during january of 2024, i was able to visit st. vincent in the eastern caribbean to learn more about the land and society there. our small research team visited villages in the north leeward part of the island, listening to people’s stories of the 2021 la soufrière volcano eruption. we heard how people disregarded evacuation orders and stayed in their homes, what it was like to be displaced and navigate aid and public shelters, and how the community was brought together for a short period as a result of this devastating event. ash from la soufrière covered the entirety of the island for months, ruining most crops and livelihoods. some of these stories are collected here. thank you to everyone who contributed to this collection and may these stories and photos bring you joy, laughs, humility, gratitude, and respect.

click on the presentation below to read the full story:

on may 25, 2023, the supreme court of the united states unanimously ruled in favor of the sacketts in sackett v. epa, a case that challenged the jurisdiction of the clean water act on an idaho couple’s private land. the outcome has far-reaching, detrimental impacts on the protection of wetlands, resulting in as much as half of the 118 million acres of wetlands in the u.s. no longer being protected by the clean water act.

wetlands are important for a host of reasons, such as improving water quality, providing wildlife habitat, producing food and medicines for people, and especially, providing flood protection. the effects of this court ruling may be felt particularly hard in places like vermont, where only 5% of the land is wetland, annual average precipitation has increased nearly 6 inches since the 1960s to over 40 inches, and most extreme weather events involve intense rain or snow and flooding. 

during tropical storm irene in 2011, a study found that the wetlands surrounding otter creek in central vermont diminished the damages to the town of middlebury by 84-95%, saving potentially $1.8 million. vermont has some of the more robust wetland protections in the country, but following the supreme court ruling, the obligation of wetland conservation now lies with smaller-scale conservation. the necessity of wetland protection is evident for the health and benefit of ecosystems and people. what exactly can this conservation look like? 

holding back the water

nature centers like the north branch nature center (nbnc) in montpelier, vermont increasingly stand at the fore-front of conservation efforts that not only protect the surrounding infrastructure of wetlands, but also provide visitors with an important connection to nature and a place to process the effects of recent floods. catherine griset, the community engagement coordinator, described nbnc as “montpelier’s backyard, a place for people all over central vermont to connect with nature, either through our programming, or just through the lands and the space that we have here.” 

this past summer and fall have been especially rainy in vermont. in central vermont, where montpelier is, rainfall broke records and areas suffered the worst flood damage in almost 100 years. a key part of flood protection is wetlands as they are essential in holding and slowing down water. nbnc’s 28 acres of land are alongside or within the floodplain of the north branch of the winooski river, with a majority being open meadow and then a corridor of forest along the river. griset described the floodplain land as “a natural space that, through history and historical trend of water and flooding, is a place where the river is used to overflowing its banks in some ways.” 

willows and other plants that have adapted to live alongside rivers and have deep roots to pull up a lot of water are stewarded to thrive at nbnc. the rest of the nature center is open field with trail networks and plants like cattails and alders that are used to inundation and holding the water. 

in early july, montpelier received over 5 inches of rain in one day. for a town that surrounds the north branch and winooski rivers at that confluence, the result was flooded basements and up to four feet of water on first floors in downtown montpelier. nbnc is a couple miles upriver from the town of montpelier and the impacts of the land being stewarded as wetlands and as part of the floodplain, were evident during this great flood. the presence of the wetlands not only protected infrastructure downriver, but also served as a community place for people to process their experiences and have space. 

providing space, growing community

nbnc offers children’s day camps during the summers and this year, within a day or two after the flooding, children and staff members were still able to safely be out on the land and connecting with the environment. 

this gave caretakers and parents peace of mind about childcare, despite the impacts of the flooding on their homes, businesses, and community members. nbnc staff reported kids processing the flooding through play, as well as talking and asking about what had happened. according to griset, kids did “pretend play of building towns and rivers and flooding the river and watching the impact on the town or figuring out small-scale ways that they could route the river around town.” young children were able to have more agency through playing and find a way to process what was happening to their community. 

nbnc did close down their trails to the public for a couple of weeks as they were full of standing water and they wanted to be cautious in terms of safety and trail degradation. but once trails were open again to not just campers, they hoped people would be “reapproaching the land, reapproaching the river.” 

looking ahead

griset shared that she personally felt “really negative feelings toward the river… like scared and mad and angry at it,” even though she knew that “all of those emotions didn’t actually need to be put on the river.” but through walking the trails and spending time at nbnc, she was able to reapproach the river and land, and start processing those feelings because of the space available. she hoped other “folks were able to come here and help heal some of that [and] start practicing thinking about the river in different ways, at least even just like noticing how it had changed.”  

while the supreme court has ruled in favor of exploitation and degradation of wetlands, the importance of wetlands to communities in vermont is unwavering. wetlands are able to buffer against catastrophic flooding while also serving as places of community gathering. in line with north branch nature center’s mission, protection looks like connecting people with the natural world and building community for the benefit of the ecosystem of which people are a part of. 

as the global temperatures increase, a big question that many are asking is, “how will we feed all of these people?”

in october 2023, i had the opportunity to visit some researchers, farmers, scientists, and others in the food and water realms in tucson, arizona, where climate change is being felt and lived by people on a daily basis. here are three main takeaways that stuck with me when i left arizona.  

