Whoa. It has been too long since I have written. Even though I was in West Virginia for only a few days, it took many more than a few days after I returned to absorb all the experiences I had and to get back on track.

As you can see from my picture, the march on Blair Mountain was both exhausting and exhilarating. Friends have asked questions about the march and issues related to it, so I have tried to continue my own education.

For example, I have been learning more about what the process of mountain top removal (MTR) actually involves - how it is done and what happens to the nearby environment and people during and after the MTR. There are several steps to the MTR process: 

• clearing all topsoil and plants - that alone sounds painful and bleak
• blasting through 500-800 feet of mountain surface to reach the seam of coal 
• digging and removing coal and debris with a huge machine which actually does the work that in the past was done by people
• dumping waste, known as overburden or spoil, into valleys and stream beds - typically filling or burying the streams
• processing - or washing and treating - the coal, creating waste water, known as slurry or sludge, which is then stored in impoundments that are often open, poorly supported and unstable ... slurry is made of a mixture of water, coal dust, clay, and toxic chemicals including arsenic, mercury, lead, copper, and chromium
• reclamation which is supposed to involve stabilization of the land and revegetation ... a not very closely monitored or regulated process

Below is a photo of an Appalachian mountain - followed by a photo of the mountain post-MTR - followed by a different "reclaimed mountain." What do you think?

What are the effects of this devastation, really? 

The drastic changes to the landscape increase flooding (which includes runoff that contains toxic chemicals). The ongoing blasting associated with MTR damages the foundations of homes, property values, and quality of life. Blasting also randomly sends boulders and debris down onto yards in the communities below the MTR sites, creating safety risks. Slurry and sludge poison drinking water and increase realities of disease in nearby communities. These are immediate and short-term changes.

Let's look to the past, then far into the future. In 2009, the Smithsonian Magazine reported that...

Since the mid-1990s, coal companies have pulverized Appalachian mountaintops in West Virginia, Kentucky, Virginia and Tennessee. Peaks formed hundreds of millions of years ago are obliterated in months. Forests that survived the last ice age are chopped down and burned. The Environmental Protection Agency estimates that by 2012, two decades of mountaintop removal will have destroyed or degraded 11.5 percent of the forests in those four states, an area larger than Delaware. Rubble and waste will have buried more than 1,000 miles of streams.

The rate and scope of this destruction is incredibly short-sighted. Centuries of work by Mother Earth gone and, on top of that, toxic substances introduced into what is left. Without extensive intervention, this threatens much needed biodiversity (all of life is interconnected and interdependent for survival) and causes harm to the health and well-being of plants, humans, and other animals for hundreds of years to come. 

And no intervention can truly re-create what has been destroyed - particularly the culture of the mountain people in the communities affected by MTR. I witnessed the strength and integrity of the people from Appalachia at the march - outspoken, impassioned, but respectful and honest.

Hazel Dickens fought MTR - she was one beautiful voice rising from Appalachia. She was to have performed at the Blair Mountain March but, sadly, passed away in April before the March.

More later... in the meantime, let me know what you think.

From March on Blair Mountain:

We march to preserve Blair Mountain, abolish mountaintop removal, strengthen labor rights, and an investment in sustainable job creation for all Appalachian communities.The March on Blair Mountain is a peaceful, unifying rally involving environmental justice organizations, workers, scholars, artists, and other citizens and groups. The march commemorates the 90th anniversary of the Battle of Blair Mountain in 1921, when 10,000 coal miners rose against the rule of the coal operators and fought for the basic right to live and work in decent conditions. Currently, Blair Mountain is threatened with obliteration by mountaintop removal (MTR) mining, and it is here that a new generation of Appalachians takes a stand.

In the spirit of the original march–which consisted of mountain peoples, African-Americans, and immigrants from all over Europe–we reach out to a diversity of groups to march in solidarity for the workers, communities and mountains of Appalachia. If you stand with us, you are one of us — a true mountaineer.

Lots of good stuff is happening in West Virginia as I write. Visit these sites for current news about the March on Blair Mountain:

• Kentuckians for the Commonwealth
• Kentucky Rising (on Facebook)
• March on Blair Mountain

We have had beautiful weather in Pittsburgh this week - great for hiking, walking, and biking, and just sitting and listening to the birds. It is raining heavily today - hope the marchers in WV are staying dry.

