I Failed to Save the World. — Lynna Odel
Now my poem is in a book about how we’ll do it together.
In January 2019, I was hired by a start-up developing technology to reduce greenhouse gas emissions. I felt called, like I’d been led to that moment from my college homework to failed doctorate to awful jobs, and I threw myself into the work. For the first time, I was on fire with passion for my career.
It took about six months for disillusionment to creep in and another three for things to start coming apart. After a year, the company dissolved. Of course, there were many reasons the business didn’t succeed. All that mattered to me, though, was that I hadn’t saved the world even though I’d tried really, really hard.
I had begun following the work of women climate leaders just before I got the start-up job. Between investor pitches and proposal drafts, I listened to podcasts and audiobooks that approached climate change as a communal and moral problem rather than as a broken machine to repair. Through this crash course in environmental justice, I accidentally found a place to land when I tumbled from my Climate Savior pedestal later that year.
One evening in November 2019, I washed dishes while I mused over my inability to rescue my family from a difficult future. Words arrived behind my eyes and I rearranged them. When I finished drying the dinner pots, I typed that poem directly into Twitter, tagging several of the women whose work had inspired it. This is not how I usually do creative writing — I use notebooks or my ancient laptop, along with a giant brick eraser or heavy backspace finger.
I thought almost no one would see it. I was astonished to receive kind replies and deeply personal direct messages. I’d expected to start a friendly conversation or possibly be mocked for my lack of skill. Instead, “climate Twitter” reached through the screen to hug me.
I didn’t suddenly become a professional or knowledgeable poet. If asked to recite in verse, the only non-Bible stanzas I know are by Emily Dickinson. I did not become a famous Internet influencer, either. My anonymity remained post-poem, but I did find the best online friends in cyberspace.
Awhile later, Dr. Ayana Johnson and Dr. Katharine Wilkinson asked whether they could print the poem in an anthology of essays by women climate leaders. It was surreal to be contacted by heroes about a fluke expression of my emotions. When I learned the names of the contributors to All We Can Save, I sat down on the floor. So many of them belonged to the constellation of creators, writers, and activists who taught me to face climate change without despair. I felt like I was in a dream.
In most rooms, I believe in introducing any elephants hanging around. Here’s one: my poem’s existence in print near Alice Walker’s and Joy Harjo’s is absurd. This is not modesty. I know I’m smart and good at many things, including Excel spreadsheets and baking banana brown sugar cake. I am not, however, a poet of well-deserved stature.
The people guiding All We Can Save, it turns out, enjoy this type of absurdity. I have never encountered a group so impressive and welcoming at the same time. Truly inclusive feminism eschews hierarchy, hero-worship, and gatekeeping. I knew this in theory but had never experienced it in institutional practice.
If a failure without credentials can be of use to this kind of climate movement, then so can you. You don’t have to finish a fancy degree or become an artistic genius to help us build a beautiful future. You just have to find a way to show up for others with honesty and humility. We have community building, healing, and good work to do together. Come join us.
Order a Book and Join a Circle!
All We Can Save will be released on 9.22.20, and you can pre-order your copy now.
The book will be an amazing read, of course, but it will also be a wide-open door to this community. There are free discussion guides and other bonuses planned to launch a network of discussion groups, or “circles,” all across the world!
I will lead a virtual circle here in Alabama, and I can’t wait to start this good work. I hope you’ll consider doing the same, or finding a circle to join yourself as the book launch date approaches.
Originally published at https://lynnaodel.com on August 19, 2020.
