And, Why, again?

The summer I was 16 (1970), my mother and I took a course from Rutgers University titled “Pollution and Global Warming”. We had both read Rachel Carson’s breakout book, Silent Spring and wanted to know more. It was an intensive class, designed to make citizen scientists/environmentalists of the students. And it succeeded. From then on, my mom and I were bonded over environmental issues: we joined hands on the first Earth Day in NYC, marched in several environmental protests.

The day before my mother died in 2009, we spoke on the phone for over an hour. (She was in the hospital in NJ, expecting to discharge home the next day; I was in Bayfield, planning to fly there soon to help her out. Instead I flew out to scatter her ashes in the Atlantic with my sister). Our conversation revolved around the possible drawbacks to solar energy. She had read about the harm in processing silicon and thought it might be too toxic. Alan and I were just starting to build our first solar array at our house and very gung-ho. Typically, my mom and I got a bit heated in our opinions. At the end of the call, she reminded me that, in spite of her concerns, there need to be risk-takers (what we now call early adopters) and that she was proud that I was at least trying to make a difference. That meant a lot to me.

I think of that conversation. A lot of what Alan and I do is based on trying to make a positive difference. To live in such a way that moves others to see that it is possible to live a less “earth-expensive”, or maybe a more “earth-friendly” life, and still enjoy that life to the fullest. It’s been my passion since that class in 1970. I thank my mother for that.