Farzana Faruk Jhumu, a passionate Climate Activist hailing from Bangladesh, embodies a remarkable journey of resilience, determination, and unwavering commitment to environmental advocacy. Her foray into climate activism traces back to a pivotal moment in 2018, sparked by a conversation among friends about societal impact and the privilege of making a difference. This catalyzed the inception of “Kaath Pencil,” a heartwarming initiative aimed at spreading joy and knowledge among underprivileged children through educational endeavors. Farzana’s narrative intertwines personal growth with a profound awakening to the urgency of climate action, fueled by encounters with communities bearing the enduring scars of environmental crises like Cyclone Sidr in 2007.
Farzana’s evolution as a climate advocate unfolds against the backdrop of grassroots engagement and global collaborations, notably with initiatives like Fridays for Future MAPA and the Fossil Fuel Non-Proliferation Treaty. Her experiences at COP events, from COP26 to COP28, have honed her insights into the intricacies of climate policy and the imperative for decisive action. Through her role as a UNICEF Youth Advocate, Farzana champions youth empowerment, policy advocacy, and community resilience, embodying a vision of inclusive, impactful climate activism.
Photo credit : UNICEF Bangladesh
This interview delves into Jhumu’s remarkable journey, exploring her motivations, the challenges she faces, and the unwavering optimism that keeps her going. It’s a story that will inspire you to take action, no matter how small, and join the fight for a more sustainable future for all.
Can you please share a bit about your journey? How did you get involved in climate activism?
My climate activism journey started in 2018 when some of my younger brother’s friends and a few other friends were randomly discussing how privileged we were and that we should try to do something for society. I was completely on board, so later, we started a group called ‘Kaathpencil’ – our whole idea was ‘to make people happy.’ As we started KaathPencil, we began going to various schools for underprivileged children to provide them with free books. Then, around 6-7 months before COVID hit us, we started a school for children living in slums close to where I live. The school ran smoothly for 3-4 months, but sadly, we had to shut it down when COVID-19 happened.
While I was working on this project, connecting with the children, and figuring out what to teach them beyond the alphabet, I had also been educating myself on the climate crisis. This was especially true after hearing Greta Thunberg’s moving speech in 2018. I remember all those climate strikes and how climate change had become a central topic of discussion. While I was exploring and educating myself, there was one particular case I’ll always remember – a family that lost everything due to Cyclone Sidr in 2007 and had been living in this slum ever since.
Tropical Cyclone Sidr on the Bay of Bengal, November 2007 (Source: NASA Earth Observatory)
It was a long time ago, and I was very young at the time, so while I don’t have a lot of deep knowledge about Sidr, I still remember the massive electricity crisis that affected the whole of Bangladesh. We had no electricity in Dhaka for almost a couple of days. When the electricity came back, we only had one TV channel, BTV (Bangladesh Television), so I remember how glued we were to the TV, just listening to the news and wondering what was next. This experience left a significant impact on me.
While I never had to worry about that growing up, when I started talking to these families, specifically this family, it struck me how it had been over 12 years since Sidr and they were still suffering the consequences, even though so much money was raised for relief efforts. Later, I learned about Fridays for Future (FFF) and found out they had a chapter in Bangladesh through social media. I joined them, and upon joining, they asked if I could help maintain communication with the international community, to which I happily agreed.
Photo credit: Marie Jacquemin/Greenpeace
As I engaged with FFF’s larger chapