Tipping Point
“We do tend to keep going as if putting tin cans in the recycle bin will somehow be enough.”
“Look Moira. Like every-one else, you’re not disagreeing with the facts I’m presenting, are you?” When Moira hesitated, Annie continued. “Am I wrong about climate change?”
“No. But . . .”
“Of all people I would have thought you would understand. You live so modestly and sustainably. Your farm is organic and you use local organic produce in the cafe. Your commitment to ethical living is inspirational.”
“And you’ve given up your living to stand on street corners and preach!”
“I’m not preaching on the corner, Mozz. That’d be silly. I’m right in the middle of the park,” Annie’s attempt at a light-hearted tone failed.
“Right. So you just go up and talk to total strangers instead.”
“I have to do something. Maybe this isn’t the right thing to do, but it’s a start. People change one at a time. Only how can they change if no-one bothers to explain the need to them?
“I just have to do this. I can’t ignore this feeling in my gut. Sometimes it gets so strong, like when I saw that plume of smoke in front of the main fire cloud on Black Saturday; I knew it was too close to home. The radio and the web-site said the fire was still at Kilmore, but the fire was closing fast and I knew I had to run. I only feared that I hadn’t left it too late. I had to run, so I did.” She paused. “When I close my eyes I see holocaust. I can’t just sit by and let it happen. I have to do this. We can’t let this beautiful world burn and die.”
“No. You can’t, can you Annie?” Moira responded. “Except the world’s run by greedy sods who don’t care who gets hurt, just so long as they can line their own pockets. They’re not going to man up and admit it’s their fault! You’re just going to waltz up to them with their heads in the sand and tell’em to stop talking through their arses, are you?”
Annie laughed, then corrected her friend. “No. Not me, Mozz. I’m too polite. And besides, it’s not about blame. Somehow we need to start afresh and just do the right thing.”
“Ya bloody hippy! You’re gonna start chanting ‘Give peace a chance’ and the whole world will go warm and fuzzy and agree to play nicely? Not likely.”
The women stood, face to face, as they spoke. Now Moira reached forward and hugged her friend. “You really believe in what you’re doing, and I can’t tell you you’re wrong. You’re trying to save us from ourselves.” She took a deep breath before continuing, holding Annie’s shoulders and peering into her face. “I just fear for you. What will you do if this doesn’t work?”
“What will the world do?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m only on leave without pay, Mozz. I can go back again; they’ve already set out the welcome mat. That’s if I haven’t been locked up and certified criminally insane.” Moira joined Annie’s laughter.
“Don’t worry. I’ll come and get you out.”
“Thanks.’
“What are friends for?”
“Not sure. I’m just waiting for you to pull out a bag of rotten fruit and start pelting the lunatic in the park.”
“Why would I do that? Waste of good chook food.”
Annie stayed on duty for a time.
“Hi there. I’m Annie. What are you doing to save the world?”
“F*** off.”
It was time to go home.
Chapter Nine: The Muslim
“Hello. My name’s Annie. What are you doing to save the world?”
“What do you want?”
“Global warming is endangering us all. I want you to think about ways that you can help.”
“Look, here’s ten bucks. Bye.”
“No . . . No, I don’t want your money.”
Annie stared after the man, stunned. He had walked away rapidly, leaving her with the ten-dollar note in her hand.
It’s all about money, isn’t it? she found herself thinking. Greed for money had led to exploitation of the natural world. Respect for people who had accumulated vast sums of money meant that government decisions perpetuated the destruction that threatened the integrity of the environment. And every-one thought you could fix problems by throwing money at them.
It’s just too difficult isn’t it? No-one is prepared to simply stop. Stop doing those things which are causing the damage. Annie thought of the information she had seen recently; the controversy over whether government agencies had been involved in spraying chemicals into the atmosphere that were intended to reverse global warming.
This “geo-forming” sounded scary. There were already reports that forests in areas that had been sprayed were dying; and suggestions that the process was not effective anyway. And governments denied that it was happening.
But people keep looking to science to cook up a solution, something to fix the world. What happened to good old common sense? Why not just stop doing the things that are causing the trouble in the first place? “Business won’t allow it because it might affect their profits. That’s why,” Annie muttered to herself as she tucked the ten-dollar note into her pocket. There was usually someone collecting for the Salvos at the station.
“Hello, I’m Annie. What are you doing to save the world?”
“It’s in a bad way, isn’t it? Do you think we can save the world?”
“I have to believe it is still possible.”
“Well good luck. I’ll be cheering you on.”
“Thank-you. Perhaps the web-sites on this leaflet will give you some good ideas.”
“Thanks. See you.”
“Hello. My name’s Annie. What are you doing to save the world?”
“The best thing we could do for the world is get rid of you bloody greenies!”
“Hello. My name’s Annie. What are you doing to save the world?”
