Since January 1, 2010, I've been writing a letter to the editor every day on some aspect of climate change. I get published fairly frequently. All the letters, published or not, eventually show up at my blog.
I try and divide my attention between major outlets (the NY Times has published me five times!) and smaller papers. These latter have fewer readers...but they're more likely to print letters (just think of how many people write letters to Time magazine every week!). Every so often I try for papers and magazines outside the United States, and it's always pleasant to find myself in print in Pakistan or the Philippines.
The Climate Letter Project is a daily Practice of Conscience that's both a point of pride and a source of sorrow. It has exposed me to far more bad news per day than anyone should have to confront, and given me a ritual for confronting it. More on that later in this diary.
But first, here's the Hummingbird Story:
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
In May 2006, the late environmental activist and Nobel Peace Prize winner Wangari Maathai addressed 7,000 international educators who had gathered in Montreal for the 58th annual conference of the National Association of Foreign Student Advisers (NAFSA). Here is the story she shared with them.
One day a terrible fire broke out in a forest - a huge woodlands was suddenly engulfed by a raging wild fire. Frightened, all the animals fled their homes and ran out of the forest. As they came to the edge of a stream they stopped to watch the fire and they were feeling very discouraged and powerless. They were all bemoaning the destruction of their homes. Every one of them thought there was nothing they could do about the fire, except for one little hummingbird.
This particular hummingbird decided it would do something. It swooped into the stream and picked up a few drops of water and went into the forest and put them on the fire. Then it went back to the stream and did it again, and it kept going back, again and again and again. All the other animals watched in disbelief; some tried to discourage the hummingbird with comments like, "Don't bother, it is too much, you are too little, your wings will burn, your beak is too tiny, it’s only a drop, you can't put out this fire."
And as the animals stood around disparaging the little bird’s efforts, the bird noticed how hopeless and forlorn they looked. Then one of the animals shouted out and challenged the hummingbird in a mocking voice, "What do you think you are doing?" And the hummingbird, without wasting time or losing a beat, looked back and said:
"I am doing what I can."
|
In this time of escalating climate change, this is our challenge.
To refuse to surrender to the apathy of denialism and fatalism.
To be fierce in our defense of the Earth.
To continue to fight in the face of overwhelming odds.
And always, always, to do what we can.
Because it is only by each of us doing what we can, every day, that we will save the Earth – for ourselves, and for the generations to come. Like the hummingbird.
Our Daily Kos community organizers are Patriot Daily News Clearinghouse, boatsie, rb137, JekyllnHyde, citisven, peregrine kate, John Crapper, Aji, and Kitsap River. Photo credit and copyright: Kossack desertguy and Luma Photography. All rights reserved. Used with permission.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Like that hummingbird, I'm doing what I can.
For now, here are a few recently published letters, and some updates about what I've been doing and thinking.
Enjoy, if that's really the right word:
Over the course of my life as a musician, I've fallen in love dozens, scores, hundreds of times. A new sound, a new idea, a novel way of organizing the dancing air molecules that transmit meaning within and between cultures...learning about the music of our species has been a never-ending fascination and a continual source of renewal.
If Galactic Overlords showed up on our planet and asked us to demonstrate why our species and our planet should not be obliterated, what would we show them?
Our ability to kill one another? Our capacity for ruthless sociopathic exploitation of our environment? Our compassionate and efficient forms of government?
If we really want the Galactic Overlords not to blow us up, we'd be better off showing them our music.
Our gamelans, our mbiras, our yodeling, our gamaks, our lieder. Our M.S. Subbulakshmi, our Thomas Quasthoff, our Kishori Amonkar, our Pete Seeger, our Maybelle Carter. Our fugues and ragas and wayangs and bebop.
Surely such beauty and eloquence is a character witness for our species.
When I was a teenager living in a Somerville apartment, one of my roommates brought home some old reel-to-reel tapes that had belonged to his dad. One of them was a sort of letter from a guy named Tony Schwartz. Much later I found out he was the guy who'd made the famous "Daisy" ad which ended any of Barry Goldwater's hopes of gaining the presidency.
But this was different — and it was the first exposure I'd ever had to someone who was truly fascinated with music as a global phenomenon. Tony Schwartz was my first musicological role model. Take some time and listen, and imagine the effect it had on seventeen-year-old me:
Of course, all this music that we've imagined and evolved over the past eight or nine millennia has been made possible by a reasonably benign Earthly environment — a planet that has fed us and sheltered us and kept enough of us safe from privation and violence long enough to develop complex ways of transmitting social constructions of meaning with organized sound.
