Usually this time of year, I would give anything for a sunny day. Or better yet, a sunny week. Spring in Portland is the period when the constant gray sky breaks for a few days and warms your face just enough to fuel you with energy to withstand another week of rain. It’s a “between” season where you can gradually shed your heavy winter sweaters and down coats for lighter sweaters and a light jacket. Maybe, just maybe, you can take that jacket off and sit in the warm sun for an hour or so. It’s a glorious period of time. It’s a period that I missed living in the Mid-Atlantic for a decade where the weather always seemed to skip over Spring and went straight from cold to oppressively hot and humid.
However, this Spring in Portland seemed to have taken notes from the Mid-Atlantic because as I write this, it is 88° Fahrenheit (31°C). It was 94° degrees (34°C) on Saturday. To put those temps in perspective, the average high temperature this time of year ranges anywhere between 65°F (18°C) and 70 (21°C). To put it lightly, it’s not normal. If it’s a day or two of the high temps, it feels like a blip, but this is going on all week. This is alarming, to say the least. This is a region that, historically, doesn’t experience many days about 85°F at any point in the summer.
For me and many others, this extremely early heat wave conjures memories of the June 2021 heat dome where we had three record-breaking days of 110°F+ (43°C) heat. That was an early heat wave and that was over a month later than what we’re experiencing today. For a region not adapted to extreme heat with very few homes equipped with central air-conditioning, it’s profoundly dangerous. It’s especially dangerous for more vulnerable people–the elderly, low-income, and those who have been historically marginalized. And that 2021 heat wave killed 96 people showing the devastation these heat events can have.
This early extreme heat brings on not just the more immediate fear for vulnerable people’s health and well-being, but also a general sense of foreboding for what is to come. I wonder, If it’s so hot right here right now, what is it going to be like 20 years from now?
This was exactly the discussion I had with the checker at the grocery store today. We started out chit-chatting about it suddenly being sundress weather. And then, she says, “it makes me afraid for the future.” And then she apologized for being such a “downer.”
“Funny you say that,” I said, “because I write a newsletter and I’m working on a book about the climate apocalypse.” This opened her up even more and she mentioned how she and her college roommates had to put off moving into their first apartment in September 2020 because the air quality was at 500+ from the massive wildfires in Oregon that season. “I’m 22 and I don’t know what the future will look like,” she said. After I told her I had a six-year-old and I’m afraid for his future, she noted that she doesn’t think she wants kids because the future looks so dim. I totally get it.
I sat in the car for a minute after I left reflecting on that conversation and feeling that extreme heat soaking into my skin. It’s the kind of conversation that hits me in the heart where I start picturing Finch’s future. I wonder and fear and worry about what kind of world my sweet little child will be coming into. It can be hard to move on from those emotions and I can only imagine what the young person at the grocery store is feeling where it truly is their future at stake. Yet it’s also heartening to know the clarity around which she sees it.
I was her age 20 years ago (holy shit, writing that makes me feel old). I don’t think I had the same sense of clarity around the future. I was a 22 year-old stuck in a privileged, White bubble just about to head out into the world where it would be so beautifully popped. But it would still be decades before the reality around the health of our planet became clear. And yet it feels too late. But it’s not too late.
As it happens, I’m also currently reading Britt Wray’s “Generation Dread: Finding Purpose in an Age of Climate Crisis.” It’s a book that evokes sitting with the idea of climate grief–acknowledging but also warning not to get dragged down by it. Wray grapples with the White privilege of that type of anxiety where those of us whose very being hasn’t been constantly challenged because we live in a society built for our comfort. As a young person of color, I imagine the checker at the store has more understanding of the apocalyptic nature of our world–both on a societal and an environmental level–than many White folks my age. Yet, even though all seems so dire, she had this joyful presence. It’s an example of needing to embody all the emotions. As such, she’s an example of how we must all push through the fear that this heat brings and find reasons for hope and action. That is part of what helps us move forward is looking at where positive change is happening and to help be a part of the change.
And there are positive signs of change, some spurred by the last heat wave. Oregon Public Radio’s climate reporter, Monica Samayoa, reported recently how the region learned from that 2021 heat wave and has taken quick action to adapt to regular extreme heat events in the region. She noted that funding through the Portland Clean Energy Fund installed over 3,000 AC and heat pump units with the majority of them being installed in homes East of 82nd Avenue in Portland, which is the region most vulnerable to heat (thanks to historic racism and disinvestment in low-income neighborhoods). The program expects to install 15,000 by 2026.
While this is important, there’s still so much to do to help the region adapt and to ensure that the most vulnerable residents are affected. In fact, the Building Resilience Coalition in Oregon is a group of climate justice advocates and climate concerned organizations working together to address the effects of climate change through legislation specifically to address the gap in climate resilience. An organization I work with, Families for Climate, is one of those partners in the coalition. Building Resilience is working now to advocate for the passage of several climate bills, one of which is the Health Heating & Cooling for All bill that is meant to provide funding to help shore up weather resilience for low-income households across the state.
It’s these moments of action that are necessary to focus on in order to keep going. There are positive things happening. The heat and the other extreme weather events must be seen as warnings, though. We can’t just see them as blips. And we’re lucky to have people and coalitions working to ensure that we don’t just remark about how alarming this early heat wave might seem and then move on. Rather, we acknowledge it, we share in the fear about it, and then we use it as a way to create a more resilient world.
And here’s a little climate action opportunity for Portlanders:
In case you’re a Portland resident, Families for Climate is holding their first in-person General Meeting this Sunday, May 21st from 10am-12pm at the Parallax Art Center (516 NW 15th Ave). This organization is doing incredible work to mobilize caregivers and their kids to engage in climate justice work. There’s true power in collective action, especially when it’s centered around joy, love, and care for all. You can RSVP to the event here.
Here is Germany, we have one week warm and another week chilly. I sometimes have to wear my winter coat 😲. Climate change is not only making the planet warmer but also giving unstable weather.
Very scary indeed... I remember spending a summer in Portland ten years ago. I slept in a tent all summer and it was just the most delightful weather the whole time. I can’t believe that it was 92 degrees this weekend!