By Chris Avena
For Dr. Robbie Kroger, hunting isn’t a hobby—it’s heritage. It’s legacy. It’s life.
Born in Johannesburg, South Africa, Robbie comes from a lineage steeped in adventure, grit, and the primal connection between man and wild. His grandfather hunted through the frontiers of northern China, Russia, Germany, and Mozambique in an era when the world was wilder and the act of hunting was part of daily survival. Robbie’s father followed in those footsteps, taking his first Cape buffalo at just sixteen. Their home in South Africa was filled with stories, skulls, and taxidermy that whispered tales of the past. But strangely enough, Robbie didn’t grow up a hunter.
“I was raised in an urban society,” he says. “Growing up in Johannesburg was like growing up in downtown L.A.—you’re surrounded by concrete, not kudu.” With Mozambique torn by civil war, the landscapes of his father’s youth were inaccessible. The traditions of the past were shelved—until fate brought Robbie to Mississippi for a Ph.D. in wetland ecology.
That’s where hunting found him again.
A towering, bearded Southern friend offered a simple invitation: “You want to go hunting?” Robbie said yes—and the floodgates opened. From that moment on, he immersed himself in the world of North American hunting, but as a scientist and a storyteller, he couldn’t shake the bigger question: Why do we hunt?
That question birthed Blood Origins, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit dedicated to reshaping the global narrative around hunting. Through compelling storytelling, documentary-style interviews, scientific data, and raw authenticity, Robbie Kroger’s team digs deep into the “why” behind the lifestyle—because the surface-level images don’t cut it anymore.
One of the hardest ideas to communicate, Robbie says, is the emotional paradox of hunting. “The toughest thing to explain to a non-hunter is seeing us kill something and think we’re enjoying it—that it’s fun. And yes, it is fun. The adventure is fun. The community, the terrain, the pursuit—it’s all deeply enjoyable. But that tiny moment of the kill? That’s where things get complex.”
He continues: “We don’t call ourselves killers—we call ourselves hunters. That’s because hunting involves effort, failure, patience, and reverence. Killing is only the final stroke of a long, hard-earned journey. Sometimes, the kill comes after years of planning, preparation, and sacrifice. And when it’s over, there’s often sadness. You’ve reached the summit—but it’s also the end. That animal represents the culmination of something meaningful, and we feel that.”
Some express that emotion with quiet reflection. Others erupt with cheers and fist pumps. But as Robbie points out, the celebration isn’t for the kill—it’s for the accomplishment, the journey, and the respect earned along the way.
In his words: “You're not whooping and hollering because you enjoy the death of the animal. You're doing it because of the two years it took you to get to that point. The joy is in the story, not the shot.”
For Robbie, one of the greatest challenges in modern hunting is perception. In the digital age, every photo, caption, and video is consumed not just by hunters—but by a global audience, many of whom don’t understand the context. What used to be a photo mailed to a hunting buddy is now a post exposed to critics, activists, and the uninformed.
“The biggest challenge in bridging the gap between hunters and non-hunters is education,” Robbie explains. “With education comes knowledge. But society today struggles with open-mindedness. People don’t want to accept anything that doesn’t fit their worldview.”
But change is happening. Robbie sees more hunters speaking with empathy and intelligence—more centralists willing to engage in respectful, thoughtful dialogue. “People are starting to say, ‘I still don’t like hunting, but I understand it now.’ And that’s a huge step forward.”
He’s also calling on hunters to lead with intention. “If there’s one thing I could do to save hunting, it would be to get hunters to think more. Think about the pictures you post, the language you use, the way you react when someone calls you a killer. Think about the audience. Because how we represent ourselves today shapes whether this lifestyle survives tomorrow.”
Instead of flooding social media with grip-and-grin photos, Robbie challenges hunters to share the full story. Show the butcher. Show the skinner. Show the meat being donated to schools. Show the economic impact on rural communities. “Those are powerful truths,” he says. “Why aren’t we telling that story?”
Blood Origins isn’t about promoting personalities. It’s about amplifying purpose. Through interviews with everyday hunters, conservationists, scientists, and indigenous leaders, Robbie’s team gives voice to the stories the mainstream ignores. Whether it’s spotlighting how hunting funds anti-poaching efforts in Africa or exploring the emotional healing veterans find in the woods, every piece of content is a brick in the foundation of hunting’s future.
At the heart of it all is a belief in honest storytelling. “You may not agree with what we do, but you can’t deny the integrity behind it,” Robbie says. “And once you see the heart behind the hunter, it’s hard to vilify us.”
As a father, Robbie is intentional about passing this ethic of respect, humility, and education to his sons. “I want them to understand why we hunt—not just how. I want them to feel the responsibility that comes with taking a life. To appreciate the conservation, the connection to the land, the gratitude. If they grow up to be hunters, they’ll carry that weight with pride.”
Robbie Kroger isn’t just defending hunting. He’s redefining it—for the next generation, for the skeptics, and for the people who believe that the truth, when told well, can still cut through the noise.
“Hunting is not just about taking a life—it’s about understanding our place in the natural world and honoring it with every step we take.” — Robbie Kroger, Blood Origins
Learn more or support the mission at www.bloodorigins.org.