Love in the Time of Climate Change (37 page)

They got a standing ovation. Another A.

Two students had devised a game called Sustainable Life, modeled after the old classic Game of Life. It was a board game where you rolled a die and moved forward the number of spaces that corresponded to the number on the die. First one to the finish line won.

Some spaces were marked with good things:

• Install photovoltaic panels on your co-housing complex. Move forward four spaces.

• Build a hoop house for a four-season garden. Advance three.

• Add another 9 inches of cellulose to your attic. Take an action card.

• Ride your bike instead of driving to school. Roll again.

  Some spaces were marked with bad things:

• Forget to take your birth control pill. Go back two spaces.

• Let your car idle in the parking lot. Give up an action card.

• Leave your air conditioner on while you're away for the weekend. Lose a turn.

  And the worst roll you could get:

• Vote for a climate-change-denying politician. Go back to start!

Awesome! What was not to like? A+.

Even the backward-baseball-cap boys who snoozed in the last row had come through. Any completed work from those three constituted a major victory. They handed in a CD of a song they had recorded, something clearly done the night before under the influence of a case or two of Budweiser. Here is a sample of the lyrics:

My truck won't start

My tractor is broke

My dog just bit me

My girlfriend's a joke

My face is all sunburned

With a hundred zits forming

And to top this shit off

The climate is warming

I had to admit, it did have a certain twangy country charm to it. While their musical abilities sucked, that wasn't the point. I gave them a B+.

Overall I was pleased and impressed.

Last but certainly not least (never that!) Samantha had written a wonderful pamphlet for her middle-school Science for Girls group that she was forming. It went like this:

Global warming is the real deal. And very scary. Hotter temperatures, rising sea levels, bigger storms—yikes!!!! Makes you want to crawl under the covers and hide. Definitely not an option! Everyone has to step up to help solve this problem. Follow the Global Warming ABC's and let's all do our part to make a difference.

A is for Action.
The future of our planet is at stake. Only action from all of us will help stop global warming. Definitely not a battle you can sit out. Get Active!

B is for Bike and bus.
Whenever possible, leave the car at home. Walk or bike off those calories while saving the environment! When in town take public transportation like the bus or subway.

C is for Conservation.
Less energy used = less greenhouse gas emissions. Buy energy-efficient (Energy Star) appliances. Retire the dryer and hang out your laundry. Turn off the TV and take a hike!

D is for Dress.
Dress warmly in winter. Wear that ridiculous sweater that Grandma gave you rather than cranking the thermostat. Every degree you turn it down means less carbon dioxide going up. In the summer, dress Cool!

E is for Educate.
Learn about the issues. Educate yourself, your family, your friends. Get the word out about steps people can take to make a difference.

F is for Floss.
It has nothing to do with global warming but it is so good for your teeth!

G is for Garden.
Grow your own food. Support farmers' markets. Buy locally grown fruits and vegetables. The less distance food travels to you, the greater the energy savings.

H is for Hybrid.
Parents shopping for a new car? How about a hybrid or alternative-fueled vehicle? Boycott gas guzzlers. When you get older, don't ride with a guy no matter how hot he is if his car gets less than 30 miles to the gallon. That's just not cool!

I is for Insulate.
Weather-stripping and rolls of fiberglass may not be the sexiest thing around, but keeping the warm in on those cold nights is HOT!

J is for Join.
Join a group working on global-warming issues. No group at school? Start one!

K is for Keep.
Keep your showers under 5 minutes. Showering
is not a recreational sport! Longer doesn't always mean sexier.

L is for Lights.
Lights out when you leave the room. Change those lightbulbs from energy-wasting incandescents to energy-efficient compact fluorescents or LEDs. And remember, kissing in the dark is so romantic!

M is for Mow.
Chores to do? Mow your lawn with a hand mower or an efficient electric mower. Better yet, plant wildflowers or vegetables and hoe—don't mow! While you're at it, lose the leaf and snow blower and give those abs a workout with a rake or a shovel.

N is for nine.
Nine people in a school carpool? Maybe not, but three or four saves gas and money and keeps you up on the latest scandals and gossip.

O is for Organize.
Organize a talk, a movie, a money-raising walk, a benefit dance. Get involved. Get others involved.

P is for Paper or Plastic?
How about neither! Bring your own reusable bags when shopping. Save trees and energy.

Q is for Quarter.
Put a quarter in the jar every time you do something stupid. Once it adds up, donate those dollars to a global-warming awareness group.

R is for Reduce, Reuse, Recycle, and Rethink.
Make sure those bottles, cans, and paper go where they belong. No bins at school? Get the maintainers involved and start a recycling program.

S is for Solar.
Solar is so Hot! Energy from the sun and wind will reduce global warming. Get your parents, school, church, synagogue, or mosque to buy solar hot-water heaters and solar electric panels.

T is for Trees.
Plant them. Lots of them. They take carbon dioxide out of the air. They give us oxygen. Trees = good!

U is for Use.
While abstinence is the best policy, if you make the decision to have sex, use birth control. Think
about the number of kids you want to have. Keep the planet in mind when planning your family.

V is for Vote!
Register to vote when you turn eighteen. Democracy is not a spectator sport. Politicians waffling on global warming need to get the boot!

