Close up of a person in a red and white shirt with their hand over their heart

What I feel and what I believe

I was on the trolley, which, in the neighborhoods of Philadelphia in which it runs, serves as a kind of public square – a place to see neighbors and fellow citizens of the city and catch bits and pieces of what others are talking about that day. The person sitting behind me was on the phone. They said, “You know, it’s going to be really warm today. I don’t understand what’s going on. It’s going to be 80 degrees.”

It was November 1. The day before had been an unusually warm Halloween. Election Day was also too warm for comfort. As was the day after, when many of us learned the results. 

Here in the Philadelphia region, it has been a season of unseasonably warm weather. And as I write this on Friday, it has also been the longest stretch without measurable rainfall in recorded history. 

I feel so much grief right now. 

For me, it’s not just about the temperature. Things like walking around outside in November in just a t-shirt or not being able to go camping on the weekend because it’s too profoundly dry to have a campfire serve as reminders of something much bigger: what we’re on track to do to our planet – and ourselves. I do this work because so many real people’s lives are at stake, and I feel an obligation to them, to all of us. We all deserve to live and thrive, no matter what we look like or how much money we make.

So now, facing what it means for the incoming federal government to be hell bent on racing us down a path towards the tipping point of climate catastrophe – and with such disregard for the communities who’ll be most impacted – I feel devastated. And there are so many other issues also at stake here that are weighing on my heart, with terrible impacts I feel clear about and other deeply uncertain impacts I fear.  

And also, since we learned the election results, I’ve already experienced comfort and hope and trust, looking around this community, tapping into our organizational cultural principles, and remembering what we accomplished with our campaign strategy this year. Working with EQAT has taught me that we’re surrounded by such rich social movement wisdom, we can choose to keep learning from everything we do, and we’ve got deep capacity to keep growing ever more into our power.  

One of the things I’ve read this week that has most helped me is “10 ways to be prepared and grounded now that Trump has won” in Waging Nonviolence, written by Daniel Hunter, friend of EQAT. Click around to the sources hyperlinked in the article, and you’ll find a rich array of resources, some created by EQATers. I resonate with Daniel’s invitation to take time now to feel, connect, and release what we must. In good time we will also build our path forward, double down on growing our power, and campaign for a better future. 

I feel sure that corporate campaigning has a vital role to play. Vanguard can no longer hide behind the argument that it’s just waiting to be told by policy or regulation what it must do, that the government is the only institution to deal with this. We no longer have time to wait for others to solve climate change for us – and that’s all the more true for the world’s largest investor in fossil fuels. At EQAT we will forge ahead with the Vanguard S.O.S. campaign because we know that corporations like Vanguard must change course and do better. 

You’re invited to join us to gather in community, connect with each other, and reground in the role of corporate campaigning during our monthly General Meeting tomorrow, Tuesday, November 12, from 6:30 to 8:30 pm over Zoom. 

We also hope you’ll join us for our next action, calling on Vanguard CEO Salim Ramji to be a climate hero, on Wednesday, November 20 from 2:00 to 4:00 pm at Vanguard’s headquarters in Malvern, PA. With space for grief, grounding, joy, and stepping into our power together, we will show Ramji exactly how to do the right thing.

Photo by Rachael Warriner

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