1. listen and learn from traditional ecological knowledge  

traditional ecological knowledge (tek) is information held and created by indigenous peoples over millennia about their local environment, based on an understanding of humans’ interconnectedness with the rest of nature and living in right relationships with other beings.

tek has served native people as they continue to adapt and persist through drastically changing times. michael kotutwa johnson, ph.d., described his hopi ancestors and how they didn’t feel the starvation and poverty effects of the great depression because they were able to grow their own food.

even as drought affected many farmers at that time, because of the tek that hopi people had cultivated through deep relationships with their home over many years, johnson’s ancestors and people were able to feed themselves and persist. 

learning from the past and looking ahead, johnson said food security means making sure there’s food for his people’s future generations. this food must be culturally relevant, nutrient dense, and adapted to the local environment. in order to ensure security in the future, more biodiversity is needed in food. today, indigenous people protect 80% of global biodiversity.

this biodiversity is essential in food systems and being able to grow crops that are resilient and adaptable to the changing climate. one example of tek and resulting food resiliency is that hopi farmers have terraced their gardens, helping to hold and spread the limited rainwater that often comes in sporadic heavy downpours. by being able to slow water down and let it seep through terrace steps to all of the crops, more plants can thrive in an environment that receives under 10 inches of rain per year.

in order to be able to learn from others, you first need to respect them and be able to listen. director of the university of arizona water resources research center sharon megdal, ph.d., shared a concept about listening that she called, “two-eared hearing.”

she first discussed the native concept of two-eyed seeing, or etuaptmumk, where one eye sees the strength of indigenous knowledge and ways of knowing and the other eye sees the strength of western knowledge and ways of knowing.

the key is learning how to see with both eyes to benefit everyone. megdal extended this concept to listening—taking the time and being able to listen to many different ways of knowing and the knowledge that others hold. 

2. build and nurture relationships 

the listening that megdal spoke of is an essential practice in building and nurturing relationships. relationships are important in many ways for growing food and feeding people—connecting people to the land and water, and connecting people to other people.

johnson emphasized the importance of having a strong connection with place for his and other native people, which has facilitated the creation of tek. evidenced by the certain varieties and crops that hopi people have adapted to grow in the hot, dry arizona desert over millennia, is the tending of relationships with the land.

people need to understand where they are in the world in order to best grow food there. this is only possible through being attentive to the land, developing care for it, and “choosing to belong” as robin wall kimmerer says.  

another set of relationships is amongst people. at one point, johnson spoke of the capacity of the world to feed and take care of each other, if only people shared more. people are more likely to share and support others if they have a relationship and are able to trust and care for each other.

megdal commented on a similar idea, saying that a lack of collaboration is the root of many issues. instead, functioning relationships and making connections is essential in moving forward and supporting everyone.

senior research specialist at biosphere 2’s landscape evolution observatory (leo), aaron bugaj, discussed the importance of collaboration and vulnerability in people learning, understanding their limitations, and ultimately growing together.

at leo, people from different fields and areas of expertise meet every week to collaborate on their work in understanding systems and how water moves through landscapes. bugaj said of the team, “we have value to bring individually but we recognize we have to work together and be vulnerable. and that’s been really refreshing to see—i’ve never seen that in 10 years of academic science before.”

to move forward together, people need to first come together through building their individual relationships. 

3. balance is key 

when asked whether principles of tek can meet future demands of feeding 10 billion people, johnson’s response was an immediate “no.” even with the “indigenous ingenuity” of tek, unfettered growth is not sustainable.

the drive of consumption, exploitation, and extraction, which are all causing climate change, are pushing people out of balance and sync with the rest of the environment. many native traditions in the southwest say that nature keeps everything in check, in this case realigning people through famine and lean times.

unmitigated urbanization has negative impacts on biodiversity, water drainage, and climate. to move into the future, the need of communities in arizona must be rebalanced. rather than large-scale and highly dependent food systems, smaller communities, smaller farms, and more community work are necessary.

in early july of this year, much of vermont was hit by heavy rain and subsequent flooding. the central parts of the state have suffered the “greatest concentration of damage,” according to the national weather service. quite a few local daily and monthly rainfall records were broken, surpassing the highs that hurricane irene set in 2011. the only event that has caused more widespread damage was a great flood in november of 1927, before there was modern flood control in vermont. downtown montpelier, where the state capitol is housed, was underwater, seeing 12.06 inches of rain in july, an all-time monthly record.  

