The time I was stuck on the 405 and thought about the future

Los Angeles is a city of extremes. Even after being here for half a year, there are times when I'm still blown away by its duplicity-- the rich hiding away in their mansions, and everyone else below them, struggling to either get there or at least just survive; the striking natural beauty of the mountains and the ocean, brushing up against the cold cement industrialization.

I was stuck in traffic on the 405, on my way to a school in the Valley, when I decided to take a moment and look around out my window. These mountains that look like perfect cardboard cut-outs, stuck to the horizon and looming over the foothills of lush green, all juxtaposed against the immense, sprawling concrete of this place-- they all serve as a constant and beautiful reminder that humans are just a blip on the radar. Someday our structures will all be underwater, or underground. And who knows where we'll be.

I had a conversation with a friend of mine a few days ago about this idea people have of "saving the earth". The truth is-- and I know this sounds odd coming from an environmental activist like myself-- I actually don't think the earth needs saving.

This is what concerns me most about the group I like to call the Leave it Alone Skeptic. They're the ones who almost sound like environmentalists--  They know something's up, they may even admit that humans are causing it. But any action we take as a population is too risky and ultimately pointless because the earth can heal itself.

It seems like we somewhat agree. The primary difference is that I believe that while the earth will continue to adapt, new species will evolve and all the old patterns and species will fade away, and I don't view humans to be above this at all. When I tell students that over the next century we're predicting 20-50% of species to be headed toward extinction, I'm not excluding humans from that statistic. As much as we want to convince ourselves that we are the master manipulators of science, biology and even evolution, the fact remains that we are still animals, dependent on the earth's conditions to remain constant.

The time I drove to Coachella and talked to a 12 year old about vermiculture

Yes I know that Coachella is going to be awesome this year. I saw the line up. But sadly, I have to work the first weekend and I can't justify spending 300 bucks for a festival anyway. I realize how lame that makes me sound. But such is the life of a non-profit worker. I never want it to come down to music or food... mostly because I'm afraid of what I'll actually choose in that scenario.

With each trip out east, I am constantly reminded how much I adore the desert. Seriously adore. The mountains seem to break out of nowhere, and yet the horizon is still incredibly massive.

I arrived at a middle school a bit northeast of where we were staying, and was greeted by temperatures far below what I had anticipated. Yes I suppose it was the end of January, but I thought we were in a desert... I digress.

We gave a series of assemblies in the morning, focusing mostly on food waste and waste reduction, since that's was the initiative happening on their campus. While a little rowdy (who would expect 250 middle schoolers to sit quietly on the floor of the gym and watch some lady talk for an hour?!), the kids seemed interested, if not merely entertained.

A slightly pudgy boy sat next to me at lunch, his tray full of pre-packaged cafeteria food. Without even really looking at me, he started speaking.

"You know what's awesome? When I get home, my nana makes me a snack. Usually something Mexican, I'm Mexican. My parents' family still lives there and I see them sometimes. We will drive it isn't too far.  I'll eat everything on the plate. But if I don't, I take the scraps and dump them into the bin."

"OK, what?" I thought, staring at this kid.

"And then, in a few months, the worms-- they poop it out and i sprinkle the worm poop on my garden! I share it with my mom because it makes her flowers grow" He continued, his eyes getting wide with enthusiasm.

"He's worm composting!" I realized

"Hey, how long have you been doing that for? Feeding the worms with your scraps, I mean."

"Oh" he thought for a moment " for a while now. My mom doesn't mind it because it helps her flowers grow, and it doesn't smell and as long as I take care of the worms she's ok with it."

We spoke for almost an hour. Ok, he did most of the talking, without ever taking his eyes off of his food. It was very peculiar, and very awesome.

But then something even more awesome happened. When he finished with his food, he stacked everything on his tray into two categories: things that could be recycled and things that were trashed. And then he went around to everyone at the table and collected their used items, all the time sorting them. And he placed them into the correct bins, fist-bumping the teacher who was monitoring the process.  He came back to the table and sat down next to me, with a goofy smile.

"Do you always do that?" I asked. I knew that there was an environmental club on campus, but he wasn't wearing one of their shirts.

"No" he said, "But after today, after seeing you guys talk, I think I will start. They all know me anyway. You should start worm composting."