Reminder: the People’s Climate March is coming up next month

Poster by Favianna Rodriguez

I know I haven’t been blogging about climate change much lately because my mind has been on other things (and because I only have the energy to think, act, and write about so many issues at once). But I haven’t forgotten.

The People’s Climate March, which will take place in New York on September 21st, will be the single largest climate event to date.

This is going to be huge, and it’s important.

As Bill McKibben says in his call to action:

You can watch the endgame of the fossil-fuel era with a certain amount of hope. The pieces are in place for real, swift, sudden change, not just slow and grinding linear shifts: If Germany on a sunny day can generate half its power from solar panels, and Texas makes a third of its electricity from wind, then you know technology isn’t an impossible obstacle anymore. The pieces are in place, but the pieces won’t move themselves. That’s where movements come in. They’re not subtle; they can’t manage all the details of this transition. But they can build up pressure on the system, enough, with luck, to blow out those bags of money that are blocking progress with the force of Typhoon Haiyan on a Filipino hut. Because if our resistance fails, there will be ever-stronger typhoons. The moment to salvage something of the Holocene is passing fast. But it hasn’t passed yet, which is why September is so important.

I’m going to be there, and I hope you’ll join me.

You can check out the event’s transportation page to see if there are buses going from your area to the march. Many local 350.org chapters are also holding art builds before the event–there will be six here in Massachusetts alone–so even if you can’t attend the march itself, there are still ways to get involved.

Climate disaster is not a white, middle-class issue: on narratives and the need to build bridges

I’m somewhere in here. (source: 350MA Facebook page)

Last night, I attended a last-minute vigil protesting the Keystone XL pipeline, inspired by the State Department’s release of a report that green-lighted it.

It was heartening to be part of such a large crowd assembled at such short notice–there were over 200 people gathered in Harvard Square alone, and it was one of multiple events in the Boston area. It felt good to sing and chant and hold signs, to make our unequivocal “NO!” to climate destruction heard. It was heartening to feel the warmth of community, of spirited resistance, on a snowy day.

And yet. I looked around at all the white, middle-class, crunchy/hippie/folkie faces and thought, “We’re never going to succeed if we can only appeal to people like ourselves.”

We can only save the world if we can build bridges, if we can build a movement that resonates with people from all walks of life.  Climate disaster is not an issue that affects only canvas-bag-toting, organic-food-eating, voluntary-simplicity-loving liberals–we’re all in this together, and we need to face it together.

(A few caveats: I’m aware that Boston doesn’t represent the international climate movement, so what I’m saying may or may not apply on a larger scale. Also, I’m aware that it’s somewhat hypocritical of me to criticize the whiteness of local climate activism when the fat-positive events I’ve held have also been mostly white. I know it’s a problem, and I am working to change it.)

Quote of the day: Veteran’s Day and Typhoon Haiyan

Image from 350.org

We are deeply grateful to the folks who have sacrificed quality time with loved ones, health, limbs, and everything else for our country. You are forever heroes to us.

But we want to honor veterans of a different war, today. Veterans who didn’t volunteer to fight, but instead were forced to. Veterans who pay a steep price, against their will, so that the rest of us can enjoy lights, fancy cars, fast trains, and every other luxury that currently comes from the fossil fuel industry.

So much love and honor to our Pilipino sisters and brothers, and our deepest apologies. We promise, everyday, to work towards a just, sustainable world, where you don’t have to bear the brunt of the burden, for the world’s extreme energy addiction.

— Melodeego

Typhoon Haiyan is a horrific, heart-breaking reminder of what’s at stake in the fight for climate justice. We need to fight like hell to prevent more such disasters from happening. And in the meantime, the survivors in the Phillipines need our help. CNN has a list of ways to help here.

#EnergyExodus OOTD: unicorns and glitter

On Sunday night, I posted on Facebook, “I am probably the only person in the world who spends the evening before a climate justice action trying to decide what to wear. #fatshionistaproblems”

One of my friends commented: “Somebody needs to show those poor earnest people how fabulous the future can be.”

Indeed. It’s a hard job, but somebody’s got to do it.

skirt: two small skirts from Buffalo Exchange, sewn together by an awesome friend!, underskirt: thrifted, shirt: 350.org online store, bow: Crown & Glory, bangles: Deb and Torrid, necklace and earrings: So Good

Dogs, dancing, and people power: I made it to the #EnergyExodus after all

Yesterday, I ended up finding the energy to make it to the concluding rally of the Energy Exodus. Due to some last-minute Facebook connecting, I even managed to find a ride.

