The plight
of the Joads was brought home to me in a meaningful way on the first weekend of
March when Southern California - finally - experienced a
proper winter storm. In the course of 72 hours, five inches of rain fell on Los
Angeles; this - not surprisingly - led to flooded
conditions in various Foothill communities and mudslides in Glendora
and Asuza. Prior to that weekend, California
was headed into what many climatologists believe could be the worst drought in
the state’s recorded history.
The
“recovering teacher” in me takes note of the irony inherent in the Joads’
fictional predicament and our own, modern-day dilemma, in which the admonition:
“be careful what you ask for - you might get it” is in play. The Joads sought
relief from drought, only to experience an even worse calamity - floods. In a
similar fashion, Southern Californians prayed for rain,
only to have our prayers answered with a vengeance. Unlike the aftermath of the 2009 Station
Fire, however, in which 43 homes in the hills above Glendale
were damaged by mudslides triggered by the 2010 El Nino weather conditions, the
recent March storm resulted in only minor residential damage. Still, nearly 1000 homes were subject to
mandatory evacuation orders during the three-day storm.
It’s
tempting to jump on (or off) the environmental band wagon when events like the
Station and Colby Fires inevitably lead to flooding and mudslides…and yet, it
was ever thus here in the Golden State.
Scientists have recorded soot on pre-historic cave walls here in Southern
California which suggests that pollution and climate change have
always played a factor in the encounter between humans and the environment. That having been said, still, it is
worthwhile to consider what, if anything, we ought to be doing to avoid (or
cope with) the inevitable cycle of fire and flood which appears to be the only
constant in Southern California weather patterns. In point of fact, the question is really
larger than that; and it is underscored by the experience of the Joad family.
Through no
fault of their own, and, in order to survive, they escaped one environmental
disaster only to be confronted by a different - and equally devastating - weather
event. The novel ends with a rather mysterious - and controversial - moment in
which Rosaharn, the Joad daughter who just lost her newborn to the excruciating
conditions of extreme heat and lack of food and water voluntarily ministers to
an emaciated and starving stranger sharing their constrained patch of dry land.
Steinbeck’s message is inescapable: human beings are responsible for how we
react to environmental disasters and, even more so, for the generation of hope
in the face of implacable and arbitrary threats to our existence on this
planet.
I’m
reminded of this imperative whenever I discover stories of our alums who look
to make a difference in their particular corner of the world. The Spring issue of Lancer Magazine, for example, features a piece on Ryan McEvoy ’96
who, without intending it, pioneered the introduction of LEED (Leadership in
Energy and Environmental Design) principles here in Pasadena.
As we gear up for a capital
campaign to build a practice gym, aquatics and fitness centers, I am mindful of
the precarious state of California’s water and energy supplies - as illustrated
by the March climate events. It makes sense to me that we need to ensure our
new buildings are as energy (and water) efficient as possible…if for no other
reason than because the cost to operate these buildings will only increase
pressure on raising tuition, going forward.
That having been said, it’s the
inspiring example of alums like Ryan McEvoy ’96 who remind me that the Joads'
picaresque journey to California not only represents “art imitating life”, but
that their story of grit, determination and - yes - heroism can teach us a
great deal about how to respond to life’s twists and turns - especially when it
comes to things we can’t control - like the weather.
