Getting our hands dirty...
"Dirty hands" can mean that one's hands have been
someplace they shouldn't have been, OR that they're busy
getting (often messy) work done. Both meanings can be
applied to the current environmental disaster that is the oil
spill in the Gulf of Mexico. The petroleum execs, politicians
and pundits are all trying to put their spin on this situation,
pointing fingers and rooting out responsibility; that is, "who's
hands are dirtiest?". Rarely are the fingers pointed into the
mirror, and, here, I'm talking about all of our mirrors. Clearly if we were not so petroleum dependent, the need for
drilling in environmentally sensitive areas (and what areas
are NOT?) wouldn't be as great, or at least so suggestive of
cost-cutting!
On the other hand, thousands of volunteers have sped to the Gulf to clean birds' feathers, to gather up oil balls,
to help feed and cloth other volunteers and those whose lives have been turned topsy-turvy by this disaster. Folks'
imaginations have been provoked to come up with clever solutions to capping the well. Sleeves have been rolled up;
hands have gotten dirty!
So, do "we the people" have dirty hands? (And, yes, that's meant to be a rhetorical question!) I won't enumerate
all the ways I am dependent on the "bubbling crude . . . black gold, Texas tea" that ol' Jed Clampett found. I would
imagine that, given a few moments' reflection, you too would recall your lawnmower, those 1/2-mile car trips to
Safeway, keeping the thermostat at 72 degrees in the winter. I also won't spend a lot of time talking about how
grumbly I get when gas prices edge above the $3.00 mark. So, it's not just my USE of petroleum products, it's also
my unwillingness to accept the true cost of that product: The cost to the families of the oil-rig workers who've lost
their lives. The cost to families of fishermen whose livelihoods are threatened. The cost of rehabilitating seabirds
and sea mammals. The cost of cleaning up beaches-not just of oil balls, but also dead sea life. And I can't hide
behind, "Well, BP will pay for it all . . . or their insurance will." I've got dirty hands.
Which implies, I suppose, that I'd better get my hands dirty. I need to take seriously the calls to environmental
care that come from all the religious traditions (and see the long list of reflections from religious thinkers at the
Washington Post's "On Faith" site). Most of you know that I regularly commute by bicycle to work. And I'm proud
of that! But it's not enough, given the size of MY overall carbon footprint. Care for the earth takes a lot of
commitment. It takes discipline. It takes an expansive world-view. My work is cut out for me! My faith compels me
to act responsibly.
I'm mindful that I'm writing this a few hours before DU's Graduate Commencement takes place, and the day
prior to our Undergraduate Commencement. I'd almost thought about NOT dealing with the oil-spill . . . but it
proved to be too important, too compelling not to address. And (not surprisingly) there is a linkage. The folks who
will walk across the stage over the next 24 hours have each received a great education. Many of these students have
worked with faculty, staff and administrators to increase DU's commitment to sustainability; they've recognized our
own dirty hands, and have already gotten their hands dirty. That same education will equip them to go into a "dirty"
world and address problems other than just oil spills: global (and local) economic imbalances, seemingly incurable
diseases, the nation's education woes, and inter-ethnic conflicts to name a few. I would hope that they will take their already-evident commitment to the public good with them as they leave DU,
and that their future work will inspire us all to get our hands dirty with them to create a more just and sustainable
future!
Blessings,
Gary