And I’m so glad I did.

As David Roberts says in his brilliant essay, Hope and Fellowship (which deserves its own post):

When we ask for hope, then, I think we’re just asking for fellowship. The weight of climate change, like any weight, is easier to bear with others. And if there’s anything I’ve learned in these last 10 years, it’s that there are many, many others. They are out there, men and women of extraordinary imagination, courage, and perseverance, pouring themselves into this fight for a better future.

And that’s exactly what I got from the Energy Exodus. Hope, in the form of fellowship with everyone from children to grandmothers. Hope, in the form of dancing.

There was even a dog. Not a golden retriever, but still pretty cute.

Beyond recycling: ten things you can do to fight climate change

From 350.org’s Facebook page

I recently read Joe Solomon’s piece In Defense of a Fearless Summer, in which he calls for a summer of action:

I believe by couching this Summer as a “Fearless Summer”, we can speak to the truth-telling neighbor in a fracked community who is being bullied to keep quiet, to the climate activist grandmother who stays up late at night afraid for the future of her grandchildren, and to the fresh-faced college student who is ready to take a bolder stand. As well as to the thousands upon thousands of progressives who still haven’t entered this fight–afraid that it’s a lost cause, or of what lies beyond recycling. We must all face our fears together.

When I posted it on Facebook, one of my friends raised a good point: what does lie beyond recycling? She pointed out that reducing her carbon footprint by composting, reducing her public transit use, etc. was not currently feasible for her.

This is a really common misconception, based on the environmental messaging we’ve been getting since childhood: that the way to save the planet is through individual actions like recycling, using less water, buying more energy-efficient lightbulbs.

Don’t get me wrong–these things are still a good idea. But they alone are not going to prevent global temperatures from rising to an unlivable level.

What can? Political action. Action aimed at changing our very broken economic system, and building a new, sustainable one.

Here are a few places to start. Not all of them apply to everyone, but maybe you’ll find one or two or three things you can do. And, as overwhelming as it all may feel–and believe me, I get as overwhelmed and scared as anyone–any action is better than nothing.

Ten Small Steps You Can Take to Fight Climate Change

1.) Take the Climate Pledge of Resistance. If you’re not in a position to risk arrest, you can pledge to support those who are.

2.) Attend a local meeting of 350.org.

3.) If you can’t make the regular meetings, check out the calendar of your local 350 chapter and see if you can go to another event. For example, here in Massachusetts, we have weekly letter-writing parties, and there’s a dance performance benefit coming up. Get on your chapter’s mailing list to stay informed about future events.

4.) If your school, church, or town has a fossil fuel divestment campaign, sign their petition.

5.) Call out climate deniers in Congress via Twitter. If you don’t have Twitter, email works too.

6.) Contact the big environmental groups that haven’t divested from fossil fuels, and ask them why.

7.) Invest directly in solar energy through a site like Mosaic.

8.) Contribute to the campaign to build a climate justice hub in Boston, or see if there’s a similar campaign in your area.

9.) Donate to an organization that fights climate change, such as 350.org, the Indigenous Environmental Network, the Better Future Project, Tar Sands Blockade, or the Climate Reality Project.

10.) Spread the word and signal-boost. Talk about why climate justice matters to you. Pass along important articles like these. Bring friends to meetings and events. If you can’t make it to an event, or if you want to support a campaign but can’t afford to donate, pass along the information on your social networks.

Why climate justice matters to me

A fossil fuel divestment rally at a college where I’ve worked. You can see me on the right. Photo by James Ennis.

So, you may have noticed that I’ve been blogging more and more about climate change/climate justice.

I’m not going to stop writing about fatshion, fat acceptance, and pretty things–in fact, I’ve got several outfit posts in the works, and lots of interesting stuff about sustainable fashion. (I just need to sit down and put it together!) But climate justice….well, it’s where my heart is right now.

I’ve been aware of global warming for as long as I can remember–I learned about greenhouses gases in elementary school. And I’ve known for years that things are pretty bad, and only getting worse. But there are so many terrible things in the world–sometimes, you have to push some of them to the back of your mind to stay sane.

So I pushed what’s happening to our planet to the back of my mind, mostly.

But lately I’ve found I can’t do that anymore.

I’ve been tip-toeing the fine line between recognizing the urgency of the problem and getting overwhelmed: vacillating between hope and hopelessness, action and inaction. Doing my best to push through it all, and just act.