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submitted 2 years ago* (last edited 2 years ago) by ballthrower@lemmygrad.ml to c/leftistinfighting@lemmygrad.ml

Vent, of course.

For the past decade, the impacts of climate change have made itself so incredibly clear on the coast of North Carolina. I grew up by the beach, as my father did, my grandfather did, and my great grandfather did. Eastern North Carolina and the coast of the Carolinas itself is very important to me and it is for a lot of people who have long family history there, whether it be the Lumbee or Tuscarora or any of the many different tribes that have grown their roots there in the sands of the islands. I’m not Native American myself but their stories of love and passion for the sand and the soil and the rivers that run through NC have made me feel that same love and passion for the state. Climate change’s effects on the coast are terrifying. The sea gets closer each year and the beaches become more like small cliff edges than the long walk to where the waves would once crash against the many small shells.

Towns like Rodanthe are mainly tourist towns, where those houses were initially built far from the ocean and on solid ground. Nobody usually lives there in those houses year round. They’re bought by large real estate companies and rented out for the summers to people who can pay thousands a week for them. The people who do live year round do not live in the big houses, but the smaller houses closer to the sound. They are a lot less well built than the houses on stilts. The islands are skinny on a map, but in person they can fit rows of houses. Many houses are built on stilts per NC house building codes. The laws to build homes on the barrier islands have always been strict and have to follow specific guidelines or it will not be built. The houses in Rodanthe met those guidelines. Built on stilts, far from the ocean, and it still collapsed. It’s so easy to blame us North Carolinians as individuals than accept the harrowing, scarier reason for why this is happening. The barrier islands have always been fragile, and because of their fragility they are one of the first to feel the effects of climate change. I live a few hours south of Rodanthe, but each year the winds get worse. We get 30 mph winds constantly, often up to hurricane force winds a couple times a month due to the smallest rainstorm or low pressure system. We used to fear hurricane season but now we fear each week of the year.

“It’s just houses collapsing!”

But the houses are signs of a bigger problem. With the sands shifting and the barrier islands eroding, the mainland of NC is threatened. The coast of NC is like a giant marsh. Beautiful grasses and full of life living In brackish or freshwater, each time a storm brews they are at risk of having their environments destroyed by ocean salt water. This leads to a phenomenon called “ghost forests,” where forests become flooded with salt water and the trees all die. It leaves massive tree stalks standing without the greenery of the leaves. The wood is bleached. Ghost forests are scary to look at in person. It’s unsettling.

And not only that, these eastern towns within NC were primarily founded by freed black slaves. With sea water rising, worsening storms, the loss of the barrier islands, we are losing Black communities. These communities are often very poor, as most eastern North Carolina towns are no matter the demographics of people who live there. They are the ones who are most effected by this issue, and yet people blame the white people who were able to afford buying their homes on top of hills for these problems. We talk a lot about Hurricane Katerina and how black neighborhoods were the ones who flooded the worst, as they had to live in flood plains due to bigotry and poverty. It’s the same thing here. But you know, since they’re southern, why should anyone care?

When NC was hit by the Category 5 hurricane Matthew, the last recovery package we got was 2 million dollars. We needed almost a billion dollars. Towns like Princeville, founded by freed black slaves, sat underwater until the waters eventually receded. Now they lie abandoned and rotting. Many other towns close to the coast suffer this same fate. You can see houses and buildings rotting from floodwater.

They all vote red, certainly. Voting matters when it comes to a life or death situation like this, certainly (sarcasm).

Each time the South is hit by a hurricane I hear people saying we deserve it. That we deserve it for “voting red,” and yet we don’t say they deserve earthquakes or wildfires for voting blue. I don’t think the rest of the US really understands this social code that is found in many southerners. If you don’t give us respect, we won’t respect you. If you shit on everything that is about us, our home, we won’t follow you. How do you expect southerners to follow tail to tail to you when all you do is spit on our shoes while expecting us to shine yours?

Southerners like politicians who speak to the people and promise to help. That’s why Trump was so powerful, because he spoke to the southerner and promised to help us and bring us back industry. To help let the southerner see the day where abandoned buildings weren’t everywhere and everyone wasn’t turning to drugs to cope with their situations. Yet, like all politicians, he lied. And the southerner keeps itching for a new politician to help them while propaganda is being shoved down their throat and while they’re blamed for the worlds problems.

Fact of the matter is, most of these politicians and businesses responsible for this climate crisis live and grow in blue states. A lot of politicians who lead in the south aren’t even from the south. And yet it’s us who’s responsible for everything.

Our states are so deeply corrupt and no one cares. People each year lose their homes and no one cares. Southerners have been suffering with poverty for decades and no one cares, refusing to acknowledge that the people hit the hardest aren’t white. Because they don’t care.

But I hope communists do.

ballthrower

joined 2 years ago