As it woke me my brain was already brimming with worry.
Because today I will be marching with my fellow activists
to demand a stronger agreement at COP21
and also to follow New York state in taking Exxon to trial
for lying and knowingly putting the Earth at risk.
I fell asleep thinking about the island nations.
Cultures I will never experience myself
tribes of unique humans, physically separated
from the rest of the globe.
I suddenly see how landlocked I truly am.
Living in this South Western city,
I will hardly experience the truest damages of climate change.
Yes my desert summers are increasingly scorching.
And as winter snowfall decreases, so does out water supply.
But we are urban dwellers, rich in wealth and amenities.
My studies have not led me to worry for my people to adapt
when the world rises a full 2 degrees C.
Today I wake in worry for the small islands.
Micronesia, the Maldives, Fiji...
Tropical paradises beaming with life and light.
Places where ancient cultures live in modernity.
Relationships with Gaia are pure and practices.
These nations are harming nobody,
these nations are living vibrant, healthy human lives.
Unfortunately, our excess is putting that health at stake.
Slowly, the hot oceans liquefy even the biggest glaciers.
Ocean tides are working their way in.
In towards the village, flooding the rich cropland.
Worsening every year, just like the heat in my deserts.
The high-water overflow comes back each season
with more vengeance, eating away at the smallest islands.
How can humans adapt to their entire world's under water?
Well here's the reality; some nations do, some don't.
Some nations care, some turn their heads.
I see this collective of ignorant bystanders.
A wall of backs on those who need it most.
Those we have harmed with our capitalist way of life.
My empathetic heart is under immense weight.
As my alarm chimed at 7am,
I was flooded with tears in a moments time.
This emotional outbreak was unlike anything regular.
The tears were not for the self or the ego, not even the soul.
These were the most selfless tears I've ever experienced.
The heaviness on my heart was for all those we have turned our backs on.
Every homeless man I didn't give money to.
Every country I ignorantly traveled through for materialist purposes.
The communities that have never seen a factory, living the externalities.
I'm seeing people of all races, all classes and cultures.
We have failed each other, and my heart has fallen under the pressure.
I allow myself to experience the first true breakdown as an environmentalist.
Everything else fell away and pure compassionate sadness for Gaia took me down.
I sat with the feelings and felt a cynical push to keep doing what I think is right.
I put on my red leggings, layers of coats, gloves, hat.
Pulled out my #Justice poster and flattened it down with my hands.
This is my movement, this is my calling, my sadness cannot deter me.
I walked out the door just around sunrise to pick up my baby sister
and march with the small but compassionate crown of environmental activists
in my great town of Salt Lake City.
To every one that was there for justice today, I so humbly and admirably thank you.
These issues are not easy, these issues are not happy.
But marching with a team of those who DIDN'T turn their backs on humanity,
That is a reason to march forth and be happy. We are a small family in a big movement.
And we shall overcome.
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| My baby sister at her first protest!! |
