03 3 / 2014
02 3 / 2014
I’m quite pleased with this.
Rapping this out loud in my empty classroom like swag.
WALK INTO THE CLUB LIKE WADDUP I AM A BIG SCOT
I’M SO PUMPED ABOUT SOME VISION THAT THE WITCHES GOT
I WILL BE THANE, SO SAYS THE PROPHECY
THAT PEOPLE LIKE “DAMN, MACBETH DESERVES GLORY”
01 3 / 2014
There’s this meme on the Internet about a little cartoon character and the air hurting the little cartoon character’s face. This meme has been hurting my feelings and borderline infuriating me for weeks and I couldn’t figure out why. But I finally did yesterday.
I used to live in Portland, Oregon. I love Portland. I LOVE Portland. Of all the cities bigger than Missoula, Montana, it is my very favorite. It’s nice there.
But my very favorite memory of living in Portland was during what Portland considered a blizzard (and I did too, at the time). No one drove. The whole city seemed to shut down. Everyone slid on their skis and swooshed to the grocery store together. There was one day where I couldn’t ride my bike so I carried it home. Everyone was pink-cheeked and excited and a little nervous about crossing bridges on skis. Everyone was on the same team.
It was dark and quiet and I loved it.
And I knew I couldn’t live there anymore.
In Missoula, the air is so cold and dry that it frequently hurts my face and freezes my hair. In the summer, the air can burn my throat and lungs. And sometimes, in the spring, the run-off from the snow that was too cold and sometimes too dangerous, but that we need to stave off the fires, sometimes that run-off floods parts of town and destroys people’s homes.
So, why am I living in a place where the air hurts my face? I live in Missoula because everyone is on the same team. Yesterday an avalanche buried three people in their yards and homes. Yesterday, in that same instant, 50 people grabbed shovels and ran toward an avalanche in search for their neighbors.
A couple summers ago, when Tower Road flooded, people from all over town were out there, up to their thighs in water, bagging sand all through the night.
This past summer, when we could see the flames in Lolo all the way from the Higgins Street bridge, no one in this gorgeous little town was doing anything but thinking of, and planning how to help, their neighbors living in the Bitterroot.
An avalanche so close to town is scary and, to say the least, unexpected. But 50 people running to your rescue without a second thought for their own safety, that’s a group of individuals who choose to live in a place where the air hurts their face. Those individuals are tough and real and sympathetic and brave and kind and first, and very foremost, neighborly.
I live in a place where the air hurts my face because I want to live next to the people who also choose to live in this place. I want to be those people.
Just sharing this thing that Caitlin, part of the SciShow team, wrote about Missoula. I can’t wait to get back and let the air hurt my face.