How does one come to care about a place, about a community? Is it a straightforward path of experiences and relationships and memories, or is it a winding road of growing, of learning what is important to you, what you care about and what you cherish?
Learning to value the community I now live in and the importance of sharing my climate story took some time, but I think I am on the right path.
My first steps on that path started in northern Minnesota: sledding in the winter, spending summers near the water, and exploring the trails and woods behind my house. The trail was pretty straightforward until I was 14 and my family decided to move to Dhaka, Bangladesh. Previously, I had only traveled to Montana, Arkansas, and Ontario, Canada. So, there was a TINY bit of culture shock as I stepped off the plane, and a wave of heat and humidity hit me in the face.
Growing up in a family and community of privilege, I had been sheltered from many of the realities of the world, from inequality, hunger, and polluted air. While I had to leave the US to truly start my journey of understanding the necessity of climate justice, the numerous stones I stepped on in my path led me to realize that we are all connected. We all must take action against the unjust impacts of climate change.
Follow me as I take my first step, or leap, toward that realization.
Dhaka is one of the most densely populated cities in the world, and at the time it was hard to find a natural place that was not covered in plastic and other trash. My time in Bangladesh and its surrounding countries was truly eye opening and grounding in helping me realize what people around the world face when trying to find clean water to drink, enough food to eat, and work that supports their family. While the path felt unfamiliar at the time, these were important steps in realizing the power the climate has on communities and that you cannot have climate justice without social justice.
Time passed, my trail was easy and straightforward, and I could fall back into my day-to-day activities, burying my head in the sand a bit and not worrying about ‘big issues’ like climate change or climate injustice.
Further down the path, I joined the Peace Corps and was off on a plane again, moving to far eastern Ukraine.
While learning enough Russian to be able to buy groceries and explore the industrial city of Lugansk, I noticed how reliant the local economy was on coal mining. I woke up hearing the whistles of shift change and saw workers walking down the street, covered in coal soot. The markets and bars were busy on payday, and it was clear that without the mine the neighborhood would suffer greatly. Meanwhile, many of the buildings nearby were stained black, a harsh reminder of the impact the mine was having on everyone’s health.
Another turn in the trail, and I was living in rural Wisconsin in a community of transition. The county I lived in was in the midst of a sand boom. Sand mining, removing sand for fracking for oil in Oklahoma and Texas, was changing both the economy and the relationships of the entire region. Local farmers, who for years had dealt with lower prices, had the opportunity to make quick money by selling mining rights, and many took it. This infusion of millions of dollars was sending house prices soaring and hurting community relationships; neighbors were understandably frustrated and concerned about the demolition of entire hillsides and the possible impact it could have on water quality.
Again, the path winded over a rise I couldn’t envision, and I found myself living in coastal Alaska, a step away from the most pristine wilderness I could ever imagine. Daily interactions with musk oxen, sea otters, and eagles only strengthened my understanding and resolve that while the world is a big place, there are so many connections that we cannot possibly do any of our work in isolation.
These experiences have pushed me and turned me around. They brought me back on a path toward knowing that sharing the importance of climate action is where my trail leads right now. It took me quite a bit longer than it may have for others. My privilege could easily have allowed me to keep my blinders on to how we all are impacted by climate change and climate justice, but definitely not on equal terms. My path required me to leave the country and see new experiences and cultures and people to be able to open my eyes to how my own community was, and will be, impacted by climate change.
I now know the only way my path will ultimately lead me to where I want to go is by engaging, supporting, and empowering my community to come together and demand action and resilience on the climate crisis.
Seth joined Climate Generation in 2020 and coordinates the Teach Climate Network, helping the education program to create powerful professional development opportunities for educators across the country. Seth is a member of the Midwest Climate Collaborative’s Community of Practice Fall leadership team, and coordinator of the Teach Climate Network Cohort Collation. He recently returned to his home state of Minnesota after five years in coastal Alaska and was able to see firsthand the negative impacts that climate change is having on rural communities. Seth is excited about sharing his experiences in environmental education and positive youth development with the climate change education community.
