Sarah Strano surveys the breakfast spread at her Arlington, Va., hotel. It's only 7 a.m., but the third-year civil engineering major has no time to feast. She can't believe it was just last night that she and her classmates received the confirmation: Energy Committee members from Pennsylvania Senator Arlen Specter's office agreed to meet with the Pennsylvania students. Upon hearing the news, Strano immediately put aside her homework to join her classmates in a hotel conference room. The talked strategy well into the night, taking advantage of every minute they could, as they reviewed their research.
Strano grabs an apple from the buffet, fills up a coffee cup to go, and heads for the metro. Being late this morning isn't an option. This meeting, after all, is a big reason why she and nearly 12,000 students from across the country have descended on the nation's capital. The group, including about 40 Carnegie Mellon students, makes up the Powershift 2009 youth conference. After participating in weekend workshops on the governmental policies and politics of climate change, those students with confirmed appointments to talk with legislators about safeguarding the environment are part of the morning commute. When Strano squeezes into a packed metro car, she is surprised at the hordes of faces she recognizes from the conference.
She makes it on time to the Hart Building. After passing through the metal detector, she is ushered into the standing-room-only conference room where Specter's Energy Committee awaits the students from Pennsylvania. The students are prepared. They know Specters record. They know what legislation is on the horizon. They know that the Copenhagen Climate Conference is approaching. They are passionate and articulate and very specific about how Specter's environmental record can improve. Watching Specter's staffers, Strano sees they are listening intently and being responsive. Strano knows that their youth is an advantage—with the memory of Barack Obama's presidential victory, the youth vote can't be ignored.
After the big day of persuasion, the atmosphere on the Carnegie Mellon students' charter bus home is more subdued than it had been on the way to D.C. Less chatter, no screenings of WALL-E this time. Most are bent over textbooks. Tests, papers, and homework all return to their routines when they arrive back on campus. But Strano has something else in her routine: She's an officer of Sustainable Earth, a group of about two dozen Carnegie Mellon students who are dedicated to raising awareness about sustainable ways of life on campus, in Pittsburgh, and with the world's leaders.
—Elizabeth O'Brien
