Resource Roundup #50
For the week of September 30th.
Happy Friday Folks,
I had much more exciting things planned for our 50th (!) resource roundup, but then Hurricane Ian hit, and headed straight for my hometown, and now I feel like I am glued to the news and there is no way I can write or think about anything else. It feels like I am stuck in limbo in this strange hour waiting for the storm to make landfall and then waiting to find out what happens after.
This morning I was revisiting a short story I’ve been working on about a young queer couple who get trapped inside one’s apartment in the North Carolina plains when a mass wave floods the coast, and all I could think was how timely it is. The novel I’m working on (which is, yes, a third rewrite of the one I have been talking about for two years— I promise this is the last rewrite and please hold me to that) follows a mythical pine tree god who only appears in dreams and is set in a post-climate-change South, where most of the region has been wiped out with rising waters. I spent much of last summer working on a piece about coastal flooding in Charleston, where I grew up, and it feels like I have been thinking about this question forever, spinning it around in circles on my brain. I still have no answers. It feels powerless sometimes, to know that your world can change in a moment, in an afternoon, in an evening. It’s also oddly comforting to know that, against capitalism and economic pressure and taxes and insurance and all the other menial pressures and tasks of daily life, there is something that can still wipe it all out. We remain so convinced that our presence on this earth is the most important, the end-all-be-all of existence, and there is something to me in giving that all up and realizing that all these stressors are so unimportant in the true scheme of things. What matters: mutual aid, community, showing up for the people you love. There is a reason that communities come together in the wake of tragedy, even if the things that bring them together are violent and unkind. At the end of the world, we are all just looking for a hand to hold.
Today, I want to direct you to a handful of resources that I’m finding helpful in this moment. If you know of any aid funds or reputable places to donate, please add them in the comments.
First, I’ll direct you to this piece I wrote for Bitter Southerner this time a year ago, which looks at how artists are uniting community to process climate disaster. I think it ends on a relatively hopeful note, and I encourage you to look into all of these organizations and individuals. I think Thetyka Robinson says it best: “It is about achieving unity with the water, not fear. The water is a guide telling us something is not right.”
The photo above, one of the many used for this piece, was taken by Jared Bramblett, an engineer and photographer who runs the project Mean High Water. It’s one of the best resources I’ve found for coastal flooding, and Jared always has great live coverage and updates:
May I also recommend the work of Benny Starr, who uses music to discuss the role of water in the Lowcountry:
As well as this episode of the podcast we did with Dacia Green, a multimedia artist from South Florida. One of my favorite conversations we’ve had, we touch on the difficulty of falling back in love with your home while knowing how temporal it is as a place. There’s a strange kind of mourning across the South right now as individuals realize the value in these places, and also realize they are slowly watching them disappear.
Here’s a reading list I curated for Longreads about a South under climate change.
This is a photo I took on Pawley’s Island, South Carolina, back in June of this year:
And this is that same marsh in Pawley’s Island, South Carolina right now:
Here’s a list of places to donate, both in Florida and across the global South.
May I also recommend Central Florida Mutual Aid, and in general, to always seek out mutual aid networks first when it comes to donations.
And here is another list, plus a telethon-style livestream to raise money for Southwest Florida.
I’m sending you all love and safety today, wherever you are. Check in with those you care about. We are all better for the care.