What if the oil spill happened here in Michigan?
The current oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico is such a large disaster, and the fact that there still doesn’t seem to be an end in sight is a scary thing for me. The site linked above allows you to virtually move the spill wherever you want to. If it was on land, it would span the entire width of Michigan.
When I saw it on Lake Superior, I was really saddened. To think that all lake superior’s fisheries and ecosystems would be annihilated brings it a little closer to home for me, and makes me really sad for the people down south.
I do wonder how much more the Earth can take in terms of humans messing it up. In my heart, I know that the rock will probably survive, no matter what we do. In fact, even if the world went into a nuclear winter or something, some life would probably be able to survive somewhere. However, humanity and much of the rest of the world’s ecosystems would not. And for what? So that we could drive to our jobs, run machinery to make buildings, fly from one end of the world to other, or maybe to go into space. All these things are amazing inventions and were completely unknown a few centuries ago, but surely there’s some way to do it that isn’t at so very dear of a cost.
I also know that a portion of the blame is my own. I’ve unknowingly helped contribute to this disaster by my consumerism. How much crude oil have I used in my semi-short lifetime, between driving a car, buying plastic items, things in plastic packaging, etc? Probably more than I’d care to actually find out. We have separated and compartmentalized the refining/development of products to such a degree, I as a consumer don’t know and don’t care (in general) how it was produced. I just pay the greenbacks and say, “Thank you very much.” So, I don’t blame BP, the government, or any of those other non-humans. I blame the likes of you and I. But, the real question is: How do we change this?
I don’t know the answers, and I don’t know much. But I do know that I’m sad for the people who have to deal with the spill in their own backyards. And of course, in thinking of the people who are/will suffer because of these things, my mind immediately went to a song (as the ole mind is wont to do):
I was born under the star, never meant to journey far
From all the faces and the place that I called home;
And my father lived the same, and his father before him,
But now I see in my son’s eyes something has changed.
And the smoke it has stopped rising from the chimney up the road,
And the light no longer shines over the door;
Last year I lent a hand to haul the boats onto the land,
They’ve been lying there for nineteen months or more,
And I wonder will they lie there evermore?
Wasn’t many years ago that the men ’round here would go
Out in their skiffs and haul their traps out on the bay;
And then shortly they’d return loaded down from stem to stern,
And weigh off the fish, and store their gear away.
Now the waters are as barren as the cliffs that guard the cove
And catch the north wind blowing off the shore;
And I wonder how an ocean turns as lifeless as a stone,
And I wonder can the sea revive once more?
And I wonder will they lie there evermore?
Well, I hear some people say we’d be better off to stay
Ashore and train for jobs outside the fishery;
Now wouldn’t I look like a fool to go traipsing off to school,
After forty years of living off the sea?
Now, my son, he’s barely twenty-one, and handy at the trawl,
For years he helped me fish the Labrador;
Now he’s moving to Ontario before the first snowfall,
“Dad, there’s nothing left for me ’round here no more.”
And I wonder will I see his children born?
And I wonder will they lie there evermore?
~John Phippard