Music couldn't have developed to such an extent under hostile circumstances.
Therein lies my great fear and my great sorrow. To be sure, I love penguins and pelicans and praying mantises and sequoias and snail darters and all the other ways that DNA uses to express its curiosity about the environment. I am in awe of nature's diversity — and since I'm a musician, I hear that diversity manifest in sound.
No two animals sound alike. No acoustic niche is left unfilled in a complete natural environment; our species evolved and grew in a symphonic world. It's only natural that humanity's music should reflect this, and manifest all the diversity found in nature.
The mechanisms of the Music Business have done to this acoustical diversity what the mechanisms of the Food Business have done to our agricultural diversity. Our songs are starting to sound alike, and that's as bad for our sonic health as monocropping and chemical fertilizers are for our bodies.
And just as monocropped agriculture can be easily destroyed by the wrong environmental factors at the wrong time (Potato Famine, anyone?), musical monocropping offers us little resilience in the face of the storms which lie ahead for our species.
We'll need as many different kinds of songs as possible if we're going to make it through the next few thousand years.
Music Is A Climate Issue.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
South Coast Today (MA) talks about these excellent specimens of humanity:
NEW BEDFORD — Eighty people rallied for green jobs and wind energy Thursday as the six-day long Energy Exodus march from Brayton Point Power Station stopped in both New Bedford and Fairhaven on the way to a Hyannis rally for Cape Wind.
"Today we're celebrating the construction of (South Terminal) behind us here, showing that there are already jobs coming to the SouthCoast because of the wind industry," said Craig Altemose, executive director of Better Future Project, which is organizing the 66-mile march to build momentum for clean energy.
"This is not some idealistic dream — there are real, good jobs and there's a lot more where those came."
With the hurricane barrier on one side, old mill buildings behind and the Fairhaven turbines off in the distance, the crew of marchers stood at South Terminal cheering New Bedford for its move towards green energy.
No sarcasm here. Only admiration. Wish I was out there with 'em. August 29:
Almost two hundred and forty years ago, courageous patriots responded to a midnight call, and their actions are not only an indelible part of our nation’s history, but an eloquent argument for heeding early-warning systems.
Today's Paul Reveres are the world’s climatologists, who have been sounding the alarm for decades, in the face of a complacent citizenry and a complaisant political establishment. And today's "Minutemen"? They're the people who recognize the urgency of the warning, and the need for action, whether it's "positive" (pressing for new sources of renewable energy instead of carbon-polluting fossil fuels) or "negative" (working to block destructive initiatives like the disastrous Keystone XL pipeline).
In a media environment where the majority of the world's eyes are focused on the latest pop-tart's scandal du jour, environmentalists face marginalization, hostility, and ridicule as they strive to make possible a world in which our energy consumption no longer imperils our species' future. The members of the Energy Exodus march are the true patriots of our time.
Warren Senders
Published.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
This August I went to India to give concerts, record, and spend some time with my wife's family in Pune and Mumbai. I had a very successful trip, aside from catching a stubborn cold that has left me still coughing and hoarse more than three weeks later.
Five concerts and a recording session which featured perhaps the highest ratio of usable music to studio time in my entire experience as a musician; with three hours in the studio, I got two hours and twenty minutes of pretty damn good music in the can.
On August 11 I gave a mehfil (house concert) for an invited audience at a private residence in Pune. Here's a link to a two-part khyal in the lovely night raga Chhayanat. Hope you like it.
So yeah, I had fun. But that's not all.
On this concert tour I began something new: a "Climate Service Announcement."
It's a P.S.A. for climate change awareness, tailored to the audience and the musical genre. Indian music is built around a very deeply rooted reverence for tradition. Practitioners of these genres are expected to know their musical lineages back through many generations — theoretically in an unbroken line back to the mythological musicians of ancient India, practically at least five or six generations. For example, I'm a disciple of S.G. Devasthali who was a disciple of Gajananrao Joshi who was a disciple of Anant Manohar Joshi who was a disciple of Balakrishnabua Ichalkaranjikar who was a disciple of Haddu and Hassu Khan...which gets us to the late 1800s. After that I have to check my notes.
