My partner, a conservative African-American Evangelical Baptist pastor from Kansas said to me, “There is a misperception that Republicans don’t care about the environment. That isn’t true.”
I’m a compassionate, open, empathetic human being, committed to working for a world that works for everyone.
STOP! I call bullshit. Something smells a little fishy.
The truth is, I’m only compassionate, open and empathetic if you vote the way I vote.
Several years ago, a dear (white) friend told me that he was exploring his own racist thoughts, beliefs and actions. I waved him away—‘that’s great, not really my cause, so glad you’re doing it.’ I used the word Cause, as though human beings were some kind of project to be assembled or a banner to be waved.
In the midst of my climate despair, my sister was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. When she died three months later something inside me cracked. I was all grief. I couldn’t take another climate step.
I wanted to wrap that young girl in my arms, hold her tight against so much uncertainty and destruction. But there was nothing I could think to say to soothe her soul, nothing that wasn’t a lie.