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.”
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.
The little voice in my head returned, snarky and filled with accusation. ‘Step aside. Give someone else a chance. You’ve had your time.’ It was true—how delicious would it be to watch a twenty-something step up to the plate!
I’m resigning. I don’t want to be a climate change warrior anymore. I’m inclined to blame my change of heart on my sister’s death. It would be easy enough to do.