Buying In

Alex Williams' article in today's New York Times, "Buying Into the Green Movement" does an excellent job of describing a phenomenon (or should I say trend) of the "light green" movement. That is to say, a pervasive trend of heavy, "green" consumerism. I especially love the fact that the author points out how absurd it is to have raspberries in the winter at Whole Foods!

It’s as though the millions of people whom environmentalists have successfully prodded to be concerned about climate change are experiencing a SnackWell’s moment: confronted with a box of fat-free devil’s food chocolate cookies, which seem deliciously guilt-free, they consume the entire box, avoiding any fats but loading up on calories. -Alex Williams

A Hot Squabble (And Getting Warmer)

As it's been awhile since I posted, I think that this priceless confrontation is a good way to get the blog-ball rolling.

A Post-Valentine’s Reflection

By Sarah Werthan Buttenwieser

Winter, in Northampton, Massachusetts, really started on Valentine’s morning with a snowy, sleety dump. That same morning, a man dropped off an arrangement of flowers just inside our mudroom door. Now, this is not an unexpected occurrence on this particular day, especially given that my dear husband is out of town for work. So, I stepped into the mudroom and bent down to pick up the flowers. What was unexpected was the background noise. My kids were protesting, quite loudly: “Don’t touch that! We don’t know that man! What if it’s a bomb?”

It took many assurances from me—papa always sends flowers on Valentine’s Day if he’s gone, we get flowers there all the time, Harrison’s mom works at that store and probably made the arrangement—to quell their fears. For just a moment after the scare, they did literally stop and smell the roses.

What ran through my mind was this: the incalculably high number of hidden costs exacted by this so-called “War on Terror.” I felt like shaking a hand toward those who have lead the charge to twist horrific acts of violence on 9-11 into a larger conspiracy that has wrought so much more bloodshed and violence and fear than those who dreamed up the hijack suicide missions could ever have imagined possible. Some observers now deem civil war too simplistic and even too mild a term to describe the seemingly intractable violence in Iraq (and beyond). From the reality on the ground to the palpable sense of unease experienced by those at a very, very far remove from any actual violence, assurances from our leaders that our actions are rendering the world a safer place—for Iraqi or American citizens—seem nothing short of magical thinking, and that’s a generous interpretation.

Meantime, by Cupid’s big day, smack in the middle of February, the sun was already shining longer—on sunny days—and in so doing, nudging our minds toward spring. Winter barely began at the point we often first believe it’ll soon be over. The recent report issued by the United Nations’ International Panel on Climate Change constitutes as definitive a declaration as scientists ever make that the earth is
warming and that humans are responsible for this detrimental development. Their urging that we humans reform our habits and reprioritize so that we save our species and other species and the planet could not be more clearly exhorted or more simply put. If we wanted something to fear, we’ve got it. And yet, without bloodshed, we
can—as many already are—start to repair these wrongs, and thus slowly allay these fears.

My middle son, Lucien, sees the connection clearly: saving the environment and peace do go together, hand-in-hand. He often draws posters about saving the earth. If not invariably then frequently a peace sign or a phrase about stopping the war makes its way to the same page. His desires for a clean earth and a friendly one are rooted in
love. He’s funny and warm and eager to relish what is good in this world. Although he thinks, more than most eight-year-olds perhaps, about the world’s hardships, such as war or poverty or pollution, what’s clear when he’s drawing is that hope trumps fear. His desire to make change comes from the simple fact that he trusts most people are
good and want the best for each other. Save for potential bombs, that is. Certainly, when I experience my own waves of fear—about the terrible toll of war or degradation to our planet—I try to remember that hope is more durable than fear and if love doesn’t quite conquer all, it certainly conquers much more than hate or revenge ever could.

Moving Forward and Giving Back (A More Convenient Truth)

By Ilana Panich-Linsman

I spent May to August adjusting and readjusting my bum on my bicycle seat. My friend Colin and I went on a grueling cross-country journey from the Atlantic to the Pacific, on bicycle, raising money for Hurricane Katrina victims.

My decision to make the trip evolved gradually. At first, I was part of a crew, not biking, but documenting through photography what was sure to be an adventure of a lifetime. Then I realized that I could probably do it.

In the months leading up to our departure, all of my energy, time, and money was spent preparing for the trip. There was the fundraising. There was the promotion. I had to find the right bike(s) at the right price. We had to get all the right camping equipment. My local REI
practically knew my name when I walked in the door. We made countless lists: things we had to do/buy/plan/map. And, after my daily hours were logged planning, I had to go to the gym and train. My daily life was consumed with preparation. I felt exhausted but excited.

