We ate the right foods, studied birthing
options, became vigilant about safety and consulted Those-Who-Went-Before on everything from poop
viscosity to piercings. Now my oldest is studying for the ACT.
My middle practices her debate skills ALL. THE. TIME. and my youngest transforms
every room into a Ninja warrior arena. I'm sure your children are pursuing adventures of
their own. And I see you.
I see you at PTA and recital. I see
you shuttling to practice then to Target for poster board
while deciding which is less unhealthy: Sonic or McDonald’s as you live a life
on the go, accommodating their busy schedules.
I see this in light of what I know
about climate catastrophe.
I’ve been blogging about we’re doing to our soil, air, water and other living beings for nearly a decade.
I also work in the environmental field with people striving to change corporate
culture and public policy. I participate in workshops to increase communal awareness about a future worse than the dystopian novels my oldest is
fond of.
And you know what? I’m often the only
mom there with kids at home. That’s right. Rarely are there parents with school
age children at gatherings focused on the planet’s health.
Where are you?
Of course I know where you are. You are at soccer, tutoring, driving carpool, making dinner or helping with homework. You are attending to your child's present needs to ensure their well-being down the road.
Yet based on all existing evidence--beyond
the scope of practices, meets and SATs--that future we’re preparing them for, won’t
exist.
It won’t exist because everything on
our planet is falling apart. In life’s relay, the earth we’re handing off to
them is not the one handed off to us. What we don’t think about—stable
weather patterns, breathable air, viable soil, clean and plentiful water,
thriving ecosystems—is in severe crisis. The hopes we have for our children are
predicated on a planetary stability that is profoundly disintegrating.
I often think we are the swindling
tailors in the Emperor’s New Clothes. We weave pure illusion, duping our children regarding the naked facts of their
eminent peril. What we're currently doing will not ready them for the reality to come.
Our schools aren’t preparing them.
The enrichment activities we’re
frenzied over won’t either.
Ironically, the externalized costs to
the planet via fossil fuel expenditure and resources consumed for these
activities jeopardize their futures even more.
Are you up at night wondering how to equip
our children for this unprecedented reality? I am.
Only this time we cannot consult
Those-Who-Went-Before. There isn’t a virtual or actual community sharing tips on how to
thrive as a climate refugee,
or after your island has been submerged, after the rivers have become
toxic or dried up, after FEMA leaves or declines assistance, after the entire forest has been razed or burned. Or
when you literally walk
thousands of miles away from the only home you’ve ever known because there’s
nothing to eat.
You know what else keeps me up at
night? Children, just like ours, across the world, suffering because this future
is already their present.
Ah but we’ve been here before,
remember? When we first found out we were going to be mothers, we peered into a
great unknown. At the brink of that
unprecedented reality, compelled by love and necessity, we got busy. We prepared.
In fact, we're already past due.
Sincerely,
a momrade
