A Fine Balance
“Mommy-o, I can go outside?” my two-year-old son, Kai, just asked me, looking expectantly out our screen doors to the open air stretching out behind our home. Every day, he asks me this question after I bring him home from daycare. And every day, I’m grateful that my answer can be Yes. You see, though we now live on my home island of Hawai‘i, Kai was born in Berkeley, California on September 9, 2020, the day the sky turned orange in the Bay Area. I woke up that day knowing he’d be coming into the world. I had a 10 am appointment at the hospital. I remember opening my eyes and wondering if I had accidentally slept through the day because it was so dark, much darker than it should have been at 8 a.m. I went to the window and peeked through the blinds. Then, alarmed, I ran to the front door to get a better look from the courtyard of our apartment complex. Activist Kahea Pacheco writes about the day her son was born, fear and urgency around the climate crisis, and the grounding she finds in her Seven Generations perspective in this essay from our Autumn print issue.
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