in the face of this destruction, loss, and suffering, what can people do? in much of vermont, people found hope and resources in community organizing and mutual aid. i spoke with andrés oyaga about the importance of resilient bipoc communities and change-making.

along with being the middlebury college climate action coordinator in the climate action program (cap) and an agroecologist, oyaga is also an organizer with the vermont releaf collective, which “cultivates connection, shares resources, and amplifies the voices of people of color in vermont within [their] focus areas of land, environment, agriculture, and foodways. releaf is a “collaborative ecosystem for growing power and community for [their] members.” some of the wisdom andrés shared is below, edited for length and clarity:

kym: could you share some of how you came to be where you are? 

ao: my mom, when i was growing up, was a house cleaner and my dad was a cook. both of them were in these regular jobs but both of them are very strong people, very strong willed people. and so they ended up both doing a lot of organizing in their workplaces. my mom helped start a day laborers union and my dad is like a union man. he’s very involved in the union at the place that he works. so both of them were very organizer-oriented people–they understood the importance of accountability and checking power and not ever feeling small. and i think both of them instilled that sense of responsibility in me and my brother and i’ve always been trying to give people a sense of power in community. that’s how i characterize and categorize my work. 

i worked with vermont releaf a lot, which is something that i started doing in 2021 when they first got founded. i was going to meetings and hanging out with them, but that was a really strong sense of community. releaf has been growing since july 2020 and decided to open these organizer positions. at the time, i was working at the knoll [middlebury college student run organic farm] and farming there and bringing bipoc folks out to farm together and was really interested in the foodways organizer position. it’s been really rewarding because what i get to do right now is just build community.

i remember going to my first releaf gathering in the summer of 2021. i was feeling a little homesick and it was also a very sensitive time. i think people were really overcompensating for like, decades of not talking about race or racism, and it was a little overwhelming because everyone wanted to talk about race and racism all the time. and they would often turn to the few people of color in the room to ask them to do the labor so it was nice to go to a space where that was why we were there–we were there to organize around racial equity but it wasn’t laborious. so i felt a sense of home and i’ve been trying to find a sense of that community since and i joined in order to create those kinds of spaces for other people. it’s really sweet and special that we’re creating an intentional community together. 

there’s a vulnerability that people come with. i think we all start from a place of deep trust with one another because releaf has this sense of solidarity with all of the people, all the members in it. when people show up to these community-organized conversations, i feel like a weight comes off all of our shoulders and we’re willing to commit to be open. i think because of the affinity space in such a white state like vermont, people show up needing that–willing to be a bit more vulnerable, willing to make those kinds of safe connections with people.

kym: how do you think releaf impacts individuals’ lives? and how does that in turn impact a more local community? 

ao: i see releaf really like an incubator. it’s a good place where people go to get recharged, network, have ideas, share ideas with each other, and then go back to their hometowns and have this more sense of self. i think coming into vermont and maybe you’re the only person of color in your workplace or you’re the only person of color in your community–you can just be on edge sometimes. so having a community where you can recharge, i think that gives us more confidence–it gave me more confidence. 

there’s this bigger community that’s holding me and so, in a way, i feel like i’m not learning the skills of how to be an organizer, but i’m having the friendships and the networks and gaining the sense of courage from these community members. i’ve learned a lot from releaf members, like a lot of the people in releaf are community organizers, either as their job title or informally. i feel like it’s a really important place for people to just put their heads together and talk ideas out and so many cool things have come out of releaf and gone down their own little path. 

community dinners and conversations really just hold people. one of the greatest things about releaf is that we don’t claim ownership over anything, we really just love to facilitate spaces where people can do their own thing. but there’s someone to pay for the food, get a venue, really hold and organize these kinds of spaces. i think our biggest contribution to the bipoc organizing scene in vermont is holding space for people. 

kym: how does this community influence people’s responses when impactful events, like the floods, happen? 

ao: when the floods happened, the listserv that we have was going off. some people were sending updates like, “hi, i live in barre, and i’m okay.” which is great. there’s other people who were like, “my culvert is out, does anyone have recommendations?” and there’s also people who were just offering. there’s one person who was offering somatic therapy–come and dance and help calm your body in these flood moments. there’s people sharing information about like what small business association loans are available and here are some grants from nofa [northeast organic farming association of vermont]. and then there are people who are like, “can people come and help me?” and people were showing up to help them out. 

