Go Ahead and Call Me a Climate Change Doomer

When I was a child, I had a little jar in the kitchen of my family’s apartment. It was usually about a third of the way full of quarters, dimes, and nickels. It wasn’t a swear jar, nor was it for allowance or anything like that. I had set it there myself, and it was my mother and stepfather who were putting in the coins. I had instituted a rule; any time they threw a cigarette butt on the ground outside, I charged them 25 cents. I planned to give the money to a charity to help plant trees. I was one of those kids. The super annoying miniature activists. I read about conservation, I organized little clean-up crews to pick up garbage on the school playground, and I even convinced my elementary school principal to plant a little flower garden out behind the schoolyard. <a href="https://medium.com/bouncin-and-behavin-blogs/go-ahead-and-call-me-a-climate-change-doomer-e8277c53e9f8">Website</a>