The first time I was in a radio station for an interview, I was with Arnie Arnenson and my friend, Maureen Mann, who was
Author and teacher Joanna Macy, describes an activist as “anyone who does something for more than personal advantage.” It took me a while to accept that title, but now I wear it proudly.
I’m fighting. Not for me, but for my family. I have children. I have grandchildren, biological and by love. I want the world to be a better place for them. They deserve better than this.
Today’s children shouldn’t have to live in fear of rising water levels and the threat of droughts. Extreme weather conditions. Fires, tornadoes, hurricanes. Contaminated water. Water shortages. Food shortages. The sixth mass extinction. My grandkids are facing the prospect of trying to live on an unlivable planet. That, I fear, may well be their future.
I am an activist. I want to fix this crisis that mankind has created, and is now threatening our very existence. I’m trying to fight, but there is so much to do that some days I no longer know where to start. I think I know the direction that we need to take to try to fix it. But, more and more, I find myself wondering if we are too late; is “fixing” it even possible? Do we need to “rethink activism in the face of catastrophic biological collapse?“
Maybe it is too late, and there’s nothing left that can be done. I hope not. Because I’m a fighter. And I’m a grandma. I’m not a quitter. I MUST do what I can to protect this earth for those precious grandchildren.
Fortunately, I’m not alone. We are
Who’s with us?