i think it’s important because it’s such a place that you can just call into the void and ask for help and someone will always echo back, someone will always respond. that’s why it’s important to have that for bipoc folks because oftentimes in a community space, there’s a lot of microaggressions and racism that can affect a community. having an affinity space where bipoc folks can feel like they can rely on other bipoc folks to support them in a moment is kinda great. and there’s also a sense of solidarity that we have to help one another in a state like vermont. that’s why the listserv and releaf are an important model. i don’t think they necessarily exist in other places in the country, maybe because there isn’t the same need, but in vermont, i think bipoc folks feel really isolated. releaf is important because especially during the flooding, we were there and we held space again and people were emailing and trying to coordinate help. what releaf does really well is that we are all bipoc folks, that is what brings us together. and yet, we have so much difference. there’s so much diversity within our community. rather than siloing ourselves, we’re trying to create a safer space.

i grew up embodying these legacies, learning to take as much of what’s given because you never know when the safety around you will crumble away. to watch out for myself and my people and always be aware. to be skeptical and cautious and prepare for the worst. while i believe that people are intrinsically good, i also carry practices of not trusting those around me. these lessons are rooted in experience, resulting in constant precautions.

my family home has weathered break-ins and my father’s car was recently stolen a few streets from our home. i’ve been harangued on the street for seemingly no reason (was it because of who i am? what i look like?), questioned about where i or my family are from or what my “heritage” is seemingly a billion times, made to feel small and incompetent simply because i didn’t look like anyone else present or like anyone who had been present before. in the name of protection, i was raised with a scarcity mindset, as well as my forebears’ belief in the american dream. 

learning about trust on huahine

this past fall, i had the incredible opportunity and privilege to study in the south pacific. one of the professors, josiane, is a tahitian ethnohistorian, teacher, author, botanist, linguist, and wonderfully kind person. in discussing culture and community in the french polynesian islands, she said, “you can’t trust someone who doesn’t trust anyone.” other similar maxims exist – trust people and they will become trustworthy. over the last few years away from home, i’ve learned about more worlds than the childhood worldview i grew up with.

i’ve worked hard to assume the best intentions and motivations, love all people, have empathy, and be generous with second, or more, chances. but in the rigid, individualistic cultures prevalent in the u.s., i’ve struggled with the balance of giving the benefit of the doubt while also still remaining safe. spending time in french polynesia, i was exposed to a different, more trusting lifestyle. i began to understand how these community values can be one of the most important ways to tackle climate change. 

some of the highlights of my time in the south pacific were on huahine, where josiane lives. huahine is known for its strong womxn, pride, and self-sufficiency. people live intentionally, practicing culture and traditions as their ancestors did. most of our programming that week was focused on learning about life there, especially related to food, as well as connecting with josiane’s home and friends. one whole day was spent with all of our professor’s friends at a couple’s, sofia and gus’, home and garden. they live off the grid with solar power, big rainwater tanks, no doors, barely any walls to their house, a couple of sailing canoes for transportation, and composting toilets, buying minimally from the island’s grocery store.

my class spent the morning walking through the huge garden with sofia as she told us about many foods i had never even heard of, as well as how they like to grow. she passed on so much of her knowledge in a couple hours, replete with years of best practices, things she had learned from just trying–planting seeds in every single place imaginable to see what conditions and companions each plant liked. the rest of the day was spent with all of josiane’s friends preparing a huge meal.

from each we learned different skills, ideas, and values. together, we husked coconuts, cracked them open, shredded the meat, squeezed the shreds to make coconut milk, made bowls out of the coconut shells, made coconut pancakes with the meat and fresh cassava flour we ground, chopped up a beautiful fruit salad and greens salad, and made carpaccio with fish they had caught yesterday. i talked to one about jewelry and traditional polynesian craft. another showed me how to better husk coconuts. one heard us mentioning a fruit that we’d never tried and shortly thereafter presented us with the fruit prepared in its juiced and fermented form. there was an air of abundance, of both time and joy.

sharing knowledge, building community

all of the food, knowledge, and skills to prepare this feast came from the garden and people present. all were open, willing to teach and to answer our (silly) questions, and they moved with grace and gratitude in the time we spent together and the generosity of the earth. the lack of hesitation in welcoming a group of foreigners into their community, which had never before been done, the generosity with which they shared their knowledge, demonstrated clearly to me what living closely with the earth can look like, in reality.

i had read and theorized and imagined and envisioned back in my ivory tower at school, but this was a genuine way of living that was joyful, fulfilling, and full of love. all of the friends knew nature’s rhythm and showed their gratitude to her by living in relationship with every other being. and they all did this in community. although it was sofia and gus’ home, all of the friends, and then us students, too, were so invited and so comfortable that we moved around their home with ease and care.

together, the friends, each offering their knowledge and skills, teach workshops to the surrounding polynesian community, not open to any tourists, of how to live close to the earth and use low-tech devices like sun-drying food racks and rocket stoves that use little wood. not only do sofia and gus exemplify a life with little harmful environmental impact, they also share that with many others, helping build and give to a community. 

a pampelmousse for everyone

another memorable experience of kindness was on nuku hiva at the arboretum papua-keikaha. the arboretum aims to preserve native and culturally significant foods, while also helping provide food to the community as the island has been stricken with drought for many years after the introduction of palm trees for plantation farming by colonizers.

