“What the contributors in this book reveal […] is that if enough of us lean together in the right direction, our trajectory can change; we do have the ability to alter the course of events. We have to make this effort – because the alternative is unthinkable.” -Martin Keogh, Hope Beneath Our Feet
In the vein of that popular question, “What three things would you take if you were shipwrecked on a deserted island?,” I wonder what three things to take as we step forth into this new year of 2011 and continue through the 21st century. It’s a difficult question. Deciding what to pack for survival on a deserted island suddenly seems a far easier question. I’d grab a hatchet, matches, and a survival guide (something that has instructions on how to build a shelter, shape a fishing spear, and a guide to medicinal plants). But, what to take into the year of 2011 and beyond? My survival guide of choice is Hope Beneath Our Feet, an anthology edited by Martin Keogh.
Keogh’s poses the question “In a time of environmental crisis, how can we live right now?” It’s a question I think most of us have spent time pondering. I write this review in the wake of one of the most concerning environmental disasters of my lifetime: the BP oil spill. I, like many, feel that the issues are too big, and I am too small. I stand barely five feet tall in my socks, but it’s not my stature, it’s my power I am worried about. My voice is too quiet, my actions are too insignificant.
Keogh notes in his introduction that he has often heard this echoing sentiment of powerlessness in phrases like, “We are just rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic.” Keogh diagnoses the problem: what people are aching for right now are “practical suggestions.” We all want to do the right thing, but the problems seem so big and we don’t know where to start. The therapy is reading his book: a collection of responses to Keogh’s question of “… how can we live right now?” written by some of the most brilliant minds in environmental advocacy and social change.
These contributing authors simultaneously call us to action and offer us a variety of starting points. Each essay confirms the notion that every little bit really does count. Writings by authors, such as Michael Pollan, attack the question of the overwhelming scale of the environmental problems that we face with the answer that we must begin to effect change, no matter how insignificant we deem the action. We just can’t afford to wait for the enforcement of laws and political leaders.
One of the small and reasonable changes that Pollan offers us is growing some of our own food. Replacing meat with vegetables, he says, can reduce an individual’s carbon footprint by as much as a quarter. Gardening is a form of physical activity, too. Instead of hitting the gym and running like a mouse on a wheel to burn off calorie overload, some time outside in the garden kills yet another bird, the American epidemic of inactivity, with the same stone.
Another argument in favor of growing some of your own food is that your garden will “re-engage you with your neighbors, for you will have produce to give away and the need to borrow their tools.” I laughed out loud when I read this line because our neighbor had just hopped our stone wall to share some of his extra bulbs and asked us to watch their garden while they were on vacation. Our payment would be in tomatoes. And who can deny the incalculable value of warmed-by-the-sun summer tomatoes? Priceless.
In Vicki Robin’s piece, she supports Pollan’s sentiment of the importance of neighbors. Her essay is in the form of a letter from our future selves to us in the present. She gives us advice on what we’ll need and how to prepare for the future we’re heading toward. In the context of self-sufficiency she recommends, “Treat everyone within fifty miles like you love them. You will need them as your friends. They are the raw materials of a sane future, if you want to be purely pragmatic.” Helpful hint number two from her essay is in support of another of Pollan’s arguments: “Grow food”. I think these authors may be on to something. For the rest of Robin’s helpful hints for the future, you’ll just have to read the book.
Whether your New Year’s resolution was to start your own garden this spring or begin biking to work as soon as the snow melts, my mission to you, should you chose to accept it (and you should) is to get your hands on a copy of this book. Share it with friends and family. Whether you read it cover to cover in one sitting or leave it in the bathroom and read one essay at a time, keep this anthology in sight so that it reminds you that you do have a voice, a vote, and a power to make change and inspire others to do the same.
Look for Hope Beneth Our Feet at your local book store, or you can order it at Amazon.com. Also, be sure to checkout the Facebook fan page.
