This is laudable; if you are inclined to make a toast, go right ahead. Instead of toasting Kennecott or Rio Tinto, lift your glass to the folks KUC neglected to mention at their press conference: the people behind the scenes who pressured KUC into doing the right thing for Utah. Toast the folks who have volunteered their evenings and weekends and energy for months, quietly, without kudos or compensation. And rest assured that their work is far from finished.

When Peaceful Uprising initiated the campaign against Kennecott Utah Copper’s coal-fired power, we were aware of our role in a broad, diverse local environmental community. Groups like Utah Moms for Clean Air and Physicians for a Healthy Environment beefed up our numbers at our kickoff demonstration at Kennecott’s gates for Fossil Fools Day, on April 1st. When we demand that KUC stop burning coal in our valley, we know we speak for our entire community.

KUC’s Cornerstone expansion will dig deeper and wider and process lower-quality ore, in order to preserve the life of the mine. Needless to say, when PeaceUp learned about Cornerstone, we had concerns. And we weren’t alone.

When KUC began applying for permits and pursuing expansion, the Utah environmental community was paying attention. Local groups started meeting for discussion. It wasn’t long before KUC caught wind of the organic coalition that rapidly formed, and offered to have a dialogue.

My first meeting with Kennecott as part of an environmental coalition was surreal. The slick verbal alacrity of KUC’s PR and explain-away team was worrisome. Their reticence to say anything of substance on Cornerstone’s environmental impacts was worse. The rapport that developed, however, was heartening.

Witnessing the progression of our coalition’s dissent was most encouraging. It was gratifying to hear so many different Utah citizens, with such varied perspectives, converge on common ground and speak up with boldness and clarity. With time, discussions became more frank and heated. This re-power is an imperfect improvement for the largest stationary industrial polluter in the Salt Lake Valley, and it doesn’t come close to addressing the threat that Cornerstone poses to our air shed. I will reiterate: our coalition has unfinished business with KUC.

PeaceUp’s local role is to be brassy, and to bring out the brass in our allies. In this regard, we want to thank our members, and to thank anyone who has demonstrated or taken action to hold our biggest carbon criminals accountable. You are changing the tone of the climate conversation. Because of you, Kennecott cannot afford to ignore the Utah environmental community. Because of you, KUC will invest in remissions reduction equivalent to taking one in every ten cars off the streets in Salt Lake Valley.

Whatever else KUC has planned, this re-power is indeed a big step in the right direction. So go ahead: toast yourself. Cheers!

The whistles shrieked, and almost a hundred people hit the pavement to play dead. The subsequent silence was punctuated by hushed discussion, shocked shouts of dialogue, and interjections of exasperation and intrigue at every volume.

“What are they—oh! Oh, wow!” My eyes were shut tight, but I knew that our 30 x 30 foot banner was unfurling majestically from the parking garage across the road: CLIMATE CHANGE KILLS. The speaker, peering over a pile of fake-dead spectators lying in conspicuously-still human heaps, was putting two and two together.

“Global warming is a myth!” crowed a voice. I fought not to smile as his girlfriend interjected with “Oh God, Nathan, you can’t seriously believe that.” They wandered away, arguing, stepping gingerly around the dead. Four minutes later, the whistles shrieked again, and the mob gently dissolved into the crowd like a sugar cube.

The Salt Lake Tribune gave us an excellent article the next day, complete with a photo that nearly filled the cover of the Utah section. My only objection was that the article said the action was “a protest against climate change.”

Protesting climate change is pointless. What we were after was a conversation.

The future of our changing climate is an issue that no one wants to talk about, unless he or she is an activist. It’s an issue of such gravity and consequence, it makes an activist out of anyone who is brave enough to learn the facts. It happened to me; it can and must happen to everyone.

The next day at work, I thumbed open the Utah section of the Tribune at the coffee bar and pointed out the pictures of my “dead” friends and colleagues.

“I know; is that the stupidest thing you have ever seen?” said Annie, the barista. “I bet they drove to the concert in their SUVs.” It was the same kind of commentary that colored the Tribune’s online discussion of the article on the event.

 You would think this kind of dialogue would leave me frustrated and disappointed; it did not. Every change of mind starts with a conversation.

As Annie brewed up my quad latte, I explained that I am part of Peaceful Uprising, the organizers of the flash mob, and that I, too, had played dead. By the time all four shots were steaming in a frothy mug of yum, the dialogue had shifted from the Gallivan plaza and Utah, to the oceans, the icebergs, Annie’s own young children, and their children. It was a natural and effortless progression.

I dropped a buck in the tip jar as Annie told me that I should bring her a poster to put up to advertise our October 24^th event, on 350.org’s International Day of Climate Action. I thanked her, sipped my latte, and thought about the onion-like layers of gradual social transformation.