I am planning to go to the last two days of this event - going for a training session on Friday and the march up the mountain and rally on Saturday. In preparation, I have been reading the 2008 Silas House/Jason Howard book - Something's Rising: Appalachians Fighting Mountaintop Removal - through interviews with and stories of many mountain people, I am learning and remembering a lot. 

My brothers and sisters and I used to spend some weeks each summer in Lynch, KY, the site of the highest mountain in KY - Big Black Mountain - where my parents grew up and my grandparents lived. Half of Big Black Mountain is in Lynch, KY and half is in VA. The half that is in VA has been decimated by mountain top removal. The people of Lynch and nearby Cumberland and Benham are fighting the forces of A and G coal to preserve their part of Big Black Mountain.

I think about Lynch a lot. I remember the smell of coal dust - not unpleasant, but what did I know? - and the rattling sound of coal-carrying trains, and the sights of the miners clomping up the road in their heavy boots at the end of a shift, white eyes in coal-darkened faces, some as young as 14 or 15. I also remember, back in the mid-late 1960s, seeing the separate bath houses labeled for "colored" and "white" miners. 

Although my older brother and I were born in Lynch, our family moved away from Harlan County when my father entered the University of KY to study engineering, funded by the GI Bill. Lexington was a big city compared to Lynch. I often wonder what this change was like for my mom - who eventually was the  mother of five children. I wonder what it was like for her to move from such a small town, far away from her home, friends (who are close friends to this day), and parents - to a city with bluegrass and softly rolling hills, a city that was so different in culture and topography than her mountainous home. 

In my childhood, the only way to get back to Lynch for a visit was over twisty mountain roads, torture for this little girl who was prone to car-sickness (particularly when adults smoked cigarettes and cigars - oh, how times have changed! no seat belts then either - all five of us climbing back and forth over seats, elbowing and stepping on one another). 

In college, I came across Yesterday's People: Life in Contemporary Appalachia (1965),  by Jack Weller. This was written about Appalachia pre-cable TV -- actually, probably, pre-access to much TV at all - the signals just couldn't come in. This was written when many people actually did live up in the hollers. It was fascinating to read Weller's ideas about tendencies of children in the mountains to express stress and anxiety psycho-somatically - through tummy aches and headaches - particularly when the worry was about separation from home and family. 

Makes sense when you think that many of the people had not ever traveled much outside of their small community or county. I could certainly identify with that. Our homes, where we have grown from deeply-planted roots, really shape who we are. 

Makes me wonder about what it would be like NOT to have deep roots in a particular place. Do you then root yourself into something that is different, that you can carry with you wherever you go? What or where would that be?

Oops - off track here! I am really looking forward to my trip later this week, and I will let you know how it goes. Hope to have stories and pictures to share.

I love the print posted here, called simply Work. Ford Madox Brown, an English painter, depicts English folks at work during the mid-Victorian era (~mid-19th century). What strikes me about this scene is the people - work involved bumping up against, talking or arguing with, sweating beside people.

I browsed Google for other images of work -- so many of them were focused on computers, desks, chairs - and often there were no people included at all! I looked at several dictionaries for definitions of "work" - the first definition in most volumes was about effort - "activity involving mental or physical effort done in order to achieve a purpose or result" from Merriam-Webster. I guess computers and other machines "work" - but to me, effort is a purposeful phenomenon, complete with choices and behaviors, most often done by humans or other animals. What do you think?

I remember something that my anthropology professor at Transylvania University said -- that, throughout history, most of human effort has gone toward figuring out how to work less. True or not? 

Why do we work? Do we work primarily to earn money for food, clothes, shelter, medical care, and some extras? Is it one of the ways that we find meaning in our lives? Is it something that we do that contributes to the well-being of others? All or none of the above?

I love my work for which I am paid. I do find meaning in it, and I get pleasure and satisfaction from it. It helps me support myself and the family. And I believe/hope that it contributes to the well-being of others outside of my family. Most of all, I love (most of) the people I work with. We may not sweat much or bump up against each other, but we do talk, argue, and, thankfully, laugh a lot. I do admit that some of the time work is work - it is hard. But I am always grateful for the job that I have and the work that I feel called to do.

