Resistance. Quiet, persistent resistance.
Every once in a while, that resistance comes to everyone and everything.
As we note Earth Day this week, we are reminded of that resistance. In our stay-safe-at-home times, we are now seeing a world where the air is cleaner, the sound of nature is clearer and the Earth is actually healing itself a little at a time. There is a chilling, yet quiet beauty seeing the streets of Paris, London, Rome and New York virtually empty and nature going on quite well without us.
It’s as if Earth finally said, “ENOUGH.” If we won’t stop and think about what we are doing to the planet and ourselves, then maybe this deadly little bug will do it for us. It’s a tragedy that it will cost the lives of thousands, maybe millions to come to this point, but maybe this is the wake-up call we need to make the world a better place for everyone and everything.
Fifty years into the Earth Day era we wonder what we have accomplished. An event sparked by an oil spill off the coast of California has turned into a world movement of recycling, discussions (or arguments) over climate change and a deeper awareness of this fragile planet that we live on and all the creatures that inhabit it, large and small.
Have we accomplished much? That is open for debate. Are we leaving this world a better place for our children, grandchildren, future generations? Or will they have to fix the mess we collectively created? Time will be the ultimate judge.
But in this time of enforced solitude, maybe we should ponder the deeper meanings of our lives. While we resist a tiny virus that has brought the world’s governments to a standstill, what kind of world do we really want to create in the aftermath of this horror?
Symbols are an important element in life, from a patriotic banner, a hand held aloft in a peace or victory sign of past generations to the simple act of holding each other close during times of tragedy.
Today, blue lights can be found outside homes and businesses across America, in honor of our first responders, healthcare workers and others who have risked their lives to save ours. And while some vocally live in fear of loss of life, liberty and the material pursuit of happiness, for the majority of us shut-ins, this can also be a time of quiet resistance and hope for the future and a demand that we must do better, treat everyone with kindness and work together to create a more equitable and safer society for all.
For the past few nights, we have lit a candle in our window, as a sign of respect for those we have lost, a symbol of hope for the future, and a demand of our leaders and society to create a better world. For now, this is the least we can do as we stay at home in the hope we can spare the lives of others.
But when the time comes for us to venture out, at a safe social distance, wouldn’t it be a sight to see a hundred, a thousand or more candlelit marches in cities across America. A quiet symbol of remembrance for those we have lost, a thankfulness for those who have given their full measure of life to save others, and a quiet demand to hold accountable those who did not do what they should have to make this a better, safer world for all.
It’s the least we can do, but a great start on the road to healing ourselves and our fragile planet. So safely light your candle – wax, battery or electric – and begin this new era of quiet resistance.
— Frank X. Moraga and Star Hunter are the editors/publishers of Amigos Publications — Shooting Star Communications LLC. Both previously served as environmental reporters for Southern California newspapers.