red sun
typical sunset
April 2016
This past summer I worked at a summer camp as a challenge course facilitator. When asked to write about my personal experience with climate change, I recalled this reoccurring thought about a particularly gloomy week I had while I was there.
If I just got up and made some sort of a statement on behalf of the camp, what would I even say? Who do I even talk to find out what’s happening. We’re responsible for 500 campers. And the typical yellow sun we see everyday is tinted red, the whole sky is brown-grey in color and smells of ash. Do the directors down in Seattle know what’s happening here? Do they care? Do they know what to say? Washington is on fire. Trees I’ve grown up driving around are on fire. My family can’t breathe, because of the fire right outside their back window. Is zip-lining 500 campers really my top priority right now? Is delivering the “perfect camp experience” whilst the craziness among us really still the deal? What if they have asthma? The smoke can’t possibly. . . Is there protocol for this?
What if it gets worse?
Should I say something?
Or should I say quiet and pretend its okay?
I don’t think it’s okay.
But… I don’t know what else to do.
May 2016
I still don’t know what to do.
But that’s okay.
I’ll just do what I can.
I’ll do the best I can with what I’ve got and hope for the best.