Yesterday, I caught a glimpse of what it takes to power the
American way of life. I think, judging by this sign we encountered, you can
tell it wasn’t pretty.
We did a poor job of following the sign's instructions. Sorry not sorry.
During our first day out of Denver, a 15.5 mile trip to
Prairie View High School, we passed through Suncor Energy and the industrial
park in which it is housed. Suncor’s name is deceiving; it actually has nothing
to do with sunlight. Suncor is a tar sands oil refining company, the same stuff
that would be pumped through the KXL Pipeline if built, and the same stuff that
is destroying Alberta, Canada via the extraction process.
When we arrived at Suncor’s main office building, 4.8 miles
into our walk, we staged a small performance. We were all wearing surgical
masks over our faces, and my fellow marcher, Berenice, started to cough. Saying
that she couldn’t breathe, she went to take her mask off, and everyone yelled:
“No, Berenice, no! The air is polluted! Keep your mask on!”
But she took it off and coughed harder, and then
collapsed to the ground and “died.” Someone held a sign over her that said
“Suncor-pse,” and we all grieved around her. This all took place on the lawn in
front of Suncor’s company sign.
We carried Berenice to the cemetery across the street and
laid her to rest in front of a tombstone, and I gave eulogy for her.
“Here lies Berenice Tompkins, dead from pollution from tar
sands oil refineries like Suncor. She breathed the air and it killed her. What
world are we living in where we have no clean air? Let Berenice’s death be a
reminder to all of us of those who have been silenced, sickened, and killed by
air pollution, and other forms of pollution that come from the oil and gas
industry. Rest in peace, Berenice, you beautiful martyr.”
While we were in the cemetery, Suncor security arrived to
shoo us off their lawn. After we were done with our performance, we proceeded
to walk down the road into the belly of the industrial park, with Suncor
security trailing us the entire way.
This is about where security stopped following us. I was able to get a good selfie in without them hounding us.
This picture does not capture the sheer size of the industrial park.
At one point, I found a crack in the Suncor fence and stuck
my Go Pro camera through it. A few moments later, the Suncor security announced
over a loudspeaker:
“Step away from the fence, step away from the fence.”
It was a very tense, somewhat frightening situation to be
in, and the air quality was horrific. Every breath brought unwanted, rancid
fumes from the factory emissions into our lungs. I was encouraged, however, by
the Suncor employees who drove by us honking their horns, waving excitedly,
their big smiles showing they were happy to see us.
The whole time we marched through the industrial wasteland
with somber faces, all I could think was “this is America.” This is how we
support our privileged way of life – by decimating the land and filling the air
with smog. One of the images of the day that will forever be burned into my
mind is a skinny fox with a limp meandering through the park, looking lost and
confused.
Note the American flag flying high over the industrial wasteland.
Whenever you plug something into your wall at home, how
often do you think about where the energy from that socket is coming from? Now
that I have been using a solar charger for several weeks, I am extremely aware
of my energy sources. When I stay with local families, I consciously think
about that when I use the sockets in their houses.
And to take that a step further, how often when you go to
the grocery store do you think about where your products came from and how they
were made? Is it not frightening that some kids nowadays believe that apples
come from stores, not trees? We have reached a point now where we rely on
stores to meet our needs. It’s an automatic, mindless process. You run out of
something, you go to the store, you buy more, you consume it, rinse and repeat.
Everything is disposable and sentimental value is rare. We are losing our
personal connection with our possessions. It’s hard to care for something we
see as replaceable.
Being on the march has strengthened my relationship with my
possessions and helped me to realize which ones are essential and which ones
are luxury. Hand-washing your clothes may not sound like a fun way to spend
your time, but I have a greater appreciation for my clothes now, as well as a stronger
desire to preserve them. I have spent hours with my clothes, scrubbing out the
dirt from days of walking and hanging them one by one on a line to dry, only to
return a couple hours later to take them down and fold them. What was an hour
and a half process with washing and drying machines is now a four to five hour
process that requires my care and attention.
Hand-washing in Fort Garland, CO
As someone who used to constantly lose track of her things,
I am now hyper aware of my items and where they are located, and if something
is amiss I notice it almost immediately. This is because I need each of the
things I have on an almost daily basis and I have few opportunities to replace
them. And some things I have simply can’t be replaced — such as the walking
stick my father gifted me before leaving and my stuffed dog I’ve had since I
was eight. If I lose them, they’re gone forever.
I am happier now living in a tent and having one duffel bag
full of things than I have ever been. I have less stuff to stress out about and
I care more deeply for the things I have.
As soon as I have sufficient internet connection, I will be uploading the footage I captured of our journey through Suncor's property. The world needs to see these industries from the inside.
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