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The Green

Mission Statement: Our mission is to strengthen and unify the young environmental community in the Bay Area by sharing interests, information, and calls to action. We seek to inspire participation in projects and events between groups, strengthen journalistic skills, and foster career exploration.

November 2003
Issue 10

Quote of the Month

"Having to squeeze the last drop of utility out of the land has the same desperate finality as having to chop up the furniture to keep warm."
Aldo Leopold

submitted by Chris Kim

Photos - All photos in this issue were taken at EarthTeam's Restoration Kickoff on September 27
by Jeff Martin, Acalanes High School, Lafayette

photo               photo

 

"Encounters with Mother Earth"

by Vrinda Manglik, Acalanes High School

Her murmurs were nearly inaudible. She fumbled with sound and language. Frustrated, exhausted, she limped through the woods with a desperate urgency, wanting to be free of her hideousness. Coughing, gasping, groaning. In her weakness she tumbled forward and retreated, again and again.

"I’m dying….child….." Little squirrels scurried away, and a swarm of sparrows erupted. She began to moan, remembering the beauty and grace of her younger days. "I need you…." Even though she was a haggardly old woman, her soul was an innocent one.

She collapsed at the foot of an oak tree. And she waited, like a jaded beggar, for some element of comfort…for a protecting touch.

A male teenager passed by: he was big and thick-necked, and he had an ego problem to make up for his low self-esteem. He was startled by the sight of a haggardly old woman at the foot of an oak tree. It was obvious that he didn’t want anyone to see him near someone so pathetic-looking. What would everyone else think of him? PLUS, she didn’t matter anyway. She should get a job. It wasn’t his problem. Nevertheless, his curiosity…or perhaps nosiness….spurred him to probe a little. He couldn’t see her face beneath the black hood of her shawl…but he could hear that she was groaning.

"Ummm…excuse me, what’s wrong with……are you okay?" There was a long silence, and then she blurted out a fragmented "HELP". At this point, her hood fell to her shoulders and her hideousness was revealed. Black, brown, rotting. Her face had no features. There were no eyes, and her mouth had no opening. Her face was a pile of death: wet dark tea leaves, flakes of tobacco, and soil; it was shadowy and loose. Because she had no features, her face looked a bit like a potato, except that it was dark and messy and earthy. She whimpered "My….weakness…" with self-hating desperation.

Drawing-in his breath as if he were resurfacing for the first time after drowning, he backed away and fell onto his tailbone. He wiggled backwards urgently, bewildered and petrified. "What the f*** is wrong with you? You, you…..beast!!" And he began to run away, remembering his status as a cross-country super-star. He tried to maintain his image of nonchalance but the truth was he had never been more terrified in his life. He had never seen anything uglier.

And she did look disgusting. Feeble, and falling apart. She began to sob, and attempted to speak again. "Fool!" she tried to shout, but she said it as if she couldn’t open her jaw. The guy tilted his head backwards a little, probably to check if she was following him, and he continued on his way. He didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that he nearly just wet himself, so he slowed-down to a walk-jog and began keeping time with a stick he picked up.

The woman groaned, "My child, my child" and as she spoke, large chunks of her earthy face crumbled off—leaving an uneven mess of large hollows and huge mounds. She tried to tell him that she was sick…terribly sick. But he just kept walking away. She didn’t understand why he felt scared, embarrassed, ashamed. How could he feel that way towards the one who gave him life? She who gave birth to the forest and his parents and the disgusted squirrels and skeptical sparrows?

And so she collapsed, with her hood and robe, into a pile of disfigured misery. She felt strange spots upon her face, which she recognized as disease. She felt an unbearable gnawing in her stomach, which she recognized as starvation. And as she began to cough up blood, and more chunks of soil crumbled off her face, she spoke with a quiet anger:
          "But....but I'm your mother....I'm dying....child....I'm broken."

Eventually, the birds creeped close to her again, and began pecking at the remains of her face. The squirrels, too returned. But all was silent at the forest. Something was different, and something had died.

"Nuclear Energy"

by Lucy Wu, Oakland High School


"Nuclear energy is the world's largest source of emission-free energy. Nuclear power plants produce no controlled air pollutants or greenhouse gases. The use of nuclear energy in place of other energy sources helps to keep the air clean, preserve the earth's climate, avoid ground-level ozone formation, and prevent acid rain." - Homepage of the Nuclear Energy Institute.1 I have no doubt that nuclear power is emission free. But, is it doing more harm or potential harm in other ways?

