It is what it is.

Pixelle in Jay isn’t going to rebuild their digester and they are permanently shutting down a paper machine. It’s what we expected, but not what we wanted to hear. The storm of 2020 continues to rage on.

My mother weathered some seriously difficult storms but she never complained, never seemed to worry. In the face of any seemingly devastating event in our lives she would simply say, “It is what it is.” This worry-free attitude helped her climb out of homelessness, off of welfare and up the ladder to a senior position at a bank. She had finally gotten to the point she could taste retirement coming and her dream of taking care of her grand babies was so close to reality. She was finally going to be able to stop fighting to survive and sit back and watch what she had accomplished. Then she got brain cancer. I’ll never forget the day she was diagnosed, my brother and I sitting next to her in the ER and the Doctor walks in and tells us she has what they believe is a glioblastoma brain cancer. Mom just looks right at us, almost with a grin, and says “It is what it is.”

I could write an entire book about my mom and how she taught me to remain calm in the face of adversity. We fight for what we can control and we don’t worry about what we cannot control. I am still practicing what she taught me and I think I’m getting pretty good at it, but today I am a little ticked off, helpless, and sad. Pixelle announced that they are not going to rebuild the digester at the Jay mill that exploded this past spring. Part of me is mad at myself for not trying to make more noise about it, for not fighting some where, some how to make sure they have the resources and the incentive to rebuild. Businesses like those are not run on emotion like ours. Loggers are attached to their work by more than a balance sheet, but companies like that will go where they can to make the most money. (I am not saying this is wrong on their part… I totally understand!) They aren’t going to rebuild because they care about the history of logging and woodsmen of Maine. They would rebuild if it made financial sense, and apparently it doesn't. Our state, especially our precious, rural areas are falling flat on their faces and it seems no one gives a hoot. It is torture to watch a centuries old industry continue to dwindle. Rural Maine needs the forestry industry. These people are do-ers. They were born and raised to freaking DO something, CREATE something, BUILD something. So the question is, what are we going to do next? Clear the forests and set up solar panels? No way. Please dear Lord don’t let that happen. I wish I knew what the answer was, because I would fight hard for it. Do we all stop logging? Well, that won’t work out so well. We still need logs, we still need to manage these forests. Will all of us little guys give up? Nah, too stubborn for that. I just can’t wrap my head around it, honestly. I’m really struggling here to say “It is what it is.” It can’t be.

I don’t know what’s next for the industry as a whole. I know each individual logger will find a way to continue to feed their families and keep a roof over their heads whether that means adjusting their logging business, diversifying, or leaving the industry. Summer and fall have been a dress rehearsal for what we knew was inevitable, but it certainly stings a little to have that last little bit of hope pulled from us. Next up on my agenda is to make a bigger case for biomass energy. I would much rather see well managed forests be used for energy than fields of solar panels. If we can’t make it into paper, we might as well make electricity and heat. We can’t get to the logs without the pulp and chips, so we must find a home for them. We will. We will continue to harvest, we continue being responsible with our resources, we will continue to manage the Maine forests.

Jay not rebuilding: it is what it is, not a darn thing we are going to do about it. So bit by bit, step by step, we will do something else, we will create something else, and we will build something else.