I work as a campaigner for a global non-profit organization. But when people ask me what I do for work, I often say “writer” or “translator” (which is not wrong as these make up a significant portion of my job) — “campaigner” sounds wonky and many can’t associate anything with it. And “activist” sounds even worse, as if I were constantly marching on the streets and printing illegal pamphlets in a dark, shady copy shop.
The truth is: I am probably an activist. “Probably,” because I’m most of the time typing into my computer or on some video or real-life conferences, and only occasionally to be found marching somewhere. Still, I dedicate a huge portion of my life to a cause I believe in, to the fight for a just and livable planet — most of the time typing into my computer or on video conferences.
Why do I do that? The answer is simple: Because I want to be able to look my daughter in the eyes in 15, 20 years. Because I want to be able to tell her: “I was on the right side of history” (best case scenario) or “I tried so hard, my love” (worst case scenario). Because I have a close to certainty kind of hope in people power.
Ever since I was twelve, I’ve been terrified about environmental destruction, climate change, and diminishing resources. It’s what brought me to studying Biology and Conservation, and what made me become a writer desperately trying to get the word out. And while the sense of urgency was always there, having my daughter scaled things up one million times. As Greta Thunberg, the Swedish 16 year old climate activist said: “I want you to act as if our house is on fire, because it is.” And I can’t just sit still and watch it burn. Nor can I let children and teenagers shoulder the burden of fighting for a livable planet alone.
They say, we’ve got less than 12 years left to drastically cut our carbon emissions worldwide if we want to stop this man-made climate change from reaching an irreversible, catastrophic tipping point. Our oceans are suffocating in our plastic waste, and tiny plastic particles have made its way into our tap water. And we are in the middle of the 6th mass extinction: We’ve lost more than half of our wild animals already, and populations of bees and other insects we need for our crops are rapidly declining.
This all might sound too big and too late. More often than I should I feel like I want to stick my head in the sand in negligence and despair. But then I remember, I am a mother. And mothers are primed to protect their children and provide for a safe future for them. We are a force with the power and potential to bring on change, to shape the world, because we are a majority, and nobody can ignore or disrespect a mother fighting for her children.
And this gives me hope and determination. We can put out the fire that’s ravaging our home, by literally starting at our own doorsteps. We can demand that our town or school district switches to electric school buses. We can call on our councilmen and women to push for solar panels on schools and public buildings. We can advocate for a local, county-level climate resolution to go 100% clean by 2030. It’s about taking one small win after another, and winning one ally after another, until no-one can ignore us anymore.
As a “professional campaigner” I can assure you that every voice, every signature, every pair of feet on the street counts. And sure as heck every win counts. (And victories are SO. SWEET. Y’all!) I also found a kind of “mom-friends” that’s been unique — getting together for a purpose, something so meaningful, connects you in a deep way like no other.
That’s why I will continue typing into my computer and – occasionally – marching on the streets, together with my daughter. I hope one day she’ll be proud of me!
P.S.: If you want to know more about being an active(ist) mom, feel free to leave a comment or contact me through Facebook, etc. If you want to join our local group of “moms squad putting out the fire”, you can find us on https://www.mothersoutfront.org/lee_county_al and on Facebook.
