Climate Resilience for All of Us
When I think about climate change, earthquakes, and the end of civilization as we know it, I find myself pining over the small but significant comforts I’ll miss: Floss. Contact solution. A fresh toothbrush.
Yes, it’s true — I’m as tied into the consumer lifestyle as anyone I know, even though I live in what passes as a cabin in the woods; even though, after two-and-a-half years on Orcas, my mainland visits grow more and more infrequent.
Last week, however, I stepped out of my routine in hopes of doing something more to address the pre-apocalyptic anxiety still keeping me up at night, no matter how much meditation, yoga, and clean eating I manage to fit into my routine.
First, I picked up five 2.5 gallon jugs of water at Island Market and stashed them in the back of my woodshed. Not ideal I know, but now maybe I have enough water for a week or so after the big quake strikes, eh?
Next, I talked to Margie Doyle about writing for Orcas Issues. Because what better place to voice my anxieties and gather support for the coming collapse?
The other thing I did? Went to the Islands Climate Resilience (ICR) meeting in Friday Harbor. Uh huh. I did that. Everyone I mentioned it to that day rolled their eyes and said something akin to, “Better you than me!” — but hear me out, please.
It was my first real “political” meeting since moving to the Islands, and I wasn’t sure what to expect. Would I be bored to tears over long explorations of ocean acidification and the lifespan of tent caterpillars? Would I find myself facing twenty habitual activists with no interest in what a newcomer like me might have to say? Would I ride the ferry home in my own small seat, completely annoyed and intimidated?
The answer, thankfully, was no. Quite the opposite, in fact. The San Juan Grange was filled with what looked to be a broad spectrum of islanders. Nora Ferm of Cascadia Consulting gave a presentation on the climate changes we face here and around the world, and blue-shirted ICR members around the room held the space for an organized, solutions-focused discussion of a variety of climate-related issues. Together, they communicated an open, inclusive overall message: “We’re new to this too — just trying to figure it out. So glad you’re all here to be a part of it!”
People listened — even to ideas they disagreed with. There was a real sense of unity and mutual respect, and the room was absolutely packed. As Janet Alderton of Deer Harbor observed, “If we showed up in these numbers to County Council meetings, they’d have no choice but to listen to us!”
Afterward, the Orcas crowd had dinner at the Cask and Schooner, where we continued a lively and warm-hearted discussion that continued onto the ferry. I was much encouraged, and slept well that night.
Beyond the all-important details of climate adaptation that we discussed that evening — recycling water, building resilient food systems, clearing the forests of tinder — the thread that held it all together for me was this: The stronger our community networks, the better off we’ll all be in the event of a crisis.
That’s not terribly profound, I know — community-building is a common activity here on the Islands. From Potlucks with a Purpose offered by Transition Lopez Island, to Irthlingz and the newly established Green Drinks on Orcas, and the meetings of Sustainable Orcas Island at the public library, to any number of community get-togethers, sing-alongs, and bring-your-own-utensils events — people here have ample opportunity to offer their two cents about where we’re headed and how we’re going to get there.
But let’s be honest — we also have a tendency as islanders to retreat into our homes and social groups, and pretend we’re immune to mainland-style crises and concerns. Many of us shy away from tough political discussions, or save it for the people who agree with us.
And yet, this summer has made the situation more urgent — for me, anyway: the smoke in the air, the drought. The rising tide of climate refugees. I don’t feel so immune anymore, here in my Northwest hideaway.
So how do we get past inertia and fear, and face up to the inevitable future — a time when freshwater is scarce, fossil fuels are limited or unavailable, and food is either local or nonexistent?
Most importantly, in my mind — how do we get to those answers? Will decisions be made democratically, by islanders, for the benefit of everyone who lives here? Or will we be run over by powerful mainland systems — forced to accept state and federal “answers” to our problems?
How do we make sure that, when the chicken manure hits the fan (if not before), we meet the challenge with a united effort, taking charge of the health and well-being of ourselves, our neighbors, and the natural systems that sustain us?
