(A little late is better than never, right?) :)

Even as a less-than-seasoned political activist on environmental issues, in recent years I have noticed myself becoming more and more pessimistic about the hope of my own efforts making any real difference on the many issues related to climate change and environmental and social injustice. As I became more aware of the scope of the problems, I began to adopt the cynicism of someone who is not satisfied with the small, incremental changes that seem to be the only progress one can attain politically. I felt, to use Ani Difranco’s lyrics, as if I was “tracking each trickle back to its source and screaming up the faucet ‘til my face was hoarse ‘cause I was surrounded by a world’s worth of things I just couldn’t excuse.” I don’t think that I am the only person who has let their political activism fall to the wayside for this reason. In fact, from talking with other people about these issues, I suspect that many caring people never become active to begin with because of similar feelings of powerlessness.
This past weekend, however, I had a very inspirational experience. I joined some members of various environmental action groups on a trip to the coalfields of southern West Virginia. What I learned and saw in one day, though it was like standing at Goliath’s feet and staring up at the enormity of the adversary, gave my spirit a breath of hope and direction and this is why: I realized that the coal industry in West Virginia, though before it seemed to be just one of the many faucets I could be screaming into, is an appropriate target. It is the right place to start.
I saw, from atop a mountain that was only saved by the impenetrable will of one good man, the vast devastation of the entire surrounding area. I choked on the dust clouds that fantastically giant machines created as they bulldozed great swaths of the earth out of their way. I saw how few men, how few jobs, it took to run these machines and cause so much damage. I saw a “reclaimed” abandoned site that had all the appearance of an active mine, only with some unnatural grass sprayed over it like a thin layer of paint. I saw a coal treatment plant, the kind that claims to make coal “clean” by putting it through a chemical wash, immediately beside an elementary school where it’s dust settles right over top of them and the leftover toxic sludge from the cleansing remains a threat behind an earthen damn with the school at its base. I saw the empty shop windows in the towns of former coal miners whose jobs vanished as quickly as their landscapes.
I was also given the opportunity to watch a documentary about the history of coal in this state, a film called “Coal Country,” which detailed the arguments on both sides of this heated debate. I found out that approximately 50% of the greenhouse gas emissions in this country are due to coal. I learned that even after the process that the coal industry propaganda calls “Clean Coal Technology,” coal is still the biggest source of air and water pollution there is. I learned that since mountaintop removal has come to West Virginia, coal mining jobs have decreased to just 10% of what they were previously, with a mere 15,000 temporary jobs remaining, though Big Coal would have us believe that our entire economy is in their hands. I learned more about the viability of wind energy on the very same ridgelines that are in danger of being hacked away. I realized that virtually all of the issues that I care deeply enough to be active about (social inequality and injustice, the stranglehold mega-corporations can have on government policy and social opinion, irreparable damage to the land and wildlife, the destruction of the very habitats of the human beings that live in these areas, not to mention the disease caused by the pollution of the air and water and impending climate change) are embodied best in this one local, unethical practice.
Stopping mountaintop removal is the right fight to pick if one must pick their battles, which it seems we must, not just for these reasons but also because it is something to focus on. It's something close to home so if any progress is made, one can see real, measurable changes (e.g. this ridge-line and that community were saved because this one permit wasn't granted, etc.) which is just the positive reinforcement one would need to maintain course and not get demoralized.
I urge anyone who is against this practice (which I’m sure includes anyone on this site who may read this) to push aside your pessimism and commit to at least one action. If you haven’t done so already, one important and easy step is to call your representatives in government. They need to know that the people of West Virginia will stand behind them if they act in opposition to Big Coal. We can make a difference. With a majority on our side, all we need is more people to do something beyond holding an opinion.