海角大神

A decade ago, I took my baby daughter with me on a reporting trip to Kenya.聽She was still nursing and would howl for hours if I tried to put her down. But I figured she was portable.聽Motherhood, I had decided, was not going to change the way I worked.

So, I strapped her into a carrier. I paced the airplane aisles to keep her quiet. I rocked her all night under a mosquito net. It was, in a word, exhausting.聽

I hadn鈥檛 thought about this trip for years.聽But then聽聽about pumping milk on a dirty airport floor.聽She was traveling across the United States to build a scientific collaboration focused on ocean warming. She had also decided that being a mother wouldn鈥檛 affect her career.聽

There are some moments as a journalist when you recognize a story that鈥檚 particularly connecting, universal. For years, mothers in the workplace have gotten the message that it鈥檚 best to pretend your kids don鈥檛 exist. Resilience, we have imagined, means carrying on just as before they were born.

But Dr. Russell came to challenge this.聽She is part of a new group called Science Moms. They connect with non-scientist mothers to spread information about climate change and talk explicitly about the way they feel as parents looking at the Earth鈥檚 future. This is a big shift. It鈥檚 a full reframe of parenthood, science, and resilience. They have recognized that rather than undermining their work, their children are the rock beneath it.聽Climate change can be distressing. But as one scientist told me, when you鈥檙e fighting for your babies, there鈥檚 no such thing as giving up.

I write about climate change for the Monitor. I now feel a responsibility to search for characters like Dr. Russell, to share fierce, clearsighted stories that combat despair, build connection, and encourage progress. My daughter is 10 now, and her sister is 8. They have changed the way I work. I am grateful.