Earthquake II

Just about a year ago, I wrote an essay using earthquakes as a metaphor for “danger that you can’t avoid, can’t really change and can’t even influence.” At the time it was just a metaphor, but now, of course, it’s real. Japan, our first world neighbor and buddy – practically a family member, since it’s hard to even buy a reliable car if Japan isn’t able to manufacture them – is on the verge of melting down in multiple ways, except, of course, for how the traumatized but stalwart, creative and heroic Japanese people are caring for each other under conditions that would make most of us just curl up in a ball under the bed, if we still had a bed.

I belong to a working support group of people who are bent on making the world a better place. Among them are writers, a photographer, a manager and business wizard, a web designer, a graphic designer, a conservationist, a master gardener, a publisher, an information technology guru, a psychologist, an opera singer and several Trekkies. And there are only five of us, so this tells you something about how high-powered this group is. The problem with us high-powered people who want to change the world is that we tend to take on problems that are beyond us. Those of you who have been with my blog for awhile know that I at least won’t be truly happy until the planet is saved, with its species, oceans, atmosphere, peoples, cultures, and oh yes, the attributes of human empathy and love, still intact and healthy.

Maybe a bit too much for me to take on. But at least I’m being consistent. At the last meeting, the facilitator asked me what my goals were for the next ten weeks. I replied that I wanted to finish a book revision, get a new website up and operating, get my book published in hard copy and e-book form and launched. There was a long silence, I remember. The publisher in the room remarked gently that even if I had a contract, with a marketing department, editor, and layout people, that the turnaround was a bit tight. And that January might be a more reasonable target.

Really?

One of our members is spending most of her waking hours attempting to save the elephants of Chad. Elephants are highly intelligent, have complex and empathetic social orders, and are being slaughtered for their tusks. (It makes me think of killing Grandma for her teeth, although if there were a profit in it and the kids were poor and desperate enough, Grandma might wish she didn’t have any teeth.) The ivory is sold to China. This situation is dire and urgent. If the poaching isn’t stopped, there will be no more elephants in Chad. My friend is doing her best to garner 50,000 signatures for a petition to present to the Chinese government, asking them to outlaw the purchase of ivory. Unfortunately, Chad is now being visited by the fury of genocide and the threat of a complete collapse of its government and infrastructure, and no one really has time to worry about the elephants. (Well, and it is hard to concentrate, what with that flap with Charlie Sheen and all. Besides, we have Japan and Libya to worry about – and what about the housing market and the cuts to state budgets and our leaders who would rather try to take each other down than govern, and checking our Facebook, tweets, texts and e-mail every five minutes? For those of us with a bit more of a long-term memory, there are the headlines receding into the past, like the Haiti earthquake, the Indonesian tsunami, New Orleans – the headlines recede, but the tragedies don’t).

So my colleague is out there with her shoulder to the wheel, writing, networking, strategizing, educating – tired, frustrated, and soul-sick about this heart-breaking problem. And there really isn’t much of a chance that she will be able to shut down the Chinese market for ivory.

Should she stop trying?

My husband and I have one car, an older model Toyota that gets 50 miles per gallon, and we try not to drive it much. We and our grown children live in a 1500 square foot house with one bathroom, a great garden, photovoltaics on the roof, good neighbors, and which is within walking distance of good transit and about every amenity you could need. We live this way by choice, because if living this way ever became really popular, it would make a difference in how many greenhouse gasses were emitted into the atmosphere, how much petroleum we as a nation needed to extract from Alaska, the Gulf and politically unsavory but oil-rich countries, and how many sweatshops we have to patronize.

Do we really think we’re making a big difference in the world?

No. Well, some. Some of our friends notice what we’ve been up to. Some think we’re crazy, most think we’re harmless, a few have been inspired to try a few changes themselves. Our kids have been raised to always think about the difference between wanting and needing, and about how to leave some for the other guy.

But I can do the math. I know that really, I am not making any measurable impact on the world at all. My lonely shoulder can’t bend the arc of history by itself. I have to face that fact daily, or not.

Wise people have been writing for thousands of years about how to deal with problems bigger than one person, and here is some of their wisdom, paraphrased for my refrigerator:

Let your own hands be clean.

The fact that a problem can’t be resolved by you alone does not relieve you of the responsibility of working at its resolution.

All great problems that are worthy of attention are bigger than one person. Do your part as long as you can, and know that there are others. And that more work will happen after you’re gone.

And here’s one of my favorites. I like to think I made it up, but I think that really I got it from JRR Tolkien’s wonderful creation, Sam Gamgee –

Keep your spirits up.

And stick together.


If you would like to learn more about the movement to save the elephants of Chad, click here. To sign the petition, click here.