when we reached the citrus groves, the man giving us the tour picked a few different pampelmousse (or, grapefruit) for our sampling. there were four different varieties that we were able to try and after our murmurs of deliciousness, he started picking pampelmousse after pampelmousse, handing them to people and telling us to take them with us! we were overwhelmed with fruit; everyone had at least a couple in their hands. whatever backpacks people had brought with them were overflowing with fruit. he was incredibly giving, wanting to share his work and the food important to his people.

had the citrus not gone to us, it would’ve, along with the rest of the fruit produced at the arboretum, gone to local schools for lunch meals. but it wasn’t a question of saving the juicy, ripe fruit for the schools, more of an assumption that there were visitors to this place and when they left they needed to take something with them–a mark of the kindness and mindset of abundance in people.  

living in rhythm with nature

building and extending generosity and trust in communities is an important way to address climate change. all of josiane’s friends and the man at the arboretum showed me this explicitly. they produce their own food, take and emit little in terms of housing, transportation, or waste, and share what they know with others so more people can live with the land. in recognizing the earth and others’ generosity, there is more gratitude, which can develop more responsible and intentional living. knowing that the breadfruit trees are abundant when they fruit and having gratitude for the amount of food the earth provides leads people to make sure they steward and care for those trees and do what they can to make sure they can keep reproducing year after year.

rather than keep these ideals siloed and individual, sofia exemplified these values in her community. she trusted a group of foreign students she had never met before to walk through her garden and harvest all kinds of food on our own. she, and the rest of my professor’s friends, shared their time, their hard work, and their knowledge with all of us. from that day, i truly came to understand that it’s possible to live in right relation with the earth, surrounded by and embedded in a community.

the people we met have little negative and harmful impact on the earth while teaching others to live closely, not pollute nor emit, and bask in the generosity of the planet and reciprocate with care for the land and waters. climate change has and will bring food scarcity, individualism and escapism, irregularity and the inability to depend on historically accurate cycles or trends, resulting in barriers to community building. but in building communities that are trusting, kind, and generous, that live in rhythm with nature, climate change solutions become everyday actions that are accessible and contagious to many people. 

developing the capacity to trust is not an easy task, nor is it fair to ask uniformly of all people. some people are skeptical, self-protective, and wary for good reason. the world they live in is not built for them or their benefit, happiness, or ability to thrive. bad things can and do happen. greeting the world with trust and care can sometimes take an unexpected or harmful turn. 

it begins and ends with trust

at the end of the program, my family came to visit and spend the holidays together. within a couple of days, i noticed the generosity and goodwill i was accustomed to greeting and giving out shifting a bit. it was raining as my family drove up a narrow, bumpy, dirt road looking for our rental house. not a good road to be on in the rain with a tiny car with tiny tires. when we reached what seemed like the end of the road, with no luck on finding the house, a person came out from his home and tried telling us in mixed french, tahitian, english, and hand gestures to turn around and get off the road. it made perfect sense to me and i thought i understood what he was saying.

but for the others in my family, having just arrived in the country, they didn’t expect this behavior. this man was standing out in the rain, having come out of his house where we were on his property, telling us with zeal to turn around and leave. as the guy tapped on the window again to emphasize that we needed to go, someone said, “roll the window up” as he was speaking. i was astounded and frustrated! this person was trying to help, to be kind. i trusted him and saw the generosity, whereas that wasn’t shared within my family.

they did not expect interactions with strangers to be filled with generosity. it’s hard to be generous without trust and it’s hard to trust without being part of a community. with a little bit of trust in someone else, they will put a little bit more trust in you, as josiane says. that trust is the foundation of relationships that become communities, which can be filled with generosity and openness. community building is one of the most essential ways to contend with a rapidly warming world where suffering abounds. trust people and they will become trustworthy. 

i’m sorry for bringing you into this world. it must be stressful and unfair and frustrating. it already is here in 2022 and has been for many, for years. but i would hazard a guess that this is a scary time to be alive and growing up so i’m sorry for putting this upon you. but truly, i’m happy that you’re here. i’m excited for the life you have to live and the growth that you will go through. while it may be hard and daunting to keep persevering and making change, you can do it. 

it was very conflicting for me thinking about having kids. towards the end of high school and beginning of college, i didn’t want children because i was scared of the future. i didn’t want the responsibility of making that choice to put people through a messed up world of crisis after crisis. i had little hope for the future. i was never able to imagine anything at all. people all the time would ask, where do you want to go to college? where do you see yourself when you graduate? in five years? in 10? in 20? who knows?? when i pictured the future, i saw nothing besides darkness. i couldn’t form a single vision or even see an exaggerated destructive future.

