Michigan Gov. Gretchen Whitmer released the ambitious \u201cMI Healthy Climate Plan,\u201d which made bold promises<\/a> to protect clean air and water.<\/p>\n Yet, in action, conserving the Great Lakes and their natural resources has been ultimately unsuccessful. For decades, the Great Lakes have faced a crisis of rampant phosphorus runoff<\/a> from agricultural fertilizers<\/a>. This pollution degrades<\/a> water quality and produces<\/a> toxic algal blooms, which deplete oxygen levels<\/a>, threaten marine life and contaminate<\/a> drinking water. The algal blooms also produce toxins<\/a> that cause rashes, gastrointestinal issues and damage to the kidneys, liver and nervous system.<\/p>\n