"I Want More Than To Return to 'Life as Normal'"—by Susan Pepper

(This essay by my daughter, Susan, is so meaningful I decided to share it on my blog. It ran on-line in today's Cincinnati's Enquirer)

Two important lessons for me through COVID-19: life is indeed fragile AND we are not powerless to make big sweeping change as a culture – one person and one household at a time. These lessons are changing the way I think about the enormous challenges we face with climate change.

The world has “shut down” in a way many of us have never before experienced. Of course, front-line medical workers and others performing essential jobs have probably never felt so stretched or overworked. And while we have just completed about six weeks of staying at home (I’ve lost track), my mind returns to a problem I’ve thought about, worried about and grieved for over half of my life – the incompatibility of our culture and way of life here in America with the viability of the ecosystem and the natural world that is the root of our very existence.

While the government is trying to prepare to get our economy back up and running, I realize that I don’t want to go back to life as usual. I want something more – something better for humanity and something better for our ecosystem.

I’ve harbored a vision for a long time, and that vision is pretty – to stay grounded in my home and community and develop bonds with the people and spaces around me. I see our current economy as being akin to a bulldozer clear-cutting a forest. When we should be devising new modes of public transportation, highways for cars are widened. When we should be finding new ways to harness the sun’s power and other sustainable innovations, we’ve seen pipelines being dug – and more pollution in the air and groundwater.

I’ve often dismissed the concerns that I felt before I ever heard the words “climate change.” I couldn’t explain the nagging worry I felt around sustainability because it seemed so foreign to the drive for prosperity and seeming invincibility in the culture around me. After all, our leaders constantly remind us that we are America, second to none. And now, this pandemic has reminded me that life is fragile and that we are not invincible. Mostly, I have honestly been afraid to really examine the predictions of scientists around climate change.

As science offers real resources during this crisis, I am asking myself what lessons there might be here for climate change. When scientists in the CDC quietly but visibly communicated on their website in February that the spread of this disease was inevitable, I acted. I began to prepare my mind. I began to prepare our home and stock up our pantry with some essentials to help us get by some weeks without going to the store.

Maybe it’s finally time I have the courage to listen to, understand and act on the alarm bells scientists have been sounding for my entire 42 years of life.

I want to stay home, not for COVID-19 but for other reasons. I want to keep getting to know my neighbors. Getting to know the land and this place where I live – for my sake and for my children’s. I’m so scared to admit it, but that’s exactly what I want us all to do, all the while building a healthier economy, a healthier environment and healthier ways of life than previously known. This will take some doing, of course, but we know “business as usual” will likely result in the undoing of us all, so the first option seems like the more sensible of the two.

I’ve often dismissed my vision – my dream – not thinking it possible. But, now I’ve seen how fast sweeping change can happen (and I’m at home) – so I see that possibilities for collective action for the good (and the bad) are possible.

We have learned through COVID-19 that we are more interconnected than we knew. A breath of air with a lethal pathogen has managed to be shared and passed person-to-person in a matter of months across the globe. If we are so connected with each other, then we must, too, be interconnected to the spaces between us. Our water, our air, our land – it is not “the environment.” It is who I am; it is who we all are.

I pray we find a way to collectively harness our wisdom, creativity and intelligence to do this together in a humane and sustainable way.

Susan Pepper lives near Sylva, North Carolina, with her husband and two children and is a singer/songwriter in the old traditions of the mountains and movie producer.