the media and ideas that i surrounded myself with were often bleak regarding the state of the world. there would be at minimum 2°c of warming if action was taken as soon as possible in 2022. aggressive, immediate, widespread action. and with that warming and the unknowns of tipping points and albedo, a potential runaway greenhouse effect. oceans warming and acidifying, changing currents and air circulation, completely reshaping the planet. plants and animals going extinct every day, that leaf on the evolutionary tree of life gone forever. extreme weather events whiplashing between massive droughts and mighty floods, heat waves with blazing fires and ice-free winters. sea levels rising meters and meters higher, swallowing islands and coasts, forcing people out of their homes and closer and closer together. the list goes on. 

and now i’m sure you know all of this intimately. you see it and experience it every day. and other people are more at risk than you. the world for so long has been fraught with inequity and oppression. i hope that the communities we live in now are more kind and caring than what pervades today. we’re so caught up in disavowment and deregulated capitalism in favor of a habitable future. i’m sorry. 

but you being alive is proof that i have always cared about you before you even came into existence. back when this letter was being written and even before, i was concerned. i mean of course, i’m constantly concerned. but i was concerned about the future and our planet and the people to come after me. one time, a guest speaker in one of my classes with bill mckibben told us about a study that had just come out about young people (gen z) and our anxiety about the future. most young people were concerned. and most young people also didn’t want to have kids because of climate change and the scary future. but, the guest told us, if you’re here in this class right now and concerned, you go have kids. pass on those genes that care. especially because we know that the people who don’t care will definitely be having kids and passing on their genes. hah yikes. 

while that seems so self-centered to have children so that my particular genes can be passed on, i guess it sort of made sense. if i cared about the planet and people and climate justice, why not get more people to care about that? about this time, i was learning that i really cared (care still? hopefully?) about environmental education. i wanted to get more people outside to recreate and learn about the natural world. i wanted to get people invested in our planet and help them make connections to places that were threatened. if they had an opportunity to spend time outside hiking and learning about different trees in the forest and how invasive species were spreading and threatening hundreds-of-years-old trees; or if they could paddle down a river and see acres of irrigated farmland and also nutrient runoff clouding the river; or if people were able to dive in the tropical oceans, that used to be way lower in latitude, and be surrounded by beautiful, colorful fish and notice the less vibrant coral that was slowly being bleached, then maybe people would understand. then maybe people would do something. build people power and change culture. that became my hope and goal. 

and now i’ve got you! you’re not just alive as a passing of my concerned (anxious?) genes. you’re here because children are our future. because young people are so incredibly powerful and moving. young people work so hard and have so many intentions and dreams and know how to imagine a world. young people picture a better future and work towards it because everything depends on that work. and through you, i’m reminded to keep working. i’m reminded that i can never lose hope and never stop because the future depends on it. my life might feel small or disconnected or powerless in the big wide world, but as long as i’m doing something that isn’t nothing, it’s something. and if i’m talking about that something and sharing that something and getting more people involved in that something, it’s helping. so thank you. 

this must be a lot to be growing up in this wild time. and a lot of pressure from the world and maybe from me in this writing. i, along with many others, especially at your age, used to feel the crushing weight of the entire world on our shoulders. it was easy to feel paralyzed by that anxiety. easy to pretend that everything was okay and other people would take care of it. so much more comfortable to do a tiny bit and hope that the world wouldn’t come crashing down on top of us. but it’s hard. and scary and tiring. while the weight of the whole world doesn’t rest upon your shoulders, do something. do something to make at least one person, one animal, one plant, one something better. use your imagination. picture the world that you want. and figure out how you can get there. i’m right here to help. what is your vision? 

and remember to love life. it may be hard. and without power and privilege in this world it is a lot harder. but please, create a life that you love. not every second is going to be happy. that would be unhealthy. but find your center and calm. find what grounds you and brings you joy and nourishes you. and remember those things. remember and cherish the smallest instances of stopping to stare at a lovely flower in the busy city. of listening to the waves as they roll and crash and feel the grains of sand beneath your feet. breathe in and smell the freshness and crispness of the clean, cool mountain air as it revitalizes you. my whole heart is with you. 

♡ with love 

ice plant is a succulent-looking plant that is native to south africa, a place with a similar temperate climate to the coast of california. ice plant was probably brought to the pacific coast in the 1600s with colonization, but started its boom with purposeful and widespread planting in the early 1900s. continuing until the 1970s, people believed that the drought resistant, quickly growing mat-like structured plants were beneficial for sand dune and soil erosion. they thought that these non-native plants would hold sand in place better than the native shrubs and allowed ice plant to thrive as it took over dunes and out-competed native plants. what people know now is that the ice plant is extremely aggressive and actually destabilizes soil as its leaves are big and heavy, good for storing all of the water it sucks up without losing much, and the roots are shallow, clinging to the soil tightly, increasing erosion and the frequency of landslides. the mats of ice plant build up so much biomass that the soil below sometimes, unexpectedly, collapses. 