Over the years I've been active in the climate movement, I've gradually put together a statement that links this conception of musical history to the impact of climate change — and on this tour I started telling people about it. Like this:
…thank you so much for your wonderful wonderful listening. I'm going to sing another item, but before I do I'm going to make what I call a Climate Service Announcement.
For all of us who love this music…and we would not be here if we did not love this music…we sing, and we listen, we play…and this tradition goes back so many hundreds of years. When people learn this music it is in the hope and the understanding that we will carry on the tradition into the future. As far back as it goes in the past, it should go that far into the future.
And it is for this reason that I make these remarks. Because global climate change, global warning, threatens our civilization — all the civilizations around the world. Without a stable civilization, no music can flourish.
So we owe it — for the sake of the music, let alone the beauties of our glorious planet, but for this beautiful music, and for all the music that people make everywhere around the world. So many beautiful songs are there. If I lived a million years I could never learn all the songs.
And so, let us all resolve to pay attention to the issue of climate change…
I ask you, for the sake of the music that we love, for the sake of the future, so that my teacher's teacher's teacher's teacher's teacher's music can go on to my students' students' students' students' students — that we should have a stable climate, that we should focus our attention on that, and let other people know. Let us be aware of that, because the news is not good, so for those who love this music, this is an issue of deep importance.
Over the coming months I am going to be pushing this idea to all the musicians I know; I know a lot of musicians, in a lot of different genres.
We need to pay attention and work to prevent the worst-case outcomes, because if we fail...well, there will still opportunities for us to sing and play, but too many of those gigs will involve comforting the dying.
I've sung for a dying man, and it was a moving experience and I'm glad I did it. I will do it again, as often as necessary, for this is part of a musician's dharma. But I wouldn't want it to be my main gig, if you know what I mean.
So, musicians: all you have to do is say something to your listeners, once a night, once a set. Let them know that if they love music, they need to pay attention to climate change issues. Just that much.
A hummingbird's beakful of words, that's all. Just do what you can.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
The Providence Journal offers Tricia K. Jedele a nice chance to take down a denialist clown:
The only people living in the “land of make believe,” as suggested by Michael Stenhouse in his Aug. 22 Commentary piece (“Global warming alarms deny reality”), are those who contend that we, as human beings, cannot affect the natural world with our choices — those who would rather embrace conspiracy theories than science and reason.
To suggest that the science supporting human-caused climate change is the result of some radical environmental movement determined to spread fear-mongering propaganda is akin to arguing that that there is no evidence that smoking causes cancer, or that the thick black smoke pouring out of the back of diesel-fueled trucks, airplane engines and smoke stacks from fossil-fuel-fired power plants doesn’t cause respiratory illnesses. Not only is it ridiculous to compare environmental advocacy around climate change to a radical fear-mongering movement; it is propaganda itself.
We human beings make all kinds of daily decisions to avoid potential adverse consequences, and we make those decisions with a lot less justification than the scientific-based reasons we have to address the causes of climate change. We bring an umbrella because it looks like rain. We look both ways when crossing a street that rarely has traffic. We buckle up even though we’ve never been in a car accident. We take action because it is within our power to do so and because we can avoid potential negative consequences by taking that action.
I dug out one of my earlier anti-think-tank letters and restructured it a bit. This is easy. August 28:
Tricia Jedele's pitch-perfect response to Michael Stenhouse's denialist screed is a fine takedown of a standard example of conservative mendacity. Mr. Stenhouse represents a "conservative think tank" calling itself the "Rhode Island Center for Freedom and Prosperity," which should be a dead giveaway.
Here's how it works: for decades extractive industries anxious to safeguard their unimaginable profit margins have sunk millions into “think tanks” and “institutes” whose job it is to provide the news media with telegenic, and authoritative-sounding “consultants,” “analysts,” or “research associates” who earn a fine salary for mouthing misinformation in order to counter the findings of (very worried) climate scientists. The more confusion they spread about the very real and increasingly undeniable climate crisis, the less likely it is that our politicians will actually face public pressure to mitigate the runaway greenhouse effect.
Thus corporate malefactors pit their greed against the planet’s need, ensuring a few more quarters of record-breaking returns. Mr. Stenhouse's confusion about the causes and consequences of climate change is a fine confirmation of Upton Sinclair's famous quotation, "It is difficult to get a man to understand something when his salary depends upon his not understanding it."
