On this, the last day but one of the hottest summer on record, Portland hit 90 degrees Fahrenheit for the twenty-first time this calendar year. A fitting day for the event I reluctantly attended this afternoon: the People's Climate March.
|Sticking to the shade|
|Temperatures were near 90F|
My hopes for turnout were buoyed by the number of demonstrators that boarded the bus as we neared downtown. In fact, all seats were occupied, and many folks had to stand. Senior citizens, families with children, hippies, hipsters, church folks, labor unions --all had a contingency.
I conversed with a woman a few years younger than me, named Angela. She was on her way to the demonstration with her tween-aged daughter.
"Looks like we might have a good turnout," Angela said, glancing around the bus at the people with their placards and their noise-makers.
"Yeah," I said. "I hope so. But I've got to tell you, I don't know if these demonstrations do much good. I remember when we had the massive demonstrations against the Bush administration and the illegal Iraq invasion. We came out in our millions and it didn't do any good."
She nodded glumly. But then she brightened. "These events are good for community building though."
"True," I admitted. "And it is heartening to gather with other like-minded people just to mitigate the feeling of isolation."
On this we agreed.
The crowd at Waterfront was sizable, but it was such a hot day and the sun so merciless that people clustered in the shade patches afforded by the trees along the walkway and the stretched shadows of the high-rise hotels across the street. The crowd on the swathes of sun-beaten grass closer to the river was spottier.
I was disappointed. Reports had it that, on the other side of the country, in Manhattan, the climate march attracted 300,000-plus. Portland, of course, can't expect to match the crowds in the Big Apple, but we are still the feisty Rose City, whom Bush the Elder named the "Beirut of North America." I felt we could have done better.
|Governor Kitzhaber addresses the crowd|
Which gets to the reason I was reluctant to attend.
|Clever play on words, madam|
I learned a valuable and bitter lesson from that travesty. It's something that I first encountered when I read Tolstoy's War and Peace in my college days, and which my experiences since have only served to confirm: Human events, history, social evolution, progress --whatever you choose to call it --operates outside human wishes or desires. War, technology, economic development are phenomena that have lives of their own quite apart from the petty wishes of individuals or even societies.
And that, I suspect is what will determine the fate of humanity as regards climate change. Carbon emissions will rise or fall according to laws that are quite beyond what anyone might want or hope --whether it's the Earth-loving hippie or the greedy short-sighted Texas oilman.
|I would've liked to see a better turnout|
Because of this: In some far-flung future, if and when there is some entity or society that looks upon our race and wonders about us --whether we were aware of our doom, whether we were concerned, whether we cared at all --I want to be part of that contingent that registers our capacity for compassion and hope and concern for the people of the future.
That's why I went today. That's why I'll go next time. I'll always go, if I can.
And I'll try to keep smiling. Even while the house burns down.