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Growing up, I probably wouldn’t have considered myself an “environmentalist.” No, I wasn’t a climate denier or serial-litterer. I was always - and still am - a big lover of the outdoors and would have supported anything to protect it! Rather, I was disillusioned with the conservation and environmental movement as I had perceived it in my hometown of Portland, Oregon, and as I related to it as a person of color.
Summer officially runs from summer solstice on June 21 to the fall equinox on September 22, but in Alaska it feels more fleeting. Already, it seems half gone. Maybe it’s because the changes in light feel palpable, and plant and garden growth comes so fast you can hardly keep up. Salmon runs suddenly get hot and then quickly wane; berries get plump and within weeks picked over by bears and dogs and humans; shorts and t-shirt days feel almost oppressive when coupled with wildfire smoke and no wind, yet will soon give way to the first frost.
It doesn’t take long spending time with dogs, bears, birds and bees to know they communicate. Some animals even manipulate. Only human animals uniquely share knowledge, wisdom, tall tales and lies through stories. The writer Margaret Atwood describes the origin of storytelling as the coupling of language with concepts of the past, present, and future to help people learn about what happened before—to teach people things to avoid having to learn by trial and error every time.
Our work feels less frantic and chaotic than it did a year ago. Nonetheless, the divisive 2020 election that led to an insurrection slashed any hope of taking a break from staying vigilant about defending democracy, ensuring climate action, and sustaining the health of Alaska’s lands and waters. Yes, a lot has changed in 2021, with real hope that climate policy will honor and prioritize frontline communities and Indigenous ways of life. Yet the Biden administration continues to defend Trump era decisions and actions that threaten Alaska communities, animals, and landscapes.

The raspberries in my yard started to pop this week, sweet and plump, and fiery purple fireweed blooms started to reach their peak. It gets dark now, too, and animals fervently prepare for winter—as do we.  August tells me to gather and process food, button up summer projects, finish chores, prepare for winter, and soak up the last warmth of sunny (though cooler) days every chance I get. Predictably, and also suddenly, summer’s end foretells itself via wilted flowers and late season blossoms, growth surges and decay.

Earlier this month the Biden administration released a regulation that allows oil and gas operators in Alaska to harass polar bears and walruses in the Beaufort Sea when exploring for oil and gas, extracting or transporting fossil fuels, and when building infrastructure. This regulation imperils already threatened polar bears on the Beaufort Sea.