When I first heard word that the Town of Wolfville was about to undertake a bold plan to transform it’s downtown core into a one-way system that would focus on pedestrians and active transportation options, my heart stopped. I was so overcome with hope and joy, because this beloved little town is a place I spent some significant years of my life, but I’ve mostly avoided since, due to the chaotic nature of the traffic in the area. However, in the time since this switch took place, I have spent more time in Wolfville than I probably have in the last number of years. It was easy to walk around. Easy to navigate, and not once did I have trouble finding a parking spot.
For those of you not in the know, Wolfville is home to Acadia University, some of the most breathtaking views, and a number of small businesses. It brings in countless tourism dollars, is the birthplace of grapenut ice cream, and has been the underlying source of inspiration for many careers in all manner of industries, from arts to business to politics to science, and everything in between.
There is no doubt that traffic issues in Wolfville are the bane of almost everyone’s existence. But in a time when traffic numbers are down significantly, we’re in need of a little bit of space, and some physical activity could go a long way, the idea of shutting down one lane to make room for people instead of cars was an exciting undertaking by Town Council. As someone working in the field of climate change, I understand the significance and impact of every trip in my car. I’ve calculated down to the 10th of a tree what it takes to remove the equivalent carbon, and this move by Council made me think, if we can make this work, all of the other things we are facing are that much closer within reach.
Unfortunately, not everyone felt as elated as I did. In fact, a core group of people rallied against council, in a mostly disrespectful and disappointing manner. It has always struck me as funny that people become so unreasonable and un-human whenever someone is brave enough to take on the norm. To me, threats, name calling, etc., is not part of the democratic process. And that these were made by adults, makes it all the more disgusting. And yet, Council moved forward with this plan, anyway, and again, I was filled with hope.
Having worked on climate related projects for the better part of a decade (officially), finding hope at the best of times is often a challenge. Our planet is changing at rates that are so devastating it’s hard to believe it’s possible to make even an ounce of difference at times. But that never stops us from trying. Amidst a pandemic (which is very much a part of that whole “climate change conspiracy” thing), finding hope is even more difficult, and admittedly, I have questioned on more than one occasion if this is truly a world I want to continue living in. For the record, I don’t. That’s why I am working so hard to make whatever change I can and to celebrate the few times that wins - no matter how small - are on the horizon.
So yesterday morning - when I (regretfully) opened up Facebook to read the update that only 3 weeks after actioning this people-focused plan, they were going to be tearing it down - my heart sunk. I’ve been on such a high for the last few weeks (despite my need for a break last week). Work has been good. Life has been good. And in the last couple of days my heart has hurt less, and my sense of hope has returned in a way I have missed. But after reading once sentence, it all went away again. Closed-minded, negative folks - +4 kajillion. Climate change, progressive action - -4 kajillion.
In no way am I saying that the plan was perfect. No plan ever is. But sadly - like so many other great ideas aimed at making the world better - its success was determined long before it was ever even actioned, and all because of our obsession with convenience and our sense of (greatly undeserved) entitlement. This is why we can’t have nice things (including a healthy planet that can provide us with all we need and more).
I have spoken with a number of people that have wholeheartedly opposed this initiative. I listened to their point of view (and probably did a bad job of responding to them, in exchange for their kindness to shed light on how they saw the situation - even if I truly did appreciate it). I considered it for a few days, even weeks. And while I do feel some of their points were valid, to me, the overarching possibility still outweighed the minimal chance of many of those concerns happening. Again - many were valid, but not all were realistic in terms of likelihood (possible, but not likely). I still don’t understand how anyone can quickly dismiss something at this rate, without giving it a try.
If this pandemic (which is still happening, in case you forgot!) teaches us anything, it should be that we are utterly FiretrUCKED and that we no longer have time to mess around. There has never been a more crucial point to step out of our comfort zone than right now. And once again, we’ve proven we are not capable of making change. Change that will be necessary to sustain life on this planet. The same lives we claim we care about when clinging to our current and outdated ways.
- the Orange Canadian
Thursday 30 July 2020
Tuesday 21 July 2020
COVID Chronicles Part 6: Poverty, burnout, and a loss of hope
I was doing so well with writing out what I was observing and feeling at the onset of the pandemic. It was a productive way for me to cope and focus my energy in a more positive way. But when the BLM protests began across the US and much of the world, the overwhelm at the bigger picture unfolding around me was too much for me to process.
In Nova Scotia, things have slowly been reopening, starting with countless businesses and services. Most recently, the province opened its borders to the rest of the Atlantic Provinces (Newfoundland, New Brunswick and PEI). All of these decisions are indicative of a step in the right direction. We’ve been permitted to see friends and family, explore our “backyards” and feel a bit of freedom. And with it, a growing proportion of the population has voiced concern for what that will mean in both the immediate and long-term outlook with Covid.
I have to say, I am not on the side of anxiousness at this news. It is great to see so many friends have the chance to hug their loved ones and/or open up the doors to their businesses once again. There is a certain level of hope and comfort that comes from that - for me, at least.