“You know,” responded the young man in the military camouflage outfit, “if the resources that are going into weaponry and warfare were being put into peace, I’d never get to join the army.”
“We might have a chance to save the world, though.” Annie was hopeful as she handed him a leaflet.
“Hello. My name’s Annie. What are you doing to save the world?”
The woman hesitated, then gestured to the empty half of her park bench. “Hello Annie. My name is Adila. I try to live sustainably because I’m very concerned about global warming. Is that what concerns you?”
Annie was glad to sit – she had been walking and talking since early morning, without a proper break for lunch.
“Yes. I’ve been spending my time trying to encourage people to do more. I’m worried that unless people are prepared to change the way they live, it will be too late – we will not be able to stop the damage that will make the earth uninhabitable for human beings.”
“Your concerns are shared by many. Nature's balance and harmony have been fractured by profit-driven corporations – but we must all take responsibility for the environmental disasters that confront us today.” As Adila replied, Annie took note of her traditional outfit. The dress covered her from her wrists to her feet. Her hair was covered by a scarf of a matching colour.
“You’re a practising Muslim?” asked Annie.
“Yes.”
“What does your religion say about the environment?”
“The three central concepts of Islam are tawhid, khalifah and akhirah; that is unity, trusteeship and accountability. They are the basic values taught by the Qur'an. We see humans as stewards of creation, guardians of it. Nature has been given to humans for safekeeping, not to ruthlessly exploit in any way we wish. If we don't care for our world, we will be one day held in judgement by Allah for not fulfilling our responsibility; for not being good trustees of creation.”
“You sound so passionate. Are you an environmentalist?”
“I don’t think I could be anything else,” she replied with a chuckle.
“I joined the Greens and I’ve been doing some volunteer work with local groups. The whole family goes along to tree-planting days – my children love it.”
“So you’re doing your bit to save the world!”
“Yes, but it has to be more than just belonging to the right group. We try to live ethically.”
“How do you do that?”
“There are lots of different things. When I buy food I won’t buy anything that has come from overseas and I try to use produce that is grown locally. We have reduced the amount of meat we eat and grow many of our own veggies. We use public transport and have tried to reduce the amount of energy we use in our household. Our clothes often come from second-hand shops.”
She paused, thoughtful. “The hardest thing can be the children. They don’t really understand why they don’t have all the new gadgets that their friends do. But I refuse to replace a phone or a computer that is still working perfectly well. My eldest daughter, poor thing – she is in high school now. I fear she is a victim of the materialism of the media. She wants her belongings to be up-to-date and in fashion, but horrid old Mum won’t buy her the latest phone or let her wear make-up.”
“How old is she?”
“Fourteen.”
“It’s a tough age for everybody.”
“Mmm.” The woman adjusted her head scarf. “If we are going to save the world, everybody will have to make changes to the way they live,” she said gently. “As a refugee I saw such suffering. This country gave us a home – we have been so fortunate to escape.”
“I’m sorry,” said Annie, touched by the emotion in her voice. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”
“The worst times are past for us. We were lucky. But I fear for the future. If climate change is not reversed there will be so much more suffering.” She lifted her head and gazed around at the people enjoying the gardens. “So many people here behave as though they can be touched by nothing. I think life has been so easy for them that they cannot imagine a world where everything they want is not provided.”
“And they’re encouraged by a media telling them that buying stuff will make them feel good and will benefit the rest of their community,” agreed Annie.
“Consumption is not just about buying stuff at the store,” responded Adila. “It has a history. Where did the natural resources come from - a metal mine in Africa run by child labour? How were they put together - a sweatshop with workers barely making a living wage? Where did they end up - in a toxic landfill near an ecologically blighted community?”
“You have such a broad understanding of what is happening!”
“Many of the sweat shops are in countries that exploit Muslims. Unfortunately many Muslims see environmentalism as still another form of Western control, intended to keep Islam from developing and Muslims from realizing their economic potential. There is so much hatred for the West, yet I see that ordinary people here are also trapped by this system.”
“Yes,” said Annie sadly, watching men in suits stride towards a road that was flooded with noisome vehicles. “Surely people must know that consumerism is killing the world . . . but they’re having too much fun and they don’t want to stop.”
“People don’t like to be told to stop, do they?”
“No,” laughed Annie.
“In Islamic tradition, it is a blessed act to plant a tree even one day before the end of the world.” The women’s eyes met. “Don’t give up,” said Adila, grasping Annie’s hand. “The Qur’an says, ‘Do no mischief on the earth after it has been set in order, but call on him with fear and longing in your hearts: for the Mercy of God is always near to those who do good.’ I think you are trying to do good.”
“Thank-you,” said Annie, moved by this woman’s words. After a moment she continued. “Your words, your view of the world, are hard to reconcile with the view of Muslims that often appears in the media. In the news we see terrorism and war.”
