When I was in Ohio and I called my dad to tell him I was coming home
from the Climate March early, I was in a state of both sadness and
disbelief. I couldn't believe that Houston-based Crestwood Midstream had
received federal approval to store methane in salt caverns along Seneca
Lake, my home, and I did not want to leave my March family. He assured
me I was doing the right thing.
"You'll still be fighting the same fight."
Seneca Lake
I
know he's right, but it's hard to believe that it is the same fight.
The type of work and the mood of the situation here at home is entirely
different from the Climate March. The March is addressing the broader
issue of climate change, which encompasses gas storage on Seneca Lake
along with hundreds of other projects around the country and the world.
Our primary activity is walking and experiencing our world and the
stories of the people living in it. It is our responsibility to bring
the concerns, questions, hopes, dreams and prayers of the American
citizenry to President Obama's doorstep. We live in community, and we
are constantly surrounded by love and friendship.
Back here in
Upstate New York, the story is much different. Although I am making many
new friends (none of them my age) and finding a place in a new
community of inspiring people, the tone is more focused and serious.
While the Climate March is mostly an awareness-raising, mind-awakening
crusade across the country, the fight to save Seneca Lake is exactly
that; a fight. A battle. We are waging a weaponless war.