But I have to admit, I am not immune to anxiety within the wider sense of this situation. While things open up, and I see those around me going back to their pre-Covid routines and activities, that comfort is quickly turned into fear. I know this is partly the signs of burnout, from all of the many things happening around me and not having the right outlets for me to channel it. But it’s also a consequence of the nature of my work, and the realization that we, as a species, are not great at staying the course or change more broadly.
I have made it quite clear going into the pandemic that this was an opportune time to address the many inequities of our planet. Speaking mostly from a climate lens, I saw this as perhaps, nature's way of cleaning house. I fully anticipated to say goodbye to loved ones - and I may very well have to yet. I also hoped we would see the error of our ways, as we collectively watched in horror at the events happening around the world. And yet, I feel more hopeless than I have at any point in my career in this particular field.
Over the course of the last few months, I have quite blatantly, been accused of harbouring a selfish mentality towards the potential of contracting the virus. I’ve had several people tell me that by not being concerned about my own wellbeing, or by sharing that globally, the planet could do with a mass reduction in population, that I was not being a good human. And to those folks, I’d say you’ve missed my point. I am very much concerned about lives of the people around me - my friends, my family, and the many random strangers that I’ve encountered throughout my life. While I may be lax on my own concern of contracting the virus, I’ve followed the rules so that those around me would be safe.
The truth is, at least from how I see it, there is a far greater loss of life on the way - though it’s not directly at the hands of Covid, but rather an offshoot. While most people seemed to be concerned about the here and now, my concerns have always been with what the longer-term impacts are likely to be.
If the BLM movement is teaching us anything, it’s that there are imbedded inequities that exist in every system and structure within our society. In fact, the environmental justice movement was born out of racial injustice in the United States in the mid-1960s. Climate change and social justice are inextricably linked. They coexist, if you will. And what makes this so important, is that right now, we have an opportunity to address both. But we won’t.
I went for a walk with a friend a few weeks ago and we talked about the political and economic implications of our current scenario. We talked about how those with jobs or big savings will come out of this on top. They have been and will continue to easily access their basic and not-so-basic needs just fine. But it’s the proportion of our population that was already at a disadvantage that are going to suffer - and in ways that are not only unimaginable, but unacceptable.
I believe that in the coming months, as the proverbial dust settles, we’re going to see higher instances of death by suicide. I believe domestic violence rates are going to skyrocket more so than we’ve already seen happen. And I believe we will see a significant number of people die at the hands of poverty - in whatever form you want to look at that from. But this isn’t an “us vs. them” scenario or a “here vs. there.” We will witness neighbours and friends - not just those we’ve been trained to equate with these inequities. Yes, I think Africa and much of Latin America are going to be at a massive disadvantage when it comes to lives lost. But I also think it is naive to dismiss this very thing as potentially happening here, closer to home.
I worry about the single parents who, like my own mother, had to make difficult choices everyday, like whether to pay the power bill or feed her children. I worry about how food and energy security* will place further stresses on families at growing rates, for which we have not previously experienced (thinking specifically about the West). And what I worry about the most, is that we have the tools to alleviate this - on a global scale - but we have yet to learn that the many challenges facing us today are not siloed, rather they are a symptom of the other.
So how do we fix it? How do we shift away from focusing on what we can’t do and move towards the steps forward? In all honesty, I don’t know anymore. In my head it is overly simplistic, but then again, I don’t have a political agenda. I truly just want everyone to get along and find the solutions together. The reality is, the solutions are far more complex than we realize and yet are staring right in front of us.
If we look at how many are reacting to the pandemic, you don’t have to wait long to witness someone willing to bend the rules for their own ease or convenience. They think they are above the rules. They are putting the rest at risk. And this is where I differ. I’m not concerned about my personal wellbeing. I am, however, deeply concerned for the wellbeing of others and how they will survive these next few years. I am willing to give up my freedoms for the greater good. But those who see wearing a mask for 30 minutes as an attack on their rights are the perfect example of why my hope for action and a better way forward sinks lower every day. We are inherently selfish beings. We couldn’t even go a day without leaving our homes unnecessarily. We are reminded numerous times a day to wash our hands, and then given instructions to remind us how to do it properly. So how are we supposed to solve the complexity of a climate crisis, if we can’t even follow two simple directives?
I need a break from all of this to clear my head. To find some rest, and some peace. Time to find my breath...
- the Orange Canadian
*In my own county, 46% of the population is considered energy insecure. This means that at least 10% of their income goes to paying in-home energy costs. And this was pre-Covid - Imaging what that could look like in a year from now.
In Nova Scotia, things have slowly been reopening, starting with countless businesses and services. Most recently, the province opened its borders to the rest of the Atlantic Provinces (Newfoundland, New Brunswick and PEI). All of these decisions are indicative of a step in the right direction. We’ve been permitted to see friends and family, explore our “backyards” and feel a bit of freedom. And with it, a growing proportion of the population has voiced concern for what that will mean in both the immediate and long-term outlook with Covid.
