be no quick or safe way, from her perspective, to evacuate the children. There is only one road in and out of the school. This scares her, tremendously. She feels that if drilling is going to surround the school, then the well operators should finance the changes to the school property needed to allow the buses to remain on campus when not in use. “It’s the least they can do. They’re playing with our children’s lives.”
The conversation continues later in the day at Jane’s new home. This time Lexi and her younger brother Damien are present. Apologizing for the mess (though there really wasn’t any), Jane explains that she and the kids have just gotten back from camping, which they do most weekends
during the summer. “I like to get them away from all of this,” she sighs, “as much as I can.” The family moved recently to a quieter street to get away from the unhealthy and unending frack truck traffic that interrupted her and her kids’ sleep all hours of the night and they’re still getting settled. “Lexi had a hard enough time sleeping, she was in so much pain, and those trucks never stopped. Even though they weren’t supposed to drive from 7 to 7. You know they did it anyway,” she says, wagging her finger.
Her son Damien, who is dark-haired and bright-eyed, is quick to join in, clearly wanting to tell what this experience has been like for him. Unlike Lexi, who is more shy and reserved, Damien revels in the attention. He runs in the back and returns with his favorite baseball bat, bouncing onto the couch as he speaks about sports and his future dream of learning computer coding in college – a goal he shares, by the way, with his sister. But then he turns more serious, veiling his eyes in an attempt to wrangle in more difficult emotions. “She used to cry in her sleep at the old house,” he says, his voice growing small. “I could hear her. She was in so much pain. I couldn’t do anything. And she couldn’t stop being thirsty. She’d wake up and drink three big glasses of water, all in a row.” Eyes drilled into his lap, he briefly glances over at Lexi and offers a knowing smile. “And then a little later she’d gulp some more down, right again.”
Eventually, Lexi joins in. She speaks in a quiet, measured voice about the things she loves to do, how she volunteers as a “cat cuddler” at the local Humane Society, and how she plays point guard on her basketball team and is good at penetrating up the middle to take a shot. Unlike her brother, who is boisterous, impish, and full of movement in that typical 10-year old boy way, Lexi remains glued to the couch, shoulder to shoulder with her mom, for most of the conversation. Tense but still. As she becomes more comfortable however, she begins to open up about her best friends and the toys she likes to collect. She also admits disappointment over the fact that none of her “besties” ever ask her about her health, or talk to her about fracking. “Fracking is idiotic,” she explains matter-of-factly. She then reveals, stream of consciousness style, that she’s afraid to wear white clothes – “just in case I get a nosebleed again,” and that her body “just stopped working.”
She’s also proud of her mom – who is actually her and Damien’s adoptive mother but also their biological grandmother, and she’s proud that Jane joined a grassroots movement, Don’t Frack the Fort. The purpose of the campaign is to prevent more wells from being fracked so close to school property and to bring greater awareness in general about the risks that fracking poses to the area’s school children. For instance, Jane and other Don’t Frack the Fort members have
Jane is part of a growing movement of parents, homeowners, and small business owners who are beginning to ask their local authorities, as the final gatekeepers of all oil and gas projects, to not simply rubber-stamp operators’ plans but instead take a more reasoned, more transparent, and more comprehensive consideration of the myriad health and quality of life impacts that heavily industrial activities such as fracking bring to rural, farming communities. In Mt. Pleasant, parents have been attending local public hearings and are advocating for greater transparency and more protection for children should the project go forward, including limiting how and when Range would be able to drill and frack the additional well near the Fort Cherry School. These local parents turned activists, including Jane, feel that drilling and fracking at Range’s proposed well pad should not occur during school hours. It is unclear what local government officials will decide, but Jane and her children are bracing themselves should approval be given. Damien and Lexi talk about what it might be like this time if Range fracks near their school again. “Children should never have to worry about whether they’ll be safe at school,” Jane sighs. Waiting to hear, particularly for this family, is difficult, but Jane knows that she and the other parents in this community have done what they can.
Not surprisingly, Lexi appears to be following in her mother’s activist footsteps. Together, she and Jane, along with members of another grassroots campaign known as Mom’s Clean Air Force, took their message to Washington, D.C. in July. According to Jane, lots of kids, including Lexi, were front and center in meetings with U.S. Senators and other decision makers. Legislative meetings were arranged and these warrior moms discussed, among other things, the importance of making EPA’s new rules to reduce methane emissions from oil and gas operations as strong – and tightly enforced – as possible. Next they’ll be taking their message to Harrisburg, as well. “Someone has to start listening to us,” Jane insists.
Jane’s daughter may be shy, but fracking has pushed this Lexi to find her voice. It’s unclear what the long-term consequences of the benzene exposure will mean for her, and her mother is well aware that benzene is known to cause cancer, but for now they both are focused on looking toward a brighter future. Despite her fear of nosebleeds, Lexi found the courage to shelve her anxiety and wear a white dress to her 6th grade graduation. “And I’m really looking forward to moving to the high school,” she continues. The building that houses grades 7-12 is on the same campus, one hill over from the elementary school building. Although still hyper-aware of where drilling and other oil and gas activities occur, she smiles with conviction and explains, “It’s on a higher hill. That means it’s safer.”
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... "she couldn’t stop being thirsty. She’d wake up and drink three big glasses of water, all in a row" ...