“It is sad, isn’t it? And that minority of Muslims unfortunately have such an impact on the lives of many, not least by colouring the way that the world views us. Most Muslims are just ordinary, peace-loving people who wish only to be able to take part in their community with honour and tolerance.” Adila hesitated, her mouth narrowing and her eyes downcast. “Sometimes people spit at me when I go past in the street, or they swear at me.” She looked up at Annie, pleading, “I do not deserve this!”
It was Annie’s turn to offer comfort. “No, you don’t. There are many thoughtless and bigoted people in the world. They fear what they can’t be bothered trying to understand; they see a stereotype instead of a person.”
“It is my clothes, isn’t it? I cannot become accustomed to your Western style of clothes, though, and the more I see in the media the less I want to be a part of the attitudes to women I see portrayed. There is such a narrow idea of what a beautiful woman is – it all seems designed to make women feel bad about themselves. Then that feeling is exploited by companies selling beauty: in new fashions, cosmetics and even surgery.” Adila was outraged. “They do not care about women’s well-being – they just want to make money.”
“Yet so many of us work ourselves into an outrage at the treatment of women in Islamic countries.”
“There is much there about which you can be outraged,” said Adila wearily. “Part of the reason we came to this country was so that our daughters could be educated and free to choose their own lives. But there is still sexism here. Please do not misunderstand me – it is not as bad as in the old country. I have met so many kind and caring men and women. I have also met men who would be at home among the worst Muslim extremists.”
“I doubt there are many places in the world where it is easy to be a woman,” commented Annie.
“There are many battles being fought in the world. I do not think the wars with guns and killing are as important as the battle to urge people to change – to try to bring about a better future. There are many who wish to see an end to sexism and racism: there are many who fight for human rights and social justice.” Adila turned to Annie. “There are many who fight to save our environment so that our children have a future.”
“I just hope we are not too late,” replied Annie sadly.
“I must go now,” said Adila, checking her watch and rising from the seat. “Please, do not give up.” She smiled. “Peace be upon you.”
“Thank-you Adila. Good-bye.”
When the small film crew arrived, Annie’s first instinct was to run. There was no demonstration in the park today and the members of the crew kept looking in her direction.
Deciding to ignore them, she continued with her task.
“Excuse me. What are you doing to save the world?”
“Oh shit. Not another bloody greenie. Leave me alone would you?”
“We all need to act to stop climate change.”
“If you don’t leave me alone I’ll call the cops.”
Annie gave him a leaflet, then looked around for someone else to talk to. As she did so she realized that she was being approached by the woman holding a microphone. Behind her was a man with a video camera on his shoulder, flanked by an efficient looking woman browsing her computer tablet as she walked.
“Hello,” said the well-groomed presenter, the microphone pointing to the ground at her side. “I’m Stephanie White from Channel Six News. Perhaps you’ve seen me on television?”
“Umm, no,” said Annie.
“Well, we’d like to interview you for an item on tonight’s news.”
“Why?” asked Annie.
“We’ve heard about what you’ve been doing here. Our program has been doing weekly segments on the environment since the United Nations climate talks at the end of last year. We would like to present your case.”
“Why?” repeated Annie.
Ms White now looked confused. “We had heard that you are asking people what they’re doing to save the worl
d – trying to motivate people to change their lives. We can provide you with a much larger audience than you can speak to in this park.”
“What if I don’t want to be interviewed?”
“But . . . why not?” In a world where every-one craved their fifteen minutes of fame, Stephanie White was not prepared for Annie’s reluctance.
“Because you’re part of a media I don’t trust. Apart from ethical objections to consorting with the enemy, how do I know you won’t edit and twist my words so that I sound like a raving looney?”
The woman with the computer now stepped forward. “I understand your concerns. Would it reassure you to know that our news team has persuaded management to take a stance supporting the environmental movement? We want to present inspirational pieces that will make people think about what they can do to help the planet.”
“Seriously?” Annie looked at the three faces turned towards her. They were open and hopeful. Realising that nothing had been recorded yet, that the crew had some respect for her wishes, Annie prepared to leap into the unknown. Perhaps they were right. Perhaps people might be more inclined to listen to someone who had been on TV. Perhaps this would be a good way to reach people.
“Okay then,” she said. “I’ll probably regret this, but I suppose it can’t hurt. You promise you’ll try to make me look good?”
The people facing her nodded, all smiles. The camera-man organised his equipment and did a sound check with the presenter. Annie was rather nervous, clearing her throat and running a hand through her hair.
“Are you all ready?” asked the serious woman. She looked around briefly, then arranged Annie and the presenter so that they were standing with trees for a background. “Begin,” she commanded.
Annie’s train was late. She walked through her front door five minutes after the Channel Six news had begun. Dropping everything on the kitchen table, she turned on the television and watched.
The news items were the usual cheerless bunch: scandal in Canberra, economic disaster, famine and tribal conflict in Africa, war in the Middle East. Just before the sports report was the article Annie had been hoping to see.