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Now on to this week’s musings…
Yesterday was Earth Day. Begun in 1970, Earth Day is an annual event held to demonstrate support for environmental protection. Earth Day is, like Autism Awareness Month, International Women’s Days, Black History Month, and so many more, is a good idea in theory. However, I’ve always felt these dedicated days and months are a little like putting a bandage on a small cut while ignoring the gaping wound that’s going to kill you. They have become something people can point to and say “see, we care” while avoiding the hard work of true systemic change.
I’ve never understood why people think teaching black history, or women’s history, or queer history in isolation for a single month of the year redresses the balance of colonial, patriarchal history taught the rest of the year. I’ve never understood why society should be applauded for being “aware” of autism for a single month when those of us who are neurodiverse live in a world we struggle in every day.
A dedicated, isolated moment simply isn’t going to heal the gaping wounds in society.
The earth crisis doesn’t need a single day of celebration, protest, education. The earth crisis needs to be part of everything we do, every choice we make, every act, every lesson. Every everything.
My Grandmother was an activist and historian of black history. Her home was filled with books and papers, art and ornaments, from a life spent fighting racism and injustice. A few weeks ago Kim and I spent fours days sorting out her entire house. It was a mammoth task, but thankfully not one we had to do alone. The Black Cultural Archives and Senate House Library came and collected box upon box of books, journals, papers, and ephemera. They will be made available to those who need them, the researchers who are continuing the fight my grandmother dedicated her life to.
Nothing about Marika’s dedication was constrained to a single day or month. She lived and breathed the fight for equality until the very end, speaking of it even on her death bed. She was an inspiration, strong and dedicated.
I spent Earth Day nesting in my studio. Arranging and rearranging furniture, pictures, tools. I had brought a beautiful vintage Singer Sewing table and a few pots from Marika’s and they necessitated moving everything. As I moved things around, I also displayed the collection of bones and seaweed, shells and feathers I have amassed from walks over the years. The more-than-human began filling my studio with their voices.
The earth crisis is the fight I have chosen. I have chosen to dedicate my life, and particularly the next four years during my PhD, to researching and making art about the right of the more-than-human inhabitants of this planet to survive the threat of mass extinction. Now, when I step into my studio to make work, I will do it surrounded by what I am fighting for.
In my last letter I wrote a little about my PhD and the shift in my art to use materials and processes that do as little environmental damage as possible. After work on Easter Sunday I spent a few hours dehairing a deer hide I had been soaking in sodium hydroxide for three days. As I worked on it, I was overcome with fear and shame. I had used chemicals without thinking about it, simply following the guidance I’d found online. Despite hosing down the entire area I spent the night worrying about my cats, my dog, the hedgehogs I know come through the garden. What if my thoughtless action hurt or killed someone.
When I woke the next morning, tired from guilt filled sleep, I found myself comparing my small thoughtless moment to the entire industrial complex. How has we managed to divorce ourselves so completely from the world around us that we daily do damage to the more-than-human without being crippled by shame and guilt? How do people live with themselves knowing their jobs are killing our more-than-human neighbours?
My deer skin is done now, ready to come to my studio and be shaped into something sculptural. I have researched wood ash as the brilliantly simple alternative to chemicals. I have forgiven myself for my mistake, and been reminded how easy it is to misstep, and how simple it is to change. Every time this happens, every time I take another step in understanding the impact of my actions, I redefine what it means to do my best in the fight for the Earth.
Thinking about Marika. Looking around at the beautiful things of hers I am now lucky enough to call my own I am reminded that learning, caring, and fighting for change are a wonderful way to spend a life.
Earth Day is a fantastic start, but it is not enough. It’s a bandage on a gaping wound that will take the collective lifetimes of individuals and communities to heal. So, if you’re reading this letter, let this Earth Day become a one moment in a collection of interconnection moments spent in this on-going fight. When it comes around again next year let each of us be able to point at the actions we’ve taken and the things we’ve learned that honour, protect, and celebrate the more-than-human.
More soon.
Everyday is Earth day in my world 🙏🫶🌻🌳
I love this post. Well done for noticing and then forgiving both so important to keep going. I try to make earth day choices every day and I love the reminder xoxox