Do you feel secure in your work - your job or career? We are living in times when things don't feel so secure. Unemployment figures for the last month were just released a couple of days ago - and it wasn't good news. It's hard not to feel some anxiety or worry - or even anger - when reading news about the national work scene.

A different question - do you feel safe at work? Is your work setting physically safe? Emotionally safe? Does your work involve risks or dangers for you, your community, or society?

The March on Blair Mountain, happening today into next weekend, is in large part about work - people are gathering to advocate for safe, fairly-compensated, humane work that does not harm their homes or sense of well-being:

Hundreds of people from Appalachia and across the nation will embark on an historic march to demand an end to mountaintop removal, the strengthening of labor rights, sustainable job creation in Appalachian communities, and the preservation of Blair Mountain. 

Does your work nurture or threaten your sense of well-being? Work often requires people to move away from home, even though for many people being near family and loved ones, living in a place that feels like home, is central to a sense of well-being. Nathan Hall, a young environmentalist from Appalachia, left his Kentucky home to pursue bigger and better things, but kept feeling pulled back to the mountains. He came home and worked in deep underground mining, hoping to learn all that he could from this work so that he could, with integrity, challenge the status quo in his community - so that he could truly understand how mining work both fed and damaged his people. He will do his important work in his home-place.

Others are not so fortunate. David Bacon is a photographer and journalist who brings us stories about immigrants. In 2008, he wrote of "the right to stay home" or "derecho de no migrar," a human rights movement in which laborers in Mexico and other parts of the world that have been affected by globalization demand the right to be able to support themselves from work in their home communities. Immigration and migration are thorny issues, from any perspective. On the one hand, some Americans act as though those who migrate to the US, "illegally" or not, are "taking" something from them. Reading Bacon's words reminds us that, in some situations at least, those who come to our country might rather find meaningful and viable work at home.

Do you do work for which you are not compensated? How does that fit into your life? Most of us work in our families and communities to take care of one another - I would argue that this is the most important work of all, though it is woefully undervalued by many. I would not trade my years of being a mom of young children, taking care of Michael and Julie, for anything - and I would call it work - purposeful effort devoted to nurturing two little people toward becoming good family members, friends, workers, and citizens. Yes, I would call it work, and I would say that it was not always easy.

Dealing with the "grand challenge" of global climate change, as individuals, communities, and nations, is also work and it is also not easy. What is often easy, however, is denial of this challenge, a turning away from it, stuffing it into a dark seldom-visited corner of our lives. Coming to terms with the changes in our economy, natural environment, physical and emotional health, that are related to climate change and environmental degradation will be work - it will take purposeful effort, both mental and physical, to find new ways of doing things together. We must rise to this challenge for which we do not have ready answers and solutions. We must take on this work - we must be people working together.

Friday morning, I was sitting at my regular table at the Square Cafe, eating my lemon ricotta pancake and drinking iced tea, helping Jim with his crossword puzzle, and enjoying the easy start to the day. Spring was finally here. Graduation was scheduled for the weekend. A fresh semester would start Monday - with me teaching some great students who would be new to me. Life was (is!) good! 

I picked up the Post-Gazette and noticed two front page articles - front and center - and began reading.... and lost my appetite. I felt tears coming to my eyes, and an ache in my heart, and, yes, I admit it, anger and fury - all over my body where those feelings reside, I felt their heat and intensity.

The articles that fired me up? (1) A story about the newly published independent review of the Upper Big Branch coal mining explosion that took the lives of 29 coal miners on April 5, 2010. The finding - gross neglect - primarily on the part of Massey Energy's shoddy oversight of mine safety, and the federal and state regulatory officials who had counted and cited several hundreds of safety violations and yet never closed the mines. AND (2) the first person accounts of the men who survived the mining disaster. 

As noted in the first story, the independent review does not read like a dry technical report written by sterile bureaucrats. It reads like a thriller - a record of a historical event that rivals stories of war, natural disasters, plagues. Its main characters are humans - archetypes that have existed for centuries. An extra-big villain - Don Blankenship, a West Virginia native with an uncanny facial resemblance, though with a little more flesh, to another despot with a tiny black mustache - Mr. B is known as the dark lord of West Virginia coal country. 

