My life has changed dramatically in the past 6-1/2 months. I’ve gone from ignorant of/in denial about/blind to all issues nuclear-related into a 24/7/365 activist on the issues. I’ve spoken in public, posted videos, addressed the NRC (in a rogue kind of way; they didn’t want participation but I participated anyway), begun producing a weekly podcast on nuclear issues, put a bumper sticker on my car, a button on the strap of my purse, and created resource materials for anyone who wants to follow this issue on their own.
I realize that this make me… hmmm, obnoxious? Difficult? Socially unacceptable? … to some people. I’m simply NOT the woman they knew “before.”
Exactly. “Before” means before Fukushima, which was my wake-up call. But buried deep inside was a more authentic me, one that used to care about issues, take an activist stance, work with government and public, and do what I could to make what I deemed would be a positive difference in the world. I stopped doing this work after Three Mile Island, because the pain I experienced made it impossible to focus on anything outside of myself. I kept to that path, with a few exceptions, because that’s what seemed to be in front of me — least resistance, personal growth, business building, like that.
Now that the blinders are off, I cannot go back into that somnambulant state. I feel like I’ve been called to battle in the fight of my life, for the right of life on earth to continue unmolested from the horrors of radiation and mutation. I do this work because I can’t NOT do it. If I can make one iota’s bit of difference in the outcome on this issue, how dare I not do so? If by withholding my voice we go over the nuclear edge and into the abyss of nightmares and the end of life as we’ve known it, I will have committed a crime against humanity, my karma and my soul.
This, I refuse to do.
Last night, I spoke at a local library. Because of weather issues (Rain! In Southern California! In October! We’re all gonna melt!), the turnout consisted of one woman who just happened to be at the library by accident, not intent. But I spoke to that one woman, and before I was done she’d become an activist as well, wanting more information and committed to helping in whatever way she can.
This is how the future gets changed: one person, one mind at a time. Make no mistake: our genetic future is at stake. The consequences of inaction will make themselves known in irreversible ways. By then, it will be too late… but right now, it is not too late and we still have the chance to turn this thing around.
So come join me in this battle, as other battles are being joined all over the planet. Speak out – anywhere, everywhere. The way out of despair and anger is to take an action, any action. I suggest them in my weekly podcast, Nuclear Hotseat; I post about them on Facebook under Nuclear Hotseat (a group page; I’ll make it a fan page when I can figure it out); and I will continue to speak about them in public. Yes, I am that obnoxious – albeit well dressed – activist who won’t shut up, who reminds you that the nuclear dangers are real and we’re only a whisker away from facing a situation from which we will never be able to recover.
Let’s work together to make certain that never happens. I welcome the joining of your voice to all the others.