Even though the environment is sad, we still have to be grateful
Photo: Peter Miller
Becoming an environmentalist can be difficult. Frankly speaking, sometimes I just want to curl up in a ball and cry.
I see the world more and more through environmental damage and growing anxiety. The more I learn, the harder it is to ignore the facts. Things I never thought about, now worry me.
Take Thanksgiving as an example. On the Wednesday before the holiday, my sister and I had a pleasant conversation. We talked about Thanksgiving plans and the upcoming holiday wish list.
But, at the same time, my brain is dealing with environmental narratives such as unsustainable agricultural practices, groceries sold in plastic packaging, leftovers divided into disposable plastic containers, food waste, and mileage driven without considering carbon offsets. Fight.
I think of holiday consumerism, and I worry that it will be taken to new heights this year due to actual and perceived supply chain shortages. I thought of the mountain of garbage generated by packaging and over-packing after the holiday. I once reveled in the happiness of a bright package with a perfect bow, but now it is difficult for me to find that happiness within the spirit of my environment.
My sister’s conversation also drifted into the environment.We lament the recent challenges COP 26 meeting I gushed about a lot of statistics that I learned while preparing for my recent school assignments: 5 million tons of American medical waste each year; 8 million tons of plastic waste generated by the global pandemic; 25,000 tons are already in the ocean. This is both overwhelming and frustrating.
When I hung up the phone, I thought of the “stubborn optimism” advocated by Christiana Figueres, the former executive secretary of the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change that contributed to the 2015 Paris Climate Agreement.Figueres described stubborn optimism as “a relentless commitment [and] The firm determination to move forward courageously anyway. “This is the choice we need to make as we work to stop climate change. Failure to do so will only mean giving up.
But in dark moments when I feel overwhelmed, I sometimes wonder if it’s worth it. Isn’t it easier to float in the torrent of ignorance and consumerism than to struggle in the tide of deteriorating environmental conditions?
These moments and these thoughts will not make me proud, but it is dishonest to pretend that they do not exist. In fact, this is unfair to me and others who have experienced similar despair. Our grief for the environment is real and needs to be acknowledged.
However, sadness cannot be the space of our lives; I believe that each of us must find our own version of stubborn optimism. It may not always come from the same place, but we must find it.
This time, I found my optimism on Thanksgiving. I went for a walk. The air is fresh and sunny. When preparing for a family banquet, I occasionally smell the salty taste from the kitchen. The holly trees bear bright red berries, the autumn leaves are blazing maple trees, and there are huge oak trees, and the towering silent sentry gently sways in the breeze.
I couldn’t help feeling the fun of family gatherings and was attracted by the awe of another transitional season of deciduous leaves. It was a moment of gratitude for me; thank you for witnessing the warmth of the community and the miracle of this incredible home that we call the earth.
Although indifference sometimes seems to be an easier option, it is really not an option. This is not who I am; this is not what motivates me to move forward. Ignoring the beauty around me is harder than trying to protect it. Although a lot has been lost, there is still a lot to save. Nature has a way to remind me of the hope I was born with. For this, I am always grateful.
Colleen M. Fitzpatrick is a doctor of medicine and a student of the Master of Public Administration Administration program at Columbia University School of International and Public Affairs.
