Flames of the Future.

In my last post, I pondered the irony that a historical figure, standing at a breathtakingly epic spot of a truly historic journey would feel that they had not done much with their lives. Frankly, I agree with a childhood friend (also a military man) who commented that Meriwether Lewis's rather pensive comments were more a reflection of the task at hand and a commitment to the future than it was his uncertainty about his own self-worth.

I also think it is a reflection of how none of us can fully see the future in our own time. One of the reasons I love teaching (and there are many) is that it is an opportunity to try to mold the upcoming tomorrows. One of my favorite teaching quotes: "Education is not the filling of a pail, it is the lighting of a fire." I like that.

Fire is the perpetual metaphor; our first technology, simultaneously symbolic of life-giving warmth and cataclysmic destruction. From a very scientifically objective, carbon-conscious perspective, we humans have been lighting far too many fires lately.

On one of the last days of Summer, on a 42 mile ride through beloved Sonoma County, we came across an intense sight.

Upon first glimpse, the smoke was deeply unsettling in its grandeur; rising like a mushroom cloud or volcanic eruption over the landscape. It was actually the Jerusalem Fire, freshly ignited, spreading quickly over nearby Lake County. One of dozens of fast-moving fires that have etched across drought stricken California in the past few weeks.

It would go on to destroy 43 homes, char 70,000 acres and billow smoke across the Bay Area. For the people who watched their homes reduced to embers, the concerns about a warming climate and the destructive power of nature must have suddenly seemed more personal than political. Rather than characterize the motto "Live Sustainably" as some sort of hippie mantra, it should be recognized for what it is: a much-needed strategy for survival.

In a world of 7 billion plus, it matters to consider what personal tactics we can use to support that overall strategy. For myself, I often come back to teaching. In a way, this too is ironic: a profession that is often characterized as igniting fires used to combat a global conflagration.

In another way however, it is fitting. Any firefighter that works in the forest can tell you that lighting fires is one of the best tools for fighting them. This practice, sometimes called back-burning or swailing, has always struck me as poetic.

This morning is also struck me as a good representation of what I am trying to do in the classroom. Yesterday I taught my first day of a new school year. Today, I rise early, and feel excited to fight for the future.