The Heat Doesn’t Care: Mothers join the fight against climate change
This past weekend, I attended an Extreme Weather Survivors (EWS) webinar. I never wanted to be part of this group, but the “club” is only growing. During the webinar, I felt inspired as I listened to Aidan Goldberg read an excerpt from an essay he wrote about his intense experience with the climate crisis. Aidan is 20, majoring in English and History at the University of Virginia. He’s also a volunteer with the Moms Clean Air Force. His essay highlights one of the more invisible and less glamorous issues of the climate crisis: extreme heat.
The optics of hurricanes, wildfires and floods are impossible to ignore, but heat is harder to see. I look at our impossibly blue and sunny skies here in Southern California and wonder how long it will take for more people to rebel against our unchecked use of fossil fuels, the main drivers of pollution and global warming. Now that the EPA has been gutted, things will only worsen. Do the CEOs of these oil and gas companies not have children and grandchildren? We are not only being overwhelmed by fossil fuels but also by widespread ignorance and denial. It reminds me of one of my favorite quotes: “If stupid were fuel, we would never run out.” — Karen Joy Fowler from her novel, “We are all completely beside ourselves.”
Meanwhile, similar to Mothers Against Drunk Driving (MADD), Moms Clean Air Force (MCAF) has a lot of work ahead. Clearly, being a mom isn’t required to join, since Aidan isn’t a mom but a caring brother. I asked Mr. Goldberg if I could share some of his essay, and he agreed; you can read the full version on the MCAF website at momscleanairforce.org/extreme-heat-is-a-predator.
“My brother used to run. This routine helped regulate him; a life full of uncertainties created by his Autism diagnosis needed structure. He’d spend the mornings racing up and down our block in central Tucson, Arizona, accompanied by his aide who matched his every stride. My brother came home loudly, covered in sweat and out of breath, walking by the thermometer outside our front door, whose red line never sank below triple digits. My mom would leave a glass of water on our dining room table, waiting to greet him when he returned. But one day, as the door opened, only his aide came through the door.
“‘Simon is in the hospital,’ his aide whispered, ‘he collapsed on the run.’
“They were prepared for their runs. He dutifully applied sunblock, pre-hydrated, and carried water. They did everything they were supposed to. The heat doesn’t care.
“Simon was rushed to the local hospital, where the emergency department, with a mix of adrenaline and their machines, managed to keep him tethered to life. He had multiple organ system failures. He suffered a stroke. He burned so severely that he needed skin grafts. Yet, I had to hear this all over the phone; I was not allowed in the hospital. Stuck at home, I paced along the cool concrete floor of our house, afraid to venture into the heat.
“In the coming months, he kept getting worse. On one sweltering August day, my parents told me we would transfer him to a hospice house, where we could live as a family as my brother passed with dignity, surrounded by family and friends. They said this would be a better passing. I wasn’t sure that any passing could be better. Instead, that evening, my brother’s eyes miraculously opened. He started to heal.
“Now, I’m in my second year of college. Simon’s a senior in high school. The heat has left its mark on all of us. Not just the scars, though he has those too. His skin graft healed, but the outlines remain, reminders etched into the flesh.
“We have changed how we live. We prepare to go to battle with the heat. We wear wide-brimmed hats, we carry absurdly large jugs of water, and we plan our clothes with strategy. We avoid the heat like a predator… because it is.
“Simon doesn’t run anymore. He doesn’t even work in the heat. Not ever. There’s always a risk that it could happen again. Another stroke. Another collapse. Another goodbye. My mother worries. Of course she does. She worries when any of us has to be outside for too long. The heat scares us. The heat should scare you, too, but it shouldn’t stop you. I’m learning how to channel my fear into action, advocating with Moms Clean Air Force to protect our climate, to protect kids like my brother. You can join us.”
March is Women’s History Month all month long! Moms Clean Air Force is a great reminder to celebrate the power and influence of women, especially moms. Whether it was the Suffrage movement, which secured women’s right to vote, or the Labor and Civil Rights movements, it was mostly mothers who drove significant progress in the U.S. and around the world. With this terrible administration, all these movements have faced serious setbacks, but “Nevertheless, she persisted!”
The poet and educator Marion C. Garrety said, “A mother’s love is the fuel that enables a normal human being to do the impossible.” Let’s hold hands and shoulder to shoulder face the seemingly impossible together.
If you’re interested in Ellen Snortland’s online creative writing class, email ellen@beautybitesbeast.com. There is still a much-needed GoFundMe to help Ellen and Ken recover from the devastating loss of their home and possessions. You can donate at bit.ly/Ellen-Ken.