at the time, in the mid-2000s, as i wandered the marin headlands with my other eight year old classmates, one practice to try to eradicate ice plant was to physically crush it. so in learning about watershed systems and local ecology, we also walked up to the top of some sand dunes overlooking rodeo beach and discussed ice plant and the harm of the wildly out of control plant. then, each of us took a turn pickle-rolling down the dune, smashing as much ice plant as possible under our little bodies. and making sure we avoided the abundant poison oak also surrounding us. the instructors there at naturebridge in the headlands then pointed to another portion of the dune that had no ice plant on it. they told us, see, this is where another group rolled before and look! now there’s no more ice plant. and i felt like we were really doing something! just from rolling down a sandy hill, i could help get rid of this bad (invasive) plant that was crowding out the good (native) plants. 

here we are in the spring of 2022 and i am still doing the same thing, but a little differently and having learned and grown a lot in the years since third grade. i volunteered one saturday in february with the big sur land trust, pulling ice plant from martin dunes in marina. the day started by getting picked up by a friend, the volunteer coordinator for the land trust, so we could all carpool. we headed to marina and drove through dry, tired-looking agricultural fields, arriving at a badly rutted dirt parking lot. though there was a deep pit with various tire tracks through it in the middle of the lot, the dirt looked like it hadn’t seen rain in years. and it probably hasn’t. or at least seen enough of it. once all of the volunteers assembled, we ventured out to the beach and then along the dunes to an unmarked trail of sand between dunes that wrapped to a couple of decaying wooden picnic tables. and for the next couple of hours, we all worked by hand to pull out as much ice plant as possible and lay it root-up in piles in the sun so that the plant would die. something that has changed in my time since rolling over ice plant in the headlands til now has been my deep immersion into climate change and environmental justice. and what i noticed while ripping plants out of the sand is that ice plant is just like climate change. 

you need to get to the mother root 

ice plant generally has one big main “mother root.” there may be smaller sections of root that spread out and run right under the sand, but they all connect to this one thicker root. same with climate change. when looking at the climate crisis, there are so many different aspects to get invested and discouraged by. there’s the acidification of the ocean and collapse of marine systems and food and livelihoods of millions. there’s the deforestation of the planet’s lungs and burning of the very trees that make it possible for humans to breathe and survive. there’s the growing variability and inconsistency of global circulation patterns and currents, the driving forces of all global systems. what gives the planet weather and climates and moisture and nutrients and much more. and with that, the increased frequency and intensity of extreme weather events that our human systems don’t have the capacity or care for. every season is record breaking and one day may bring intense heat while the next has intense rain. weather whiplash. there are polluting power plants in the backyards of communities that have long disproportionately suffered the harms of a small group of elites prospering. there are millions and millions of refugees, fleeing instability, violence, climate disasters. and this is just a glimpse. you need to get to the mother root. the other roots may be thinner and slippery, hard to grab onto. or they may be in stringy clusters, difficult to continue to pull out of the sand. but all of them connect back to the mother root. what connects all of these different injustices and the destruction and suffering? climate change is rooted in the separation of people from the rest of nature and prevailing mindsets of domination, extraction, and exploitation. this disconnect between people and the environment looks like the proliferation and thriving of colonialism and racial capitalism. the whole plant can’t be killed until the mother root is found and yanked out, laid down to dry in the sun, and decimated by the power of something much bigger and stronger than it. 

the sneaky bastard is everywhere, especially where you don’t expect it 

don’t forget to give ice plant some credit. it is a sneaky bastard. and if you don’t look closely and with an eye for it, it can evade your gaze, hiding under other plants and intertwined with the beautiful plants you do love. that bastard of colonialism is much the same. until you open your eyes and are able to see the tricky ways of colonialism and exploitation, you might not see the small patch of ice plant hiding under the shelter of the taller, native saltbush. and these ideas of domination and extraction seem to have proliferated almost everything. if you look closely, at the toaster that you can buy for $4, past the convenience and ease and higher standard of living for most people (alongside much larger gaps in equality) you see metals and other materials that have been mined in all parts of the world and then shipped somewhere else to come together in manufacturing and then sold somewhere else. these areas are where people aren’t paid a fair and livable wage for the work they do. and where the natural environment also pays the price in having its soul and structure extracted in the cheapest, often more destructive, way possible. and maybe these people or companies or countries don’t have a choice in how they contribute to the global market. trading their mined exports for more accessible imports and safety and a better relationship with the powerhouse countries that have gotten to where they are with centuries of colonialism. colonialism hides along in the shadows, creeping on through, touching all in sometimes not fully seen and understood ways. all issues and injustices today can be traced back to a disconnect between people and the environment. this mindset that is essential to colonialism, of domination and disrespect for other beings, leads to extraction and exploitation, now so widespread that people are actively killing other humxns, animals, plants, the future. these destructive dominant ideas also only accept and duplicate themselves. as audre lorde wrote, “the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.” hierarchies reinforce themselves so that those with power can stay in power. mats and mats of ice plant are pulled out, only to reveal oxalis below them, another invasive plant. the small green sorrel leaves peek in between fingers of ice plant, finding shelter and protection within another invasive. the name of the game is exploitation and there’s a race to the bottom. 

