By Anu Rai
I joined a group of Bote Indigenous community members early in the morning. As we approached a dried-up riverbed, I watched them form a circle on the riverbank, arranging tree branches and bringing out traditional fishing tools. They were preparing for a ceremony to pray for water; an act of reverence deeply rooted in their culture. For this community, caring for natural resources was a ritual that connected them to nature and each other.
Buffer zone community forests in Nepal are areas adjacent to protected parks, managed and utilized by local communities. These institutions are designed to support both conservation and local well-being (Bergami et al., 2000). I was there to study how Indigenous women participate in the governance of these forest institutions.
Later that morning, as we walked back from the ritual, I conducted a walking interview with a local Indigenous woman. When I asked about her role in forest decision-making, she said, “My husband goes to the meetings. He tells me the decisions after they’re made.” I walked alongside her in the scorching midday sun, letting her words sink in. This is what Bina Agarwal (2001) terms passive participation – being informed but having no real influence.
That interview took me back home. On Saturday mornings back in Town Nepal, I used to watch my mother balancing it all; caring for us, managing the household, and staying involved in forest meetings and programs. As an Indigenous woman myself, taking care of our forest was never just about obligation. It is a part of who we are.
Years later, in the buffer zone forest of Chitwan National Park, Nepal, I found a group of women who felt the same. Their connection to the forest mirrored what I had seen in my mother, a commitment rooted in identity, and culture.
A Bright Seed
Continuing the interview with the Bote Indigenous woman, she beamed with pride as she introduced the forest; not the forest, but “our” forest. “We planted those trees,” she said, scrolling through photos on her phone. “That’s us cleaning the forest.” For her, forest care wasn’t a duty. It was part of her identity.
Her statement brought back a moment from Dr. Sorice’s socio-ecological system class at Virginia Tech, where I learned about Elena Bennett’s idea of “bright spots”: seeds of a good Anthropocene (Bennett et al., 2016). Instead of focusing solely on crisis narratives or abstract utopias, this framework urges us to learn from initiatives already fostering transformation. These “seeds” are bottom-up, values-based, and socially grounded. They show how human-environment relationships can evolve meaningfully through transformative interventions. So often, conservation literature focuses on what’s not working. In contrast, I aim to contribute to what Bennett calls the “good seeds” as examples of what is quietly, powerfully, and already working but often missed.
A group of Indigenous women noticed the forest near their village degrading. They feared their grandchildren might grow up never knowing its shade, stories, or resources. So they decided to act about five years ago.
Their path wasn’t easy. Socially, their families questioned them: “Why are you wasting time in that forest? What about your children, your house, your in-laws?” Their dedication was mocked. Many had to argue just to leave the house.
Ecologically, the forest was demanding. They encountered wild birds, snakes, and the unpredictable. But that didn’t stop them. Before being registered as a community forest, for 2-3 years, they organized patrols, divided tasks, and planted trees. Today, this forest is officially managed and led by Indigenous women. It stands as the epitome of women-led community forestry.
Their story reflects an affective commitment. This is a psychological form of attachment where emotional connection drives sustained involvement (Bergami et al., 2000). These women are not participating out of obligation. They are investing in something that is an extension of themselves.
This long-term engagement can stem from a sense of belonging, identity, and collective care; dimensions that belong to the social and psychological domain, yet are often ignored in conservation policy (Mosimane et al., 2012; DeCaro & Stokes, 2008). We must examine them more deeply if we seek the lasting commitment of key actors of community-led institutions in natural resources governance.
Seeds That Matter
Creating just and sustainable futures means not only identifying what’s wrong but understanding what motivates people to lead. Particularly, identifying and understanding those intrinsic motivations that sustain us in our actions and commitments.
A major difficulty in such community-based conservation is conservationists’ insufficient understanding of the social-psychological elements that influence community engagement and program outcomes. This knowledge gap frequently hampers efforts to enhance and sustain participatory techniques (Bryant 1991; Jacobson & McDuff 1998; Brockington et al. 2006). When we ignore factors like sense of belonging, collective identity, and emotional connection, we miss key leverage points. Social sciences offer tools to understand these dynamics. Community-based conservation stories like this one show how deeply personal commitment can lead to transformative, collective outcomes.
Note: If this sparked your curiosity, please read more on this paper.
***
About the author:
I’m an Indigenous woman from Nepal and a PhD student in Forestry at Virginia Tech. My study focuses on the socio-psychological aspects of community-based conservation. I investigate how a sense of belonging shapes collective action in co-management systems.
My connection to this work began long before I entered academia. I grew up near the community’s forest, witnessing community particularly Indigenous women care for and lead natural resource governance in ways that were sometimes overlooked. These early experiences continue to affect my perspective on conservation: it is relational, emotional, and identity-based.
Through my research, writing, and storytelling, I seek to bridge academic knowledge with community wisdom, and to help reimagine conservation as a space where diverse perspectives inform place-based solutions for natural resource management.
***
References:
Agarwal, B. (2001). Participatory exclusions, community forestry, and gender: An analysis for South Asia and a conceptual framework. World Development, 29(10), 1623–1648.
Bennett, E. M., Solan, M., Biggs, R., McPhearson, T., Norström, A. V., Olsson, P., … & Xu, J. (2016). Bright spots: seeds of a good Anthropocene. Frontiers in Ecology and the Environment, 14(8), 441-448.
Bergami, M., & Bagozzi, R. P. (2000). Self‐categorization, affective commitment and group self‐esteem as distinct aspects of social identity in the organization. British journal of social psychology, 39(4), 555-577.
Bhusal, N. P. (2012). Buffer zone management system in protected areas of Nepal. The Third Pole: Journal of Geography Education, 34-44.
DeCaro, D., & Stokes, M. (2008). Social‐psychological principles of community‐based conservation and conservancy motivation: attaining goals within an autonomy‐supportive environment. Conservation biology, 22(6), 1443-1451.
Mosimane, A. W., Breen, C., & Nkhata, B. A. (2012). Collective identity and resilience in the management of common pool resources. International Journal of the Commons, 6(2).
Bryant, R. L. (1991). Putting politics first: the political ecology of sustainable development. Global ecology and biogeography letters, 164-166.
Brockington, D., Igoe, J., & Schmidt-Soltau, K. (2006). Conservation, human rights, and poverty reduction. Conservation Biology, 20(1), 250-252.
Jacobson, S. K., & McDuff, M. D. (1998). Training idiot savants: the lack of human dimensions in conservation biology. Conservation Biology, 12(2), 263-267.
Additional material
Watch the full YouTube video about bright spots by Ecosystem ecologist Elena Bennett
