Plant life persists
From The Seattle Times
s the #MeToo movement has unearthed myriad accounts of sexual assaults and unwanted advances, several of the accused — from Harvey Weinstein to Charlie Rose — have said they believed the encounters were consensual.
False accusations of sexual assault are statistically rare. But putting that aside, saying these acts were consensual is a convenient defense that overlooks what could have been a simple solution: If unsure whether someone wants to engage in sexual activity, just ask.
Putting this into practice may be awkward for some. But that is exactly why young people need to learn how to communicate about sexual consent earlier in life — at home and in the classroom.
Public schools in King County are on the right track by incorporating lessons about affirmative sexual consent into their curricula, as reported in a recent Seattle Times article. By emphasizing that students should ask for and receive a “yes” before proceeding with sex, rather than stopping only if their partner says “no,” schools can combat cultural influences that contribute to sexual assaults. These include gender norms that encourage men to be sexual “conquerors” while discouraging women from speaking up.
This “yes means yes” model also teaches students that if someone is too intoxicated to say yes, they cannot consent to sex — a point that cannot be emphasized enough.
Studies have found that a person’s understanding of consent relates to how likely they are to commit sexually aggressive acts. Addressing the topic in school not only makes sense, it is long overdue.
Parents should be having these conversations with their children, too. Given how much confusion still seems to surround the concept of sexual consent, discussing it more — and earlier — can only make things clearer.
“No” always means “no.” But we must also teach our young people to check in with their partners to ensure they are actually saying “yes.”
Exxon Mobil recently announced plans to begin disclosing more details about how climate change could affect its business. The Irving, Texas, oil giant said in a regulatory filing it will offer shareholders more information about how changes in global demand for energy and policies to reduce carbon dioxide emissions could impact the company’s bottom line.
A group of shareholders has been calling for these types of disclosures for years, but Exxon, once a climate change denier, maintained that forecasts of what that means for shareholders were impossible to make. Exxon’s move shows that limits to carbon dioxide emissions are serious and cannot be ignored. We applaud this transparency.
Asteady wind speeds my fire through a pile of limbs. Unlike the wet wind that covered the yard and Oak Mountain with a foot of snow, broken limbs, and crushed shrubs three weeks ago, this wind is dry. It is blowing away moderate weather and bringing freezing temperatures for the New Year.
The birds seem to enjoy the weather as it is. A flock of titmice, chickadees, woodpeckers and kinglets circulates around the house. The titmice repeat peter, peter, peter. Their bright two-note call is the titmouse courting song. Despite the early snow they are thinking about spring. The exuberance of the birds contrasts starkly with the plants’ bare twigs and lifeless stubble. But plant life persists. Bare shrubs and trees are not the skeletons they appear to be. Every twig and trunk is wrapped with living tissue. Unlike birds that survive the cold with whatever food that they can scrounge, plants endure without food. That birds survive is astonishing, but the plants’ resurrection after a seeming surrender to winter is so far from human experience that it borders on the miraculous. The dead, especially the frozen dead, should not return.
But they do return. Plants survive the way the carnival sword swallower survives — with careful preparation and meticulous attention to sharp edges. Unlike the chemistry that sustains mammals and birds, plant chemistry works when the temperature drops. But when cooling turns to freezing problems start. Expanding ice crystals will puncture, tear and destroy the delicate inner structure of cells.
Plants begin preparing for the first freeze weeks before it happens. They move DNA and other components necessary for life to the centers of their cells and cover them with a protective layer of fat. When it gets cold the chemical structures of these fats change and they become liquid. Next the membranes around the cells become leaky and flexible. The resulting winterized cells are padded and limber and able to withstand ice’s violence without harm.
A freeze before the process is complete will kill things that could otherwise survive the coldest night of the year. Native plants are seldom surprised by early freezes; natural selection has linked them to the seasonal rhythms of their homes. Conversely, exotic plants are often severely damaged by winter.
Plant cells not only change their physical structure for winter but also soak themselves in sugars, lowering the freezing point of intracellular water. Sugaring happens only inside the cells, thus the freezing point of water outside the cells is unchanged. This asymmetry lets plants use the heat released when the water surrounding the cells freezes to warm the cells where life-sustaining materials are being protected. Farmers use this mechanism to protect their crops on very cold nights by misting them with an extra layer of heat-releasing water.
When all the water between the cells has frozen solid, no more heat is released but the water inside the cells is still liquid. The liquid oozes through the leaky cell membranes, leaving behind the sugars, fats, DNA, and other molecules too large to pass through the membranes. This gradually increases the cellular sugar concentration as the temperature drops lower, further lowering the freezing point of the intracellular fluid. When temperatures are very low, cells pucker into balls of syrup, unfrozen containers of life surrounded by shards of ice.
Ice has ruled the yard off and on for most of December but each plant cell has carefully maintained a microscopic separation between ice and life. By reversing the process, twigs, buds, and roots will be able to revive in spring and carry on almost as if winter never happened.
But some plants have taken a different path. Their lives ended last fall and they now stand dead, surrendered entirely to winter. They have changed into a new physical form. This new form is almost invisible to the naked eye, but it surrounds me any time I walk through the yard. Buried in the yard’s litter are millions of seeds waiting out winter. Because seeds have hard coats and dry interiors they pass through the cold months protected from ice.
The impression of desolation in the yard is superficial. Within its bounds are a thousand million plant cells, each one wrapped within itself. The quiet gray exterior of trees and shrubs belies the energy that is latent within them. So although titmice and other birds give a vigorous display of life in December, they are lifeless compared to the energy that is stored in the dormant plants that live here. When spring comes the energy they release will carry all of Oak Mountain, birds included, through another year. STANLEY TATE Jim Powell of Young Harris