In Action #6 Keeping Despair at Bay: Part Two
Helen joins the Extinction Rebellion mural at Clarion Alley in San Francisco, July 2021
Our house is burning.
In fact, the fire followed me here. If your skies were hazy this past week, it followed you too. (It’s everywhere) As I post this from the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia, the Bootleg wildfire in southern Oregon 3000 miles away has turned the skies here smoky white, obscuring the glorious mountains of my childhood to near invisibility, and bringing with it the deadly, invisible particles of microscopic pollution (PM2.5). No matter where you live in the U.S. you are breathing those particles into your lungs right now.
Meanwhile, the Amazon forest is now emitting more CO2 than it absorbs. This, the once so-called “lungs of the earth”! And a top scientist at Glacier National Park reports that “the flowers are curling up...the bees and humming birds that depend on them are in trouble...bird populations are just baked...fish are emaciated, starved to death...”
Our house is on fire.
When a house is on fire,
there is no time to despair.
When a house is on fire, there is no time to despair. You stop whatever you are doing, grab a fire extinguisher, rush to the fire and help put it out. You prioritize those who are the most vulnerable: the elderly, babies, children. You don’t sit around and endlessly debate about what tactic may or may not work, about the fact that no matter what we do we are all doomed to go up in flames, or spend time obsessing about how truly frightening a fire is. There is no time to despair. Every moment counts. There’s no time to lose.
We cannot afford overwhelm, denial, or despair. In my last blog I encouraged folks to think of the “boldest step you can take right now to fight the climate crisis.” I’d like to share two responses from two individuals who are “dropping everything” and acting boldly:From one friend who is, by the way, in her mid 60’s:
I am biking across America, from the Pacific to the Atlantic, talking with ordinary people along the way about the extraordinary and alarming situation we’re in.
From another who recently traveled to MN to support the Indigenous actions to shut down the Line 3 oil Pipeline:
I’m using my white, male privilege to change the system that enabled it, specifically by risking arrest to disrupt new fossil fuel supply that threatens all life on earth.
Perhaps you’re thinking: Well, I’m not biking across the country and I’m not traveling to Minnesota. But everyone can take bold action.
Indigenous men and women in Line 3 oil pipeline resistance, northern Minnesota, July 2021
Right now we are being asked by hundreds of Indigenous women to support their fight against the construction of the hugest pipeline on this continent, the Line 3 Pipeline in northern Minnesota. Line 3 is slated to transport a million gallons of the dirtiest oil, tar sands, every day, a clear violation of Indigenous sovereignty and an ecological and health disaster, not only for those who live there, but for all of us, as this major pipeline would only increase the carbon dioxide emissions which are slowly killing all of us.
The climate crisis is not “over there” anymore: just like those deadly particulates drifting our way from a fire 3000 miles away, these pipelines 1000 miles away directly impact our own health and future.
I’ve decided to take a detour in my summer plans and travel to Minnesota in August to join the resistance to building the Line 3 pipeline in whatever way I can. When I watch the unbelievable footage of a fire tornado(!) in Oregon, I feel such a rush of rage, grief, and incredulity at the fossil fuel industry and my/our complicity with it that I know I must act - or go mad. I also recognize it’s time to step up and support Indigenous folks who are asking for our presence.
Below is a list of actions that the folks fighting Line 3 have suggested to us. They are on the ground fighting for their land, their livelihood, their water, and their rights. They know what’s needed. We - especially white, financially better off (“privileged”) - would do well to follow their lead.
7 Ways to Act Now
PETITION Biden to Stop the Line 3 pipeline: He stopped the Keystone Pipeline; he can stop Line 3.
DONATE to Honor the Earth, Indigenous Led advocacy, education, and litigation to Stop Line 3.
SPREAD the word: write letters to the editor, share with your circle of influence.
ORGANIZE: host a fundraiser, paint a banner, scout the pipeline route: folks will give you everything you need to get started. You don’t have to figure it out on your own.
DIVEST YOURSELF: It’s taken me a year to break up with Chase (think United Mileage Plus credit card) and Bank of America (checking account) and – true confessions – it’s been a little rocky finding the right credit union for our banking needs, BUT we’ve found a great home for a credit card with Green America and I feel frankly relieved not to be feeding the ones who are funding the fossil fuel crisis we find ourselves in. . Here’s a letter I recently wrote to Jamie Dimon, CEO of JP Morgan Chase. This is not a lonely task, but a national campaign led by Bill McKibben and others. Join or start a Divest group with friends and meet monthly – it helps to have advice and support from others.
DEMAND banks divest: Tell the CEO’s of the big banks that you want them to DIVEST. NOW. The oil pipelines and fossil fuel industry cannot continue without funding from the banks. As we sing on the streets: “...if we stop the flow of money than we stop the flow of oil.” Here’s more info.
SHOW UP at the front lines: Consider postponing your vacation this summer or this fall and travel to MN to witness, resist, or otherwise volunteer to support the Line 3 protesters in any way you feel comfortable. (No, you do not need to get arrested. You can wash dishes, post on social media, or support others taking more risky actions).
We live in truly momentous times, folks. Lots of people for millennia have undoubtedly felt the same about the time THEY lived in. But the global, interconnected nature of the crisis we are in is, I venture to say, unlike any other.
Generations from now, those whose lives are unimaginably altered by the ecological chaos we have unleashed will ask: “What were you doing when there was still time to turn things around?”
I’ll write it again: Our house is on fire. It is a time for action, not panic. Not despair. Not overwhelm. As I say in my performance work, Dispatches from the Great Burning, “We walk slowly because time is running out and we must act...so...quickly."
See you in action,
Helen