she’s an octopus! novapus? decapus? why so many arms?  

the surprising part of needing to get to the mother root of ice plant is because with its sprawling mat-like structure and arm after arm after arm of plump, icy fingers, you’d expect there to be roots all along each string of the old thing. but that’s not the case. all of these arms stretch out from that one main root and spread, intertwining, interweaving, becoming complex, and sometimes simple, and creating a messy, complicated front. and the climate crisis is the same way. upon first look, all you see is a big tangle of mess that is difficult to even know where to start. but when you creep a little closer, you can find the end of one arm that you can grab onto and see where it leads. there are many different access points, because everything is related to the climate crisis. you can start pulling up ice plant on one side or another or another or another and you’ll still end up working towards that mother root. everyone needs to be involved and invested in climate justice and the equalizing part of the climate crisis reaching everyone in some regard or another is that no matter your interests, strengths, values, passions, you can do important work. the art and culture that you create contributes to helping people imagine and envision a more just future. the data you clean up and crunch can help create projections and models, laying out an exact timeline essential to policymakers and scientists. the love you have for hiking can be shared with others, helping to connect more people with the environment and their surroundings, in turn developing their sense of stewardship and responsibility in taking action. there’s infinite ways in to limiting the harm and suffering of the climate crisis. find the arm that stands out to you and start getting in there. 

you think you’re better than me? hah try again

ice plant was introduced to california’s landscape by people who thought they could control the environment with something new and different. but in reality, the native plants that co-evolved with the landscape over millions of years are much better equipped for providing the services their ecosystem needs than plants that have been blindly dropped into a different context. native plants know their areas and have mutualistic relationships. and so do indigenous people. people indigenous to an area have grown and lived alongside the same local context for thousands of years, cultivating knowledge in relationship with a particular place and all of the beings at play there. moving away from colonialism’s wrath of extraction and exploitation, people need to look to indigenous people for examples of how to live in reciprocal relationship with the environment and what living locally looks like. rather than techno-fixes and shiny new ideas or band-aid fixes like atmospheric geoengineering, we need to focus on communities and relationships. we need smaller systems where people rely on and steward the landscape they live in. we need to invest in communities and celebrate the local. these smaller scale models and practices of reciprocity and gratitude can be connected, creating worldwide change. 

let’s get nice and up close and personal 

looking over and across most sand dunes throughout california, you see a beautiful sea of red and green and varying shades of those colors. and that’s tons and tons of ice plant. it covers most dunes and even when people try to remove it, it comes back. and while climate change can be overwhelming and lead to dissonance because of the sheer hugeness of it, each and every person still needs to put in the work. it is hard work. pulling out ice plant requires you to use your muscles. you’ve got to pull with your legs lest you risk straining your back. it will get you sweating and tired and maybe sometimes discouraged if you look up at the pile of ice plant you’ve pulled out over the last 20 minutes and meanwhile one glance to the left shows one hundred times the amount of ice plant you just pulled out. it’s daunting and discouraging. and it takes hand pulling plants out twice before they stop coming back. supposedly. but your ice plant pulling does make a difference. no matter how little ice plant you pull out, getting out there, yanking a plant or two, and trying is something. as long as you are doing something, it’s important. and you never know what small action may lead to a bigger impact, especially on others. that one patch of sand you cleared may become the happy home of a native ca coastal buckwheat plant and feeding ground for native pollinators. and it takes hard work that is up close and personal. spraying ice plant with herbicide may not be the best way to eradicate the plant. there are unknown impacts and many times the plant comes back anyway. the way to engage with climate justice work is to get in there, get personal, confront the challenges, and figure out what you can do and how you can make an impact. there aren’t big blanket solutions that can be used, sprayed from afar and nonspecifically. take some time to figure out your skills, passions, and goals, and then get started. you’ve got to be face to face to find your grip on the plant. 

climate change and ice plant are more alike than they may seem. all people have a stake in climate justice because nothing in your life remains untouched by the environment and the harms of humans’ separation from the, especially local, environment. take some time to figure out how you are already up close and personal with climate change, and use your skills and experiences to find an arm of the plant that you can grab onto and start ripping away at. keep in mind the mother root and do what you can to eradicate it. look to others for knowledge and wisdom and invest in your surrounding community. one person can’t do it all but everyone needs to do something. it’s hard work but good work. and don’t forget to plant something new once you get that ice plant out.