Frontlines

Carmen stood on the edge of what was once a forest and looked out across the horizon. Like strong round gravestones, hundreds of stumps now marked the spot where old cedars once stood. She took a deep and shaky breath, the stale air stinging her lungs. Tears brimmed her eyes, and like a scratched record, her mind kept repeating one simple phrase: if not today, perhaps tomorrow.

…

The town was electric with the media coverage of the protest. Everywhere Carmen went she was recognized as the “Climate Change Kid.” Other nicknames were less flattering, and she was often mocked for being a “Tree Hugger.”

“It’s not in your best interest to retaliate,” her mom told her, cracking eggs into a pan. They sizzled in the hot butter, filling the room with the familiar fragrance.

“It’s exhausting,” Carmen said, sitting down at the kitchen table. “It’s like they think it’s a joke or something.”

“Nobody thinks that, sweetie.” Her mom placed two fried eggs on the plate in front of her. “Eat up,” she said. “The day’s not getting any longer.”

Carmen finished her eggs and headed off to school. The air was muggy today, as usual. She wore a low brim hat, partly to keep the sun off her face, partly to hide from the stares. There were only a few weeks of school left before she graduated, but it didn’t feel like a huge achievement considering she didn’t really have any plans for what happened afterwards. There’s so many paths to take, the thought of it was overwhelming.

“Hey Carmen!” She heard someone call across the street. It was Finn, another senior at her school.

“I saw you on the news the other day,” he said, slightly out of breath after running to catch up with her.

Carmen and Finn haven’t spoken for a while. They were both in the chess club and he taught her an opening called the London System, but that was before her father’s accident. She hadn’t quite felt like getting back to playing since then. Not yet, anyway.

“You looked great,” he said, grinning.

Carmen’s cheeks flushed. “How are you?” She asked.

“Good, good. So, uh, have you thought much about the final project yet? The one for the social justice class?”

Ms. Laurier was the class teacher. Every year she offered a final project in lieu of an exam which, naturally, most students preferred. The option was vague: “find a way to create meaningful change in your community.” But the vagueness was the most intriguing part–there really was no limit.

“Oh yeah, final project.” Carmen stopped for a moment. With everything going on around her, she hadn’t had much time to think about it. “Well,” she began. “You know how everyone has started calling me tree hugger?”

“Yes, I think I’ve heard that.” Finn replied slowly, raising his eyebrows in anticipation.

“Well. I think I might plant some trees,” Carmen said slyly.

“Really?” Finn asked. “I mean, un-ironically, I think that’s a really sweet idea.”

“Well, I just honestly think it would cheer up the place a little bit, you know? Maybe spark a different kind of fire. Maybe it’s a bit of a minor retaliation, maybe it won’t make a huge difference, but I don’t know… It would be more than nothing.”

“I think you’re right,” he said, just as the first bell rang. “It’s much more than nothing. I gotta run, but I’ll see you later maybe?”

They parted ways and Carmen headed towards her first class. Sitting in the back seat, she quickly scribbled down a proposal for her project while her teacher droned on about Binomial Theorem. She had lunch with Macy in the cafeteria, pulling a flattened PB&J from her backpack. Her dad used to make these the best, but her mom tried so hard.

Finally, 2pm rolled around and Carmen walked into Ms. Laurier’s class. The bustle of students around her quieted as her teacher began the class. Today, everyone would quickly present their project proposals to get feedback and, if all went well, approval to start the project.

When it was Carmen’s turn, she grabbed her scribbled-on looseleaf and stood up nervously.

“I’m going to plant trees,” she said. She tightened her brow as someone in the back row snickered. Clearing her throat, Carmen spoke up.

“I want to plant trees around the community in an effort to regain even a small portion of those lost diring the recent clearing of the forest. Our natural resources are not limitless, and extraction of these resources is a practice in natural genocide. We need more collectivism, not individual action. We need sustainable growth, and I want to illustrate this with the growth of trees.”

…

After her project was approved, Carmen was given a small budget, provided by the seniors end-of-year fundraiser, to order trees and began making flyers to hand out to business owners in the community, encouraging others to participate. She dug five small holes in the ground and planted two different types of cedars in front of her school, leaving a small orange sign in front that read “Trees for our future.”

By the end of her project, Carmen’s patience was tested several times, but she was inspired several times more. Her carefully built signs were defaced, but paradoxically, this only seemed to increase the support from the community. After two weeks, Carmen had planted twenty-five trees in seven different locations in Cedar Grove. After two weeks, Carmen felt like she had planted the seed of change.