That, in a nutshell, is the topic I’d like to explore in this semi-weekly column. I call it “Democracy Futures” because I believe democracy is a community-building exercise, essential to our future on this planet. If it doesn’t start here, at the local level, it doesn’t happen at the county, state, or federal levels, either.
Across the country and the world, local and indigenous communities are rising up to stop oil pipelines, fracking, GMOs, factory farms, and other terrible, corporate-sponsored ideas — and they are gaining ground. This summer, kids in Seattle sued the state over climate change and won . Dutch citizens just won a case requiring their government to reduce emissions by 25%, and similar suits are developing in Belgium and Norway.
In the lead-up to the U.N. climate talks in Paris this December, it makes sense to up the ante. But beyond that, actions like these — which reclaim the rights of communities and the natural systems that sustain us — put power back into the hands of We the People. They breed the kind of democracy we must forge if we are to face the consequences of climate change with dignity, peace, and justice for all.
So how do we manifest that kind of local unity here? I have some thoughts, but I’m most interested in gaining a better understanding of the ideas already brewing out there in Islander Land — many of which came up at the meeting last week. Drop me a line at lorib@democracyfutures.org, or comment away, if you please!
Lori Benjamin is a freelance writer based on Orcas. She consults for technology and marketing companies in Silicon Valley and beyond.
© Democracy Futures. Reprint only with permission.
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Thank you, Lori, for taking this subject on, and thank you, Orcas Issues, for recognizing the importance of it enough to have a dedicated column. I look forward to reading and learning more! (But then, I actually like hearing long explorations of ocean acidification and the lifecycle of tent caterpillars.)
Striving at the local level for greater sustainability and self reliance is a worthy goal, as is finding solutions that are complimentary to state and federal “answers” to a range of environmental challenges we face in these islands. Thanks for starting this column Lori. Looking forward to future issues.
Beautiful, Excellent, and well needed.
We are all in this together. (:
Yes, build your climate-change fallout shelters. But…Let’s put most of our efforts toward stopping and reversing climate change. Support candidates who will do something more than mandating greater fuel efficiency in cars by 2020 (Larsen’s climate change solution). You know who these candidates are.
Leif, if I can win you over, I’ll know I’m getting somewhere. :-)
Thank you Leif. I’m still incredulous that my Commander in Chief, who must be getting daily briefings on what, say, ISIS is doing, thinks it’s more pressing to be concerned about the temperature outside. There are sooo many elephants in this room now, I think I’m living in Botswana! Again, thank you, Leif!
Lori – thank you so much for this column, count me in as a regular reader. I have sort of a unique background to climate change as I served aboard a polar icebreaker for two of my four years serving my military obligation to our country in the early seventies. I went on three patrols – one to the Arctic, in part to monitor Soviet assets in the East Siberian Sea, and twice to Antarctica. Both poles have greatly changed in the short span of time since, and the difference in the Arctic is stunning. The decrease in sea ice (both in total area and presence of the important multiyear ice) has been corroborated by industry as the Northeast and Northwest Passages have become more attractive to transit. The change has been far too rapid to be natural, and is certainly manmade.
Ocean acidification is another related issue and while I’m not as certain about it at this point than I am about climate change, much of the evidence I’ve seen so far is compelling. (I might add that after my service I went on to get a graduate degree in marine biology, specifically Dungeness crab ecology).
I was moved to write after reading a previous comment that essentially we’ll die before the effects of climate change hit us. Well, that may be true for somebody my age but not for my kids and grandkids. This comment is being written for them. (Oh, and I also have an electric car I use here on Orcas and, just like George Schulz, Secretary of State under Ronald Reagan, I charge it using energy from our solar panels – not coal).
Thank you everyone for your important and valuable perspectives! I’ve gotten great response to this, and would like to reach out to some of you for further input. If I don’t have your email address and you’d like me to be in touch, please send it over. Ken, I particularly appreciate you sharing your experience with us!
And Leif — we’re all doing our best, I believe, with what we have. My hope is that we can face the hardships that loom with as much dignity and kindness as we can muster. The more prepared we are, the more likely that will be, I think. Joanna Macy’s books and talks have been helpful for me in dealing with the hopelessness I also experience when considering the ugliness we humans are capable of.