Poems by Dan Kriesberg

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Environmental Dilemma

I arise in the morning torn between a desire to save the world and a desire to savor the world. This makes it hard to plan the day.
               E. B. White

by Dan Kriesberg

From Canary Winter 2018-19

Dan lives on a peninsula between the Long Island Sound and Mill Creek on land that was once an asparagus farm.

The beauty of knowing and caring about the natural world is being a witness to its wonder. The sadness of knowing and caring about the natural world is being a witness to its destruction. During the same walk in the woods I can marvel and find comfort watching a chipmunk gather acorns and despair at the Asian bittersweet pulling down the red oak trees. I can watch a wood thrush migrating north, knowing my membership in the Adirondack Mountain Club helps protect its nesting habitat and at the same time question how the bananas I buy cause deforestation of the thrush’s winter home. An awareness of inter-relationships shows me the connections that both harm and help. The awareness of these interrelationships tells me the truth of what is going on.

My high impact lifestyle is not designed for long- term environmental sustainability. Given the state of the environment, I maintain an immoral way of life even if I tie up the cardboard and put out the glass and plastic on Thursdays or buy most of my pants and shirts at the Boys and Girls Club Clothing Sale. There is a ridiculous number of problems, with new ones on the horizon, all of which arise from human actions and inactions. It is so easy to do harm, how can I do right? The dilemmas are daily. Even the food store is a nightmare. Is it better to buy organic bananas wrapped in plastic or the regular ones that are not? What kind of eggs are the best to buy? Is it okay to eat flounder? Even when I want to do more, it is hard to know what actions are the most important and which actions to take. A cradle- to- grave analysis for each purchase or action, while useful, would just not work while standing in aisle 8 of the Stop and Shop. Plus, when extra time presents itself, I admit I would much rather take a hike than write letters to my congressional representatives, research the cost/ benefit ratio of putting up solar panels on our house or organize a fundraiser for the Sierra Club.

Here on the north shore of Long Island where the population of televisions and computers per household vastly outnumbers people and it is one of the only places on earth where my house would be considered small, it is easy to rationalize my actions and be a moral elitist by telling myself I do more than most. But do I stop flying out West for backpacking trips? It is time and money, not carbon, that limits my trips. I’d like to be a more responsible planetary citizen, but at what point do I really put my ecological footprint ahead of my suburban lifestyle? Even if I am personally willing to live with less, how much do I ask of my family?

When Scott was 11 he used his Christmas money to buy an Xbox gaming system. That meant he needed a TV. I managed to find a free one before our neighbor threw it out. It lasted a year or so. But when it died, I couldn’t convince Scott to let me find another free one. “I want a flat screen, and I have enough money from my birthday” We were off to Best Buy. Surrounded by electronic access, I was twitching. Finally, he settled on one of the cheaper models, a small victory but a victory nonetheless. It is one thing to say no a child’s request because of money or age appropriateness but another to say no “just” for environmental reasons.

“We are not buying a flat screen because I have a friend that will give us one for free and a new one would be a waste of resources.”

For years we have tried to have a somewhat perfect suburban lawn. Karen has created a beautiful garden and understandably would like a lawn to match. The organic method has not worked and the crab grass comes back each summer with a vengeance. I can see why Karen would like a lawn that does not turn brown in August. She asked if we could try an herbicide to kill the crabgrass. My first reaction was No, this is where I make a stand. But then I thought, Maybe just one application and we could at least get a head start on getting rid of the crabgrass, how bad could it be? It helped a little but crabgrass is tough.

Once, when my brother and I were backpacking in Yosemite, we climbed above 10,000 feet. At that elevation no campfires are allowed. In those days I did not have a stove and cooked over a campfire. I was tired and hungry and said we should just make a fire; there was no one for miles. Joe responded, “If we don’t follow the rules, who does?” We hiked down. We need to live as if the mountains are watching us.

I wonder how it would go if I made these new rules for the Kriesberg household?

  1. We are only going to have one car.
  2. We will only eat organic food and become vegetarians.
  3. We are not going to have a dog but instead save the money for our family charities.
  4. All investments will be with socially responsible mutual funds.
  5. We will only wear secondhand clothes.
  6. No shower will be longer than three minutes
  7. Relatives will be encouraged to spend less money on gifts for birthdays.

The boys’ rooms were filled with plastic, and wish I had said more often, “Just because you have the money doesn’t mean you need to spend it.” It would be good if the boys were uncomfortable sometimes. It would be good if we all were.

One answer is not to focus on how a more sustainable lifestyle limits us but to focus instead on what an environmentally sustainable lifestyle can do for us. Instead of saying Don’t to X, let’s say Do Y instead. Motivating people would be easier if the emphasis were put on what we can do instead of what we should not do. This would hold for political decisions as well. Instead of saying no to housing developments, it would be yes to land preservation. Instead of no to regulations, yes to more clean water. Instead of no to pesticides, yes to safer lawns.

The problems are deeply- seated and pervasive, which makes taking action overwhelming. But inaction is not the answer. When Zack was little, nap time was chore time for me. I would get him to sleep and quickly go and get something meaningful done. When it was close to his wake- up time, I would say to myself, “Why bother getting started on another chore when Zack is about to wake up?” I’d half start something or just putter around. Finally, I realized that I was wasting a lot of time that could be productive. Even if there was not much time, there was still time to get something done. If Zack woke up I would stop, but at least more was done than if I had never started. This line of thinking doesn’t just apply to chores. Ten minutes of exercise is better than no exercise, ten minutes of writing is better than no writing. Ten minutes of environmental action is better than none.

I carry on with my rituals, as small a contribution as they may be. The wax paper from cereal boxes is good for wrapping sandwiches. Those plastic bags from the newspapers are good for cleaning up after the dog. There is some satisfaction in calling mail order companies and asking to be taken off their mailing lists. When opportunities to do good works present themselves, I try to grab them.

The unease that I am not doing my share still remains.It is hard not to think I am just rationalizing that small acts are meaningful because I don’t want to make true sacrifices. I want to believe that I am doing my share. Of course I could slow down my suburban life marathon to have a vegetable garden, an electric car and solar panels.

It would all be so much easier if there were a set amount each person should do. That way I could put in my dues and be guilt free and at ease. We are all a little like the students in my classroom who ask, “How many pages does it have to be?” For now I do some things, try to do a little more, and by trying to make changes at work, I multiply the impact of my actions. It helps to keep the faith and hope that the planet is more resilient than we think. Still I am also torn between pessimism and optimism. Like so many things in life, it is a work in progress.


www.dankriesberg.com




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