Steve Carbol, American Birding Association

Formerly an Ohioan and a young birder, I'm now an old birder who hopes to support and encourage young birders across the country and the world.

I formally began birding on August 5, 1988 at the age of 13. I went to a nature camp in northern West Virginia and absolutely loathed it, at first. The older kids were mean, the showers cold and the latrines were the foulest-smelling things I had ever encountered. I went on an afternoon bird walk on the final hot, humid day of camp, completely ready to go home. We saw no birds. The random chips and chirps coming from the bushes were meaningless to me. We emerged from the woods into a meadow where I happened to notice a small bird making a racket in the top of a nearby Pin Oak. I made an unenthusiastic mention of it to the rest of the group and someone pushed a pair of binoculars into my hands. Reluctantly focusing on the bird, it filled my field of view with an explosion of color. Flashing in the sun, black to navy to electric blue to deep royal indigo, the little bird passionately sang his heart out for all he was worth. Another someone shoved a field guide into my hands and I finally keyed the bird out and was able to put the name Indigo Bunting to the bird. The name was as important as the bird. All skepticism, all sarcasm was gone. I was stunned. I was impressed. I was hooked. I’ve been birding ever since. He was my genesis bird, and what a tremendous genesis bird! Almost twenty years later, every August 5th, I still celebrate him with my own personal holiday; Indigo Day.

A few months after I began birding, I excitedly tagged along on a Christmas Bird Count that I had seen advertised in the Columbus area. At 13, I was the youngest person on the count by a good forty years and was eager to learn from the other more seasoned birders. Though this wasn’t that long ago, keep in mind that young birders were not so numerous nor well-supported as they are today. With my sharp young eyes, ears and enthusiasm, I started pointing out birds to the group; “I hear a flicker! Look! A Bonaparte’s Gull out over the water! Ooh! Brown Creeper calling up the trail! Cool!”

Unfortunately, the count leader was a sour old curmudgeon used to being the group’s guru and didn’t appreciate a young whippersnapper stealing any of the spotlight away from his birding prowess. The man quickly squashed each of my sightings; “Starlings expertly mimic flickers all the time. A winter flicker, here? Not likely! All I see are Ring-billed Gulls! I’ve not seen a Brown Creeper yet this winter. The kid doesn't know a creeper from a kinglet!”

This went on all day. When the Northern Flicker, Bonaparte’s Gull, Brown Creeper and several other birds put in great, very obvious appearances for all to see, the man made no apologies for his rude behavior and pompously expounded upon the finer field marks to identify these species. Two ladies on the count were kind to me and we saw some great birds that day, but these positives were overshadowed by the leader’s inconsiderate rudeness, and I was so soured by the event that I was in my mid-twenties before I joined a public bird walk again.

Having little regular guidance as a young birder, for better or worse, I learned many lessons on my own. That one incident had a profound impact upon me as a birder and a person and I have always gone out of my way to be the polar opposite of that trip leader. I always make time for young birders, value their input, skills and experience and try to offer support and guidance whenever possible. Joining ABA as its Education Manager is just another extension of this mindset and a tremendous platform to assist young birders. I wish that the OYBC had existed when I was a kid and hope to do whatever I can to support its efforts! Here's to the OYBC! Good birding!