Warren Senders
Published.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
While I have you here, let me update you on the regular series of "Climate Concerts" I've been producing in Boston. Since October of 2009 we've presented seven concerts, and raised over $8000 for 350.org and the Massachusetts chapter, 350MA. This June we put on "Dancing For The Planet," with three separate dance companies, and it was truly amazing; one of the most exciting concerts I've ever seen, period. For example, check out Nani Agbeli & the Agbekor Society:
Upcoming in the fall is a "Playing For The Planet" featuring three great artists with their ensembles, in an event that covers American Swing, Hindustani Ragas, and an innovative fusion of Eastern European and Jazz traditions. Naturally, all proceeds will go to www.350MA.org. Boston Kossacks, I'll hope to see you there. Check it out:
These concerts aren't just to raise money, of course. They're meant to raise awareness; not everyone who shows up knows about the severity of the climate crisis...but they do now — and because of the diversity we showcase in these events, they've got a sense of what's at stake in terms of the cultural losses that are increasingly likely in a world with a climate gone mad.
In my dream of a planet fully awakened and fully responsible, such concerts would be happening everywhere, every night.
Just doing what I can.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
More on the Energy Exodus heroes, from Cape Cod Online:
HYANNIS – Dr. Turner Bledsoe, 79, said walking 70 miles over the past six days hurt.
“Every step was painful,” said the Hingham resident.
But, he added, “It's the most important hike of my life.”
Bledsoe was the oldest member of a core group of around 50 hikers who participated in the Energy Exodus, walking from the Brayton Point Power Station in Somerset and arriving in Hyannis Monday.
“The idea of the Energy Exodus march was to show a departure from fossil fuel addiction,” explained Varshini Prakash, a student organizer and staff member of the Better Future Project, a nonprofit supporting grass roots efforts to address climate change.
The march began at the Brayton Point Power Station, which is described on the station's Website as, “one of New England's largest fossil-fueled generating facilities.
FSM bless them, every one. No kidding. September 3:
It was two hundred and thirty-eight years ago that a few courageous patriots responded to a midnight call and became an indelible part of our nation’s history. The Minutemen of Middlesex also make a convincing argument as to why it's a good idea to heed early-warning systems. The world’s climatologists are the Paul Reveres of today, and they've been sounding the alarm for far longer than most of us know, in the face of a lazy media and a political establishment that has been co-opted when it hasn't simply been purchased outright.
Today’s Minutemen, of course, are the ones who recognize the gravity of the crisis and the need for action. People like those in Energy Exodus, who joined a 70-mile walk in the hopes of spurring a genuine response to a genuine emergency.
When America’s eyes are fixed on pop stars and the vacuous talking heads of television news, environmental activists strive towards a world where our consumption of energy no longer endangers humanity's future. These brave men and women are the true patriots of the age.
Warren Senders
Published.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
I want to thank everyone in the DK Climate community for all their support, their kind words, their gracious praise for the work I've done over the past four years.
Because it's time to move on. I'll still write letters, but as of December 31 of this year, I'm bringing the Climate Letter Project to an end.
Why?
Well...I'll tell you.
Before we left for India, my wife and I took our daughter out to Amherst to visit her Grandma. We went out to a beautiful museum full of dinosaurs (Amherst College — it's awesome!).
I had my computer with me and in an interlude between bouts of fossil fascination with a charming 8-year-old girl, I sat down on a bench, found a wireless connection, and banged out a letter. My mom asked what I was doing, and I explained about the climate letters — which she knew already — and described the one I'd just written (a 150-word indictment of crony capitalism's readiness to exploit our addiction to oil, if I recall correctly).
She looked hard at me and said, "That must make you terribly sad all the time."
And I said, "Yes, it does."
My wife knows it, my daughter knows it, my mom knows it. And we may be doomed as a species, but if I'm going to fight against it, I have to have enough joy in me to keep me going, and I feel it ebbing these days. So it's time for me to stop, and find a form of climate activism that doesn't exacerbate my Climate Melancholy so much. By the end of this year I will have written one thousand, four hundred and sixty-one letters. That's a lot, isn't it?
Of course I'll write more if I feel like it — but after December's end, if I don't feel like it, I won't.
I feel better already. Because I have new projects on the horizon, and I am dreaming of ways to get more people involved. Nobody should have to face this stuff alone.
That's all, dear ones.
Love,
WarrenS
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO