Story

Even through the rain, people continued to arrive. They crowded into the garage carrying saws and hammers, with tool belts strapped on. So many more people than I’d expected.

They were here to fight climate change.

These volunteers would weatherize the attached apartment building, helping the residents lower energy bills while also protecting the climate. We were calling this work a “barn-raising,” as in old-fashioned barn-raisings, where neighbors pooled skills and tools to perform tasks bigger than any one person could manage. And global warming was something bigger than any one of us could fight.

My climate-change-action group here in Cambridge Massachusetts thought up the idea a few weeks before. Discouraged by what felt like a lack of results from our endless demonstrations and letters-to-editors, we ached for something hands-on and practical.

At first, we considered organizing barn-raisings to install photovoltaic arrays, but realized we would then only be able to work with homeowners who had a south-facing roof and a few thousand dollars in disposable cash. So I suggested weatherization work instead. In my own home, I’d lowered the energy bill 50% with some fairly simple efficiency measures. Dollar for dollar, these tasks had a much larger impact on carbon emissions than renewables did and they took just a little handyman knowledge. A barn-raising would accomplish so many critical tasks no one ever got around to: caulking windows, insulating the attic hatch, air-sealing leaks and installing faucet aerators. We could work on mansions or seventh-floor walk-ups.

Doing this work, we would teach skills the volunteers needed to weatherize their own homes. Our barn-raisings would also introduce neighbors to each other, increasing community and spreading ideas and information.

My greatest hope was that a barn-raising might dispel that frozen fear so many people felt when it came to the looming threat of climate disruption. Installing efficient light bulbs, we were socially marketing carbon-cutting behavior, physically demonstrating no one had to wait for a federal cap-and-trade program. We could pick up a caulk gun right now and start to fight back.

In the garage at that first barn-raising, the rain still pounding overhead, I called out the names of the team leaders and what tasks they would be teaching. In the two weeks since we’d announced this event, energy experts with decades of experience had contacted us wanting to help, clearly having been waiting for a grassroots action like this. The President of Cambridge Energy Alliance would be demonstrating how to install pipe insulation.

The volunteers quickly chose which team they wanted to work on and, grabbing bottles of spray foam and window weatherization kits, filed into the building to start the work. The owner of the building moved from team to team, answering questions and fetching materials. A life-long political activist, he had the biggest grin on his face.

In the 10 months since that first barn-raising, my group (we call ourselves HEET for Home Energy Efficiency Team) have worked in more than 15 other homes, as well as a historic church, homeless shelter, community centers and a public school. We’ve trained over 400 people, won prizes and grants and, at last count, 14 other cities and two universities are starting their own HEET teams. In three hours of work on a home, we lower the energy bills on average 9%. As we learn more, our work is getting increasingly effective.

At that first barn-raising, as the work finished, a band began to play. The pizza arrived. Children ran around. People laughed and talked. And for the first time in years, I felt hope for all of us.