When the worst consequences of climate change still feel far away today, or the barriers to acting on climate change seem steep today, I do not think about today. I think about you, and your world when you are my age.

I don’t know your name
or even if you’re alive,
but I’m doing all I can
to make sure you survive.

I’m your great- great grandmother
who lived a century ago
in a world far different
from the one you must know.

Que vocês possam contar para seus filhos e netos que minha geração tomou consciência de sua responsabilidade e assumiu sua condição de natureza e a ela se reintegrou, com inteligência, interação respeitosa e solidariedade.

I am so sorry we didn’t realize this predicament sooner.

And, if this summer has taught me anything, I am content (because I have to be) living in this limbo, this seemingly endless waiting for the opportunity to change, when really the opportunity exists within our very selves all along.

Right now you are only a little over 5 weeks old, but you have truly changed my whole world. Your Mom and I always say that we thought we loved before you were born, but now that you have come into the world and we met you, our ability to love just expanded exponentially.

To think that my choices of sustainable commuting, eating a plant based diet, and working on our City’s zero waste program likely pale in comparison to the impact of not having a baby is nothing short of devastating.  Does it make me a bad environmentalist to honor my maternal instincts?

This is just the beginning. It’s the accrual of little seeds of change that will lead to the tree of revolution.