Dear _______,

I’m pessimistically hopeful about your future. Hope is required; without hope, there would be no effort. But I’m also pessimistic. The earth can’t take any more strain. Those who have the power to save earth—humanity’s home—are actively benefiting from its demise. Politicians and those 70 corporations are guaranteeing a destructively horrific future. Imagine being one of those empty, moral-less shells of a person: exchanging the lives of billions of people to further line your already heavy pockets. I’m assuming they’re walking shells; if they had any ethical awareness, they’d simply be evil. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.

I hope—I pray—that we’re able to replace these empty human shells with lively, caring, ethical, and determined people. They need to be determined to surgically solve the deep-rooted problems our world faces. We can’t have bandaid solutions anymore. This means our next leaders have to solve all environmental issues, especially when the solutions are interwoven with racial justice. Why do you think this 2020 pandemic is disproportionally affecting the African American community? Well, let me ask you this: Where do coal mining, energy extracting, air polluting, lung-damaging companies locate their facilities? Most are built right next to majority African American communities.

So what am I doing to ensure you have an earth that’s not trying to rid itself of humanity? Not enough. Nowhere near enough. I’m trying to do better. I recycle. I carpool. I turn off lights. I take short showers. I compost. I donate. I sign petitions. I make sure my roommates to clean out their glass jars. But I don’t have solar power. I didn’t prevent the man at the dump from throwing plastic bags into the recycling. I have never called my representatives—something I’m about to change. There are things I do and more things I should do. But still, I have to be—I promise to be—hopeful because without hope there would be no effort.