The trip began and we hurt and we whined and we rubbed cream on our butts and took ibuprofen by the bottle. I kept thinking (because there's not much else to do when you're on a bike for 8-12 hours a day) about my reasons for biking all these miles. I wanted to make a
difference in the lives of people who lost homes, dignity, and families during Hurricane Katrina. I wanted to accomplish something for myself. I wanted to document just how wonderful/interesting/beautiful/unique/sad this country and this trip were.

In Missoula, Montana we took two days off to cool our heels, eat sushi and see a movie.

"I heard this was good," Colin, my partner in crime said, pointing to the movie theater marquee. I had never heard of “An Inconvenient Truth.” Actually, I was surprised Colin had heard of it — considering we had been limited to only each other's company for weeks.

We sat in the theater, enjoying our respite from the heat and our few moments without the responsibility of our bikes and our belongings. (bikes were locked outside the theater and our belongings awaiting us at our campsite) We watched intently as Al Gore clearly and plainly explained not only global warming, but also, inadvertently, the purpose of our trip.

You see, never before Missoula had I considered why the trip seemed the right thing to do. I knew about global warming (well, I knew it was happening — somewhere out there). I knew about Katrina and I knew that by making myself extremely uncomfortable for an entire
summer I was somehow doing something good for the world and myself. But I hadn’t put the pieces together.

Al Gore pulled all the aspects of our trip together into one neat package. Our trip was symbolic. It was a symbol of the solidarity we felt with our fellow Americans who were victims not just of a natural disaster, but also of our government. The trip was a symbol of our personal futures, and the future of our nation. After all, as Mr. Gore explains, if not for global warming caused by the world's pollution, Hurricane Katrina may not have been quite so devastating.

We traveled East to West, just as our forefathers and foremothers did hundreds of years ago. We literally saw what western expansion looked like. We saw the land of this truly beautiful country rich with history. We saw that this same land, once home to Native Americans, was now paved over and clogged with thousands of RVs. These were the RVs that nearly ran us off roads, and the very same RVs that contribute to global warming.

We were taking a stand against global warming and for the first time I knew why that was important. And when people asked Why Bikes, instead of saying Why Not? I could tell them how biking positively changes the world. Even if just a tiny bit.

It was a sad trip in many ways. We saw how the country's lack of protection for its land and its people have caused overdevelopment, the worst excesses of corporate America, poverty, and sadness. But we also saw a land rich with people who encouraged us on our journey and
literally picked us up if we were down.

We learned that each of us determines our future relationship with the earth. It is up to us to inform ourselves, and others, about the human footprint on this earth.

With our bikes beneath us, and our bums only slightly more comfortable, we pedaled to the future: a place where we might save our mother earth by joining the crew that will lead to sustainable energy. Moved by the generous humanity I saw on this trip, I am inspired to help others when they’re down.

Go Further

By Ilana Panich-Linsman

The film Go Further (2003 Sphinx Productions) by Ron Mann chronicles Woody Harrelson and an assortment of friends as they bicycle from Seattle to Los Angeles followed by a bio-fueled bus. Harrelson and company hope to inspire action and dialogue about sustainable living. The film is not only inspirational but humorous and appealing, with some brilliant musical performances.

The principal travelers (on bicycle or in the bus) include Harrelson himself (who speaks at colleges along the way), a yoga instructor, a vegan chef, an environmental activist and Steve, a self-described junk-food addict who eventually jumps on the bio-fueled bus and adopts the mantra, "Say no to corn dogs!" by the time the film ends.

Harrelson and his posse cycle eight hours a day, do yoga, and eat raw food as they travel down the Pacific coast speaking with students, organic farmers, solar energy experts and others. In one snippet of Harrelson's college lectures, the actor explains, "The most significant thing you can do for your environment? Look at your diet and demand organic."

The crew meets Anuradha Mittal, co-director of an organic farmers' market, Food First. "We live in a country where we've been told freedom really means having the choice of choosing between twenty different kinds of toothpaste," she says. "We have not been told that freedom really is knowing what we're eating, what is in a food, is it safe for us to eat."

This film was inspirational to me. I will be evermore conscious of my personal consumption habits, and eager to get the word out about our options in combating global warming. I sense that with the recent turnover in Congress, environmental activists throughout the country have the opportunity to speak out and educate now more than ever. U.S. citizens now face the responsibility of generating answers to questions surrounding the global warming crisis.

I don’t think perfection is the goal here. Individuals, though, can make an attempt to make better decisions regarding their personal environmental footprint. Whether this means recycling, buying locally grown food, switching off a few lights, unplugging some appliances or educating ourselves and our friends by seeing documentaries like Go Further or An Inconvenient Truth (which takes a more scientific look at the causes and effects of global warming). We can all do little things, the sum of which will amount to significant results.

Remember: Just say no to corndogs.

For more information about Go Further:
Sphinx Productions: Go Further

For more information about how you can take action against global warming:
Take Action