It’s been a rough year for a climate warrior. Every day, something new to set us back. So many steps backward that I’ve gone into a surreal denial, shuttling the bad news to some dark corner of my psyche.
Just when I thought we were making tracks. Every time I stretch, I discover there’s more stretch to go. It’s one thing to swallow my pride and listen attentively to people I don’t expect to agree with.
Driving through Beverly Hills yesterday, a large metal sculpture on the median strip caught my eye. From several blocks away, it looked to be a perfect red circle mounted against a white backdrop.
Imagine. It’s July 4, 1776. You live in Philadelphia. You’re twenty-five. You hang with Betsy Ross, who is 24, Alex Hamilton, 21 and Tom Jefferson, 33. It’s an exciting time, it’s a wild ride. You have a vision for a new form of government. Like Abe would later say—of the people, by the people and for the people.
It takes courage to run for Congress—especially now. You couldn’t pay me to do it. But I’m on the team that is lifting people of character onto a bigger stage. I’m part of the village that is raising the bar. I’m discovering that courage can be contagious.