“Rarely, if ever, are any of us healed in isolation. Healing is an act of communion”. 
-Bell Hooks, All About Love: New Visions

“We live in a world in which we need to share responsibility. It’s easy to say ‘It’s not my child, not my community, not my world, not my problem.’ Then there are those who see the need and respond. I consider those people my heroes.”
-“Mr” Fred Rogers, The World According to Mister Rogers: Important Things to Remember 

Sustainable Woodstock volunteers closing our King Farm Community Garden for the season. Jenevra Wetmore

The election is over, and the result is a disaster for our climate. Trump has promised to accelerate oil and gas drilling. The US is already failing to meet climate goals. Many more people will die from climate change. It is difficult to write this; I am 29 years old and I expect to witness so much suffering throughout my lifetime.

We should grieve what we have lost, and what we will lose in the coming years. This grieving is not giving up or ignoring reality–it is essential to creating change. Stop and rest. Breathe.

Then, dig your heels into the earth and begin the hard work ahead. Now is the time to invest in our communities in whatever way makes sense for your capacity and skill set.    Visions of running for office or joining protests are associated with making change. Those are great roads to take, but they aren’t the only ones. Our communities need people to join planning committees, energy committees, select boards, and school boards to make positive change. We need folks volunteering at food shelves and for local nonprofits–believe me, Sustainable Woodstock needs you to volunteer, as do other nonprofits in our area. Are you good with kids? Experienced in financial accounting and managing? Do you have a health care background or construction experience? Truly, all of these skills are needed locally. This challenging, on-the-ground, nitty gritty work is what creates real change in our communities.

In a slight twist on John F. Kennedy’s famous inaugural address, we might assert: don’t ask what your community can do for you, ask what you can do for your community. While it’s easy to think about what the community can offer you, it’s much more challenging to ask yourself what you can contribute to it. At its core, this question invites us to view ourselves as part of the community, rather than as a separate entity. It implies that we are all responsible for one another, not just for ourselves. It is a more demanding version of existing because it requires work from all of us, but it is a more satisfying way of existing.

The urge to build an apocalypse bunker might be tempting, but it is an act of pure fantasy. The idea that we might be able to avoid crisis without doing the hard work of community building is an illusion. Survival requires dependence on each other.  Instead of building a bunker, build something useful, like a ramp for someone’s home or an insulating window insert. Plant a garden, grow food for the food shelf. Breathe, and then put one foot in front of the other.

This last paragraph is directed at those of you who are safely housed and make enough income to meet your basic needs. I count myself as part of that group. We are so, so very lucky. If we are denied certain medications or services, we will likely be able to receive them in Canada or travel elsewhere. If you do not rely on social services to feed your family or make ends meet, you will not be affected by cuts and changes to benefits. I take this opportunity to remind you not to forget the place of privilege we occupy. Do not abandon the people who will suffer most in the coming years. Stay. Choose to invest in community over and over again. Choose giving your time and money, choose joining the board that meets in the evening every month for two hours that no one else wants to join. I hate to ask you to choose hard work, but that is precisely what I am asking. We’ll be there alongside you.