I have to say, I am not on the side of anxiousness at this news. It is great to see so many friends have the chance to hug their loved ones and/or open up the doors to their businesses once again. There is a certain level of hope and comfort that comes from that - for me, at least.
But I have to admit, I am not immune to anxiety within the wider sense of this situation. While things open up, and I see those around me going back to their pre-Covid routines and activities, that comfort is quickly turned into fear. I know this is partly the signs of burnout, from all of the many things happening around me and not having the right outlets for me to channel it. But it’s also a consequence of the nature of my work, and the realization that we, as a species, are not great at staying the course or change more broadly.
I have made it quite clear going into the pandemic that this was an opportune time to address the many inequities of our planet. Speaking mostly from a climate lens, I saw this as perhaps, nature's way of cleaning house. I fully anticipated to say goodbye to loved ones - and I may very well have to yet. I also hoped we would see the error of our ways, as we collectively watched in horror at the events happening around the world. And yet, I feel more hopeless than I have at any point in my career in this particular field.
Over the course of the last few months, I have quite blatantly, been accused of harbouring a selfish mentality towards the potential of contracting the virus. I’ve had several people tell me that by not being concerned about my own wellbeing, or by sharing that globally, the planet could do with a mass reduction in population, that I was not being a good human. And to those folks, I’d say you’ve missed my point. I am very much concerned about lives of the people around me - my friends, my family, and the many random strangers that I’ve encountered throughout my life. While I may be lax on my own concern of contracting the virus, I’ve followed the rules so that those around me would be safe.
The truth is, at least from how I see it, there is a far greater loss of life on the way - though it’s not directly at the hands of Covid, but rather an offshoot. While most people seemed to be concerned about the here and now, my concerns have always been with what the longer-term impacts are likely to be.
If the BLM movement is teaching us anything, it’s that there are imbedded inequities that exist in every system and structure within our society. In fact, the environmental justice movement was born out of racial injustice in the United States in the mid-1960s. Climate change and social justice are inextricably linked. They coexist, if you will. And what makes this so important, is that right now, we have an opportunity to address both. But we won’t.
I went for a walk with a friend a few weeks ago and we talked about the political and economic implications of our current scenario. We talked about how those with jobs or big savings will come out of this on top. They have been and will continue to easily access their basic and not-so-basic needs just fine. But it’s the proportion of our population that was already at a disadvantage that are going to suffer - and in ways that are not only unimaginable, but unacceptable.
I believe that in the coming months, as the proverbial dust settles, we’re going to see higher instances of death by suicide. I believe domestic violence rates are going to skyrocket more so than we’ve already seen happen. And I believe we will see a significant number of people die at the hands of poverty - in whatever form you want to look at that from. But this isn’t an “us vs. them” scenario or a “here vs. there.” We will witness neighbours and friends - not just those we’ve been trained to equate with these inequities. Yes, I think Africa and much of Latin America are going to be at a massive disadvantage when it comes to lives lost. But I also think it is naive to dismiss this very thing as potentially happening here, closer to home.
I worry about the single parents who, like my own mother, had to make difficult choices everyday, like whether to pay the power bill or feed her children. I worry about how food and energy security* will place further stresses on families at growing rates, for which we have not previously experienced (thinking specifically about the West). And what I worry about the most, is that we have the tools to alleviate this - on a global scale - but we have yet to learn that the many challenges facing us today are not siloed, rather they are a symptom of the other.
So how do we fix it? How do we shift away from focusing on what we can’t do and move towards the steps forward? In all honesty, I don’t know anymore. In my head it is overly simplistic, but then again, I don’t have a political agenda. I truly just want everyone to get along and find the solutions together. The reality is, the solutions are far more complex than we realize and yet are staring right in front of us.
If we look at how many are reacting to the pandemic, you don’t have to wait long to witness someone willing to bend the rules for their own ease or convenience. They think they are above the rules. They are putting the rest at risk. And this is where I differ. I’m not concerned about my personal wellbeing. I am, however, deeply concerned for the wellbeing of others and how they will survive these next few years. I am willing to give up my freedoms for the greater good. But those who see wearing a mask for 30 minutes as an attack on their rights are the perfect example of why my hope for action and a better way forward sinks lower every day. We are inherently selfish beings. We couldn’t even go a day without leaving our homes unnecessarily. We are reminded numerous times a day to wash our hands, and then given instructions to remind us how to do it properly. So how are we supposed to solve the complexity of a climate crisis, if we can’t even follow two simple directives?
I need a break from all of this to clear my head. To find some rest, and some peace. Time to find my breath...
- the Orange Canadian
*In my own county, 46% of the population is considered energy insecure. This means that at least 10% of their income goes to paying in-home energy costs. And this was pre-Covid - Imaging what that could look like in a year from now.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)