The number one problem with nuclear reactors is the lack of a way to dispose the nuclear waste. We currently have a way to contain them in dry-casks. However, these casks need to be replaced every century or so. The nuclear waste, on the other hand, will remain radioactive for thousands of years. "These dry-casks are roughly 5 meters tall, 2.5 meters in diameter, and weight more than 100 metric tons when loaded."2 An unprotected adult could stand 2 meters from a cask, where the dose rate is 100 mSv per hour, and it would take 10 hours to accumulate the annual dosage permitted by the International Commission on Radiological Protection, in Stockholm Sweden.

"The price tag for a dry-cask installation is about $10 million to $20 million. The casks themselves cost close to $1 million apiece. Each cask can hold 10 to 15 metric tons of spent nuclear material, an amount that would have kept a 1300-MW reactor going for perhaps six or eight months."2 Can't we all agree that this money can go into a safer form of energy production, such as solar power? I haven't done the research on how many solar cells we can produce with this kind of money. Can someone please do so? I'm truly worried. What if a Three Mile Island happens again? What if terrorists decide to fly a plane into a nuclear reactor?

"U.S. nuclear power plants are licensed by the Nuclear Regulatory Commission to operate for 40 years, and can renew their licenses for an additional 20 years. To date, 18 have received license renewal and 33 more are expected to have their licenses renewed. Eventually, virtually all U.S. nuclear plants are expected to apply for license renewal."1 There used to be plenty of protests against these the building, nevermind renewal, of these power plants. I guess Three Mile Island has faded in people's minds and the economic failures are more present.

1 www.nei.gov The Nuclear Energy Institute (NEI)
2 IEEE Spectrum. November 2001. Special Report: Nuclear Power Gets a Second Look

"NATURE VS. MACHINES"

by Anna Kooyman, El Cerrito HS

The sun burns out behind the tangle of metal structures.
They have defeated it, and now the force of nature rests for another day of battle.
I’ll put my money down down on the machines, I think they got the upper hand.
Are you ready for the new world rollin’ up before you?
Pack up your emergency kits and your bibles.
I think we’re headed in for a little danger.
Are you lookin’ at the new world rollin’ up before you?
The sun burns out behind the tangle of metal structures.
They have defeated it, and now the force of nature rests for another day of battle.
I’ll put my money down down on the machines, I think they got the upper hand.
Are you ready for the new world rollin’ up before you?
Pack up your emergency kits and your bibles.
I think we’re headed in for a little danger.
Are you lookin’ at the new world rollin’ up before you?
Are you lookin’ at the new world rollin’ up before you?

Poem

"Time"

By Rebecca Smith, California High School, San Ramon

Time,
A meandering stream,
Outwardly erene,
Sweeping strong currents along.

Time,
A fluttering wing,
Lightly hovering,
Dashing away ever ‘nigh.

Time,
A pulsing cadence,
Full of colorful radiance,
Stealing off one last time.

More Photos

photo       photo

 

"RECYLE OR ELSE"

by Anna Kooyman, El Cerrito HS

I am an empty potato chip bag
Drifting in the wind
I was made in a factory
With thousands of other potato chip bags
Exactly like me
I was brought to Safeway
Where I was put on display
For everyone to examine
Finally someone bought me
They ripped me open
And complained that I was half empty
But puffed full of air to make me look bigger
Then the kid took away my contents
And left me in the street
Eventually a dumpster truck picked me up
And took me to the dump
Where I stayed for billions of years
Until earth became too overly filled with trash
And I was dumped into outer space
I came across a planet full of elephant seals
One tried to eat me
Choked
And died

November Question of the Month

"With recent actions by the ELF and other extreme environmental groups, and threats of extreme attacks, what are your feelings on extremism or eco-terrorism?"

submitted by Jeff Martin, Acalanes HS


Kimberley Schroder, Acalanes HS, Lafayette
"I feel that people can stereotype environmentalists based on extremist actions, and that "eco-terrorism" often hurts more than it helps, although it does the the issue out there, albeit in a negative way."


December's Question of the Month- Let’s hear your answers!

submitted by students at the Student Environmental Leadership Weekend

"As someone who cares about the environment, which environmental issue grabs you the most and why?"

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