How to Be a Climate Hero

One afternoon last summer, I was on a commuter train when I heard someone yelling behind me. I didn't pay attention because I was breaking up a fight between my kids. But the third time the person yelled, I turned around.

It was a boy, about six years old. He was standing on his seat screaming, "My mom's having a seizure!" The only part of his mom I could see were her legs, sticking out into the aisle, convulsing. And arrayed around the train car were forty other people, mouths open. Not one of them doing a thing.