In ten years, I’ll not even be middle-aged yet, so my mid-life crisis can’t even coincide with major crises of the earth.
What stability can I have with the convulsing of the earth becoming progressively worse? What sort of calm or peace would I be able to establish in my home when just outside the walls would be pain and sorrow tenfold from what now exists? Until that day I would be crying out of grief with the suffering of others, my walls torn down, too.
I love my family, but the mere thought of bearing my own children racks me with guilt. To offer some perspective, I have a great fear for the youngest person I know and closest to me -- my seven-year-old brother. He doesn’t know that the year he graduates from high school, in 2032, the world will see the heightened repercussions of our abuse. He cannot fathom that the news will be filled with compounded natural disasters, the economic, environmental, and mortality effects of which will result in numbers he cannot currently comprehend.
But I know. And I am terrified. This is not the life anyone wishes for a loved one.
Floods, hurricanes, droughts and other natural disasters have been around forever and now there is scientifically led proof they are worsening due to human-inflicted climate change. Day after day, the structure of Pandora’s box is being tested; finding a way into its lock are keys forged from the aftermath of our wasteful lifestyle. Who would want to open it? Those without foresight or imagination. Those who won’t live to see the day of inconceivable damage.
Lately, I have been taking in my surroundings a lot more. I feel the need to memorize my surroundings so if I live to be a wise neighborly elder, I can tell fantastical stories. “Once upon a time, when a nearby lake was safe enough to swim in, when little boys and girls could eat what they fished, when folks could drink straight out of the tap. Oh yes, because the poisons in the water were nothing as close to what we have now. And, there were great black and white bears that ate sticks called bamboo. Panda is a funny name isn’t it?”
I am not ready for the silence, the ever shortening periods of calm before the storms. The fear I have for my brother also extends to me. I have always known that I will be proud of my future self, but why must I also be scared for her?
People who are going to be most affected are those who make up marginalized populations. This is why I believe putting a price on carbon is an efficient way to ensure the wellbeing of the earth, including underprivileged peoples, making them part of the conversation. Monetizing carbon will allow the system to reward environmentally friendly actions, which will, in turn, steer us away from a fearsome future.
Reading the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change report is nightmarish. The report points to devastating outcomes that I’d rather not let come true. But we still have time. And I’d rather be useful and engaged than turning a blind eye to my own flesh and blood.
Asli Ali attends Smith College in Northampton studying environmental science. She recently lobbied Congressman Richard E. Neal’s office with the Citizens Climate Lobby, a group urging a price on carbon. Her family home is in Longmeadow.