Rolling Stone magazine published an expose of Mr. B's work and his response to the mining explosion. Shortly after the article appeared, he resigned as CEO of Massey Energy - with a mighty big golden parachute, I might add. His salary had spiked in the months before the disaster. And even though he saw a drop in salary of 48% by the end of 2010, he still walked off with millions and will sit pretty for the rest of his life. The people most directly affected by his actions and non-actions related both to the explosion and the mining-related environmental devastation could most certainly use some of that money - for health costs, for pain and suffering, for de-valued homes, for educational funds for spouses and children left without a husband and father. Yes, they sure could use - and most certainly deserve - such help.

Don Blankenship may be one of the big villains. There are lesser bad guys galore - many of whom look the other way in order to keep their jobs and salaries and, sometimes, their political seats - or maybe, because they are human, to avoid conflict and confrontation. 

Those in the middle - the ones who know that the jobs they work both keep food on the table and poison the creek out back - these people often just feel stuck. These are the folks who don't see or understand alternatives, or fear change, or don't trust that things could be better, so they stick with the familiar.

The heroes and/or victims - they are the coal miners, and their families, and future families who will face the vast destruction associated with the mountain top removal typical of Massey Energy and similar companies, and with the dark underground mining in dank and dusty caves. Many of these heroes and victims come from a long line of miners and have deep roots in the mountains of Appalachia. The drivers of the plot - greed, neglect, inaction and passivity, ignorance, acts of God (according to Mr.  B), bogged down bureaucracy, and many others.

Not so much talked about though? The chorus of this drama - the reporters and observers who do not necessarily act in big parts. You and me. Watching television reports about the explosion, reading newspapers, talking to friends, maybe signing petitions to voice our disgust with big coal operations, and.... flipping on light switches, recharging our multiple devices, typing away on our keyboards, TiVo-ing our favorite shows, and generally living our day to day lives without really seeing the men and the families of men whose labors feed the energy that travels the wires to our homes.

To really understand the fix we are in, we need to recognize that fossil fuels have supplied cheap, abundant and effective energy of all kinds for over a century - much cheaper than in most other parts of the world, much cheaper than the price of alternative energies that aren't yet built to scale, cheaper today than the long-term costs associated with the use of fossil-fuel driven energy. We review our electric bills, maybe shop around for a lower rate, turn off lights when not in use, perhaps even unplug the coffee-maker and other LED-lit appliances. We do that, most of us, without really understanding or even actually thinking about the fact that most electricity in our country is powered by coal burning plants... which are fueled by coal.... that is dug from deep underground by men in hazardous conditions (even in the 21st century) or sheared off the surface by giant machines doing mountain top removal that destroys the natural environment and the health of the people who live nearby. 

Can those (we) in the chorus be villains or heroes, or are we limited to the passive roles of observer and reporter? When we see disaster coming, can we intervene and prevent chaos and destruction? Can we warn the heroes and victims-to-be? I think the authors of these dramas can have the chorus do whatever they want. I think we can even become authors of the dramas, or at least co-screen-writers.

We don't have to do it alone. We have options - one coming soon is the March on Blair Mountain in West Virginia - from the web-site:

We march to preserve Blair Mountain, abolish mountaintop removal, strengthen labor rights, and an investment in sustainable job creation for all Appalachian communities.The March on Blair Mountain is a peaceful, unifying rally involving environmental justice organizations, workers, scholars, artists, and other citizens and groups. The march commemorates the 90th anniversary of the Battle of Blair Mountain in 1921, when 10,000 coal miners rose against the rule of the coal operators and fought for the basic right to live and work in decent conditions. Currently, Blair Mountain is threatened with obliteration by mountaintop removal (MTR) mining, and it is here that a new generation of Appalachians takes a stand.

In the spirit of the original march–which consisted of mountain peoples, African-Americans, and immigrants from all over Europe–we reach out to a diversity of groups to march in solidarity for the workers, communities and mountains of Appalachia. If you stand with us, you are one of us — a true mountaineer.