W is for Write.
Write an opinion piece for your school or local newspaper. Write a letter to the editor. People will read what you have to say. The written word is a powerful thing.

X is for eXcuse.
There is no excuse for being an energy hog. Look at your room, your apartment, your house. Make a list of ways to save energy. Reward yourself (chocolate?) for each of your successes.

Y is for Yell.
Yell loudly. Yell often. Go to demonstrations. Speak your mind and make your voice heard. You are the one who can make a difference in the world!

Z is for Zero.
Make the shape of one with your fingers. That's the shape of our earth. It's the only one we've got and it's up to us to protect it. Begin now!

At the risk of repeating myself, what a woman! Put those words to a country music song and think of the hit you could have! I put a big C- on the top of the first page and then wrote “just kidding: A!” with a big smiley face drawn next to it. Tacky but …

“I
T'S SO WEIRD
,” S
AMANTHA SAID
. It was the last day of class. The end of the semester.

“What's so weird?”

“How school just ends. You become so accustomed, so attached to all of these people in your class and then,
ZAP
, it's all over. Just like that. You may never see any of them ever again.” She looked right at me.

“So weird,” I agreed, looking down.

“It's the occupational hazard of teaching. We go through this twice a year. Every year. Just when you start to get to know someone, to really know them, they're gone.”

“Just like that,” I said.

“Sometimes it's the greatest thing in the world to be done with a class. Counting the days until it is goodbye and good riddance. Out with the old, thank God, and bring on the new. But other times …”

We both sat in silence for a moment.

“It's been great to be a student again,” she said. “It really has. It's been so valuable getting it from the other side. I'll definitely be a better teacher for it. Not just for the content
I got, or learning how others, like you, teach, but just by being a student.”

“Yeah.” I said.

“I'm going to miss it. I'm going to miss this class.”

“So am I.”

“I'm going to miss Cynthia and Jenny and Warren and all of them.”

I nodded my head. “Warren. Wow. I hope he hangs in there. Miracle of miracles, I actually think he's going to pass this time. He's a good kid.”

“He is,” Samantha said.

“It's kind of funny.”

“What's kind of funny?” she asked.

“You remember all that weird stuff he said about being a Catastropharian and the end of the Mayan calendar forecasting the impending Apocalypse and everything?”

“I do.”

I braced myself, crossed and uncrossed my legs, and held on to the edge of the desk for support.

This was it! D-Day had finally arrived. It was now or never. My whole life, my whole future, hung in the balance. I took a deep breath and plowed forward.

“Well, believe it or not,” I said, “I'm going to a party this Saturday night. It's a combination Mayan End of the World slash Winter Solstice slash Thank God the Semester Is Over party.”

“That sounds fun,” Samantha said.

“I hope so. I was just thinking how awkward it would be if Warren was there.”

Actually, I wasn't thinking that at all. I had the right line in my head, Christ knows I had practiced in the mirror for hours, but it just couldn't make it to the mouth.
Ask her, you fool! Ask her!

“I doubt you have to worry,” she replied. “He probably doesn't hang in the same crowd as you.”

Crowd? What crowd? Jesse and Sarah and I didn't exactly make a crowd.

“Yeah. It should be a great party. This friend of mine is pretty nuts. He teaches at Smith College and is taking over one of the buildings for the night. DJ and everything. Dance till you drop. It's Saturday night.”

“Fun.”

“This Saturday.”

“You said that.”

“It starts at nine o'clock.”

“Saturday night it is,” Samantha said.

We sat again in silence, words screaming through my head. I crossed and uncrossed and recrossed my legs.

“Do you want to tell me where?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Yeah, I do. I really do.”

“Great.”

Another round of silence.

“And the answer is …”

“Right. Sorry. The Smith College field house in Northampton. On 66. Down by the tennis courts. Do you know where that is?”

“I'm sure I can find it,” she answered.

“Great.”

“So … are you inviting me?” she asked.

“Well, I mean, you could bring a friend. You know, a boyfriend. Girlfriend. Whatever.”

“So you are inviting me?”

“I mean, you know, if you, like, well, whatever …” I stammered, twisting my legs together in such a pretzel-like knot that I couldn't feel my body from the pelvis down. Plus I was hyperventilating. This was not quite coming out as planned. I looked away, but I could feel her smile.

“So you're not not inviting me.”

“Exactly!”

“What time again?”

“Nine o'clock.”

She thought for just a moment.

“No,” she said.

I turned and looked at her. No?
No?
Damn! So this is how it all ended. This is how the captain felt standing in the wheelhouse, weeping, as the
Titanic
plunged to the bottom of the sea.

“No?” I said, choking on the words. “You can't come?”

“No I don't have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. But I'd love to come.”

I let go my breath, way too loudly. The shattered ship rose magically up and over the icebergs and the waves, soaring high above the clouds.

“Wow! Great! Terrific!”

“How about you?” she asked.

“Yeah. I can go. I'll be there. Definitely.”

She laughed. “I meant are you going with someone.”

“Me? No! No way! Oh my god. Of course not!”

“Why ‘of course not'?”

“If I was going with someone then I wouldn't be …” Long pause.

“Asking me out?”

I looked away awkwardly.

“So … nine o'clock.” She smiled and twirled her hair and smiled again.