What did you think of Emily’s friend Luz and how the author wrote about that relationship? In reading about different kinds of climate refugees, has it changed how you think about and prepare for the future? If you have done any kind of emergency or natural disaster preparation, what is it and how has it helped? Last year in book club we read THE SURVIVALISTS, which took disaster prep to a dangerous level. What has kept you grounded as you think about and prepare for bad things that can happen? What motivates you to do this work and how do you avoid climate change fatalism?
We're living in an eternal emergency right now. I continue to protect myself against the Covid pandemic, which rages on, by masking, vaxing, using HEPA air filters (2 portable for those oh-so-fun unmasked medical appointments, 2 for the apartment), ordering rather than buying in a store or a restaurant when I can, testing when I have been exposed, and, basically, avoiding any superspreader events (no Eras tour for me) . I financially support mask blocs and groups and businesses that take air quality and masking seriously, and I call my legislators to support things like Bernie's Long Covid moonshot, and I regularly petition the CDC to stop listening to Delta airlines when writing their quarantine rules.
What motivates me? Covid killed my godfather. Covid impaired my mother. Long Covid, which has no cure, continues to disable more and more people. This is a disability issue, this is a tool of genocide (what do you think is happening to folks in Gaza), this is an illness that strikes hardest at the usual victims, including the poor, people of color, and queer folks.
This dystopia is now. I don't have to prepare for it. It's here.
I’m a professional tree hugger because I am a science teacher. The science is very very clear. I had the first home I ever bought on my own, post divorce, ruined by hurricane Ian. It’s all back together now, but I may never recover financially, especially not with homeowners insurance up 40 percent in Florida. I am fighting fatalism because the kids really do care but I need legislators to care as much as students. I am moving very far away from the water that has restored me my whole life the second my boys are out of college. I live in Fort Myers so if it isn’t hurricanes it’s blue green algae or red tide. It just wears on you day in and day out feeling like you’re the only one who cares.
I’ve come to be more appreciative of my partner and his intense need to be prepared. Ever since he was stuck on an iced over bridge in the snow for 14 hours he has had a go bag for the car and a go box for the house if we lose power and so on.
That started at least 15 years ago and he has added slowly to those collections for us to feel more capable of managing the needs that might come up “just in case” as we continue to consider what it means to grapple with existential threats.
This was a very interesting chapter. I loved it! I live in Florida where a lot of people recently lost their access to home insurance after a few major hurricanes caused damages that nearly bankrupted the providers. I've wondered about RV living myself a few times. It seems like a nice solution for Luz, but there are problems. I've known more than one person in Florida to have their camper wrecked by bears. I also wonder what would happen to a camper in a storm with high winds. Luz has traded one problem for a host of others, but maybe she feels like she has less on the line now. I suppose all any of us can do is attempt to mitigate the losses in the escalating climate crisis.
In the writing: I thought it was beautiful that this essay began with path imagery and questions (Luz’s), then ended with path imagery and Emily’s big question about existential threats+living.
We're living in an eternal emergency right now. I continue to protect myself against the Covid pandemic, which rages on, by masking, vaxing, using HEPA air filters (2 portable for those oh-so-fun unmasked medical appointments, 2 for the apartment), ordering rather than buying in a store or a restaurant when I can, testing when I have been exposed, and, basically, avoiding any superspreader events (no Eras tour for me) . I financially support mask blocs and groups and businesses that take air quality and masking seriously, and I call my legislators to support things like Bernie's Long Covid moonshot, and I regularly petition the CDC to stop listening to Delta airlines when writing their quarantine rules.
What motivates me? Covid killed my godfather. Covid impaired my mother. Long Covid, which has no cure, continues to disable more and more people. This is a disability issue, this is a tool of genocide (what do you think is happening to folks in Gaza), this is an illness that strikes hardest at the usual victims, including the poor, people of color, and queer folks.
This dystopia is now. I don't have to prepare for it. It's here.
I’m a professional tree hugger because I am a science teacher. The science is very very clear. I had the first home I ever bought on my own, post divorce, ruined by hurricane Ian. It’s all back together now, but I may never recover financially, especially not with homeowners insurance up 40 percent in Florida. I am fighting fatalism because the kids really do care but I need legislators to care as much as students. I am moving very far away from the water that has restored me my whole life the second my boys are out of college. I live in Fort Myers so if it isn’t hurricanes it’s blue green algae or red tide. It just wears on you day in and day out feeling like you’re the only one who cares.
//What motivates you to do this work and how do you avoid climate change fatalism?//⬇️
My answer to this question is a question— a question that’s also my favorite quote from the essay on p 125.
“What if an existential threat, so long as it doesn’t kill you, is an invitation to really live?”
It’s grounding, curious, and empowering. I’m keeping it with me for low moments.
I’ve come to be more appreciative of my partner and his intense need to be prepared. Ever since he was stuck on an iced over bridge in the snow for 14 hours he has had a go bag for the car and a go box for the house if we lose power and so on.
That started at least 15 years ago and he has added slowly to those collections for us to feel more capable of managing the needs that might come up “just in case” as we continue to consider what it means to grapple with existential threats.
This was a very interesting chapter. I loved it! I live in Florida where a lot of people recently lost their access to home insurance after a few major hurricanes caused damages that nearly bankrupted the providers. I've wondered about RV living myself a few times. It seems like a nice solution for Luz, but there are problems. I've known more than one person in Florida to have their camper wrecked by bears. I also wonder what would happen to a camper in a storm with high winds. Luz has traded one problem for a host of others, but maybe she feels like she has less on the line now. I suppose all any of us can do is attempt to mitigate the losses in the escalating climate crisis.
In the writing: I thought it was beautiful that this essay began with path imagery and questions (Luz’s), then ended with path imagery and Emily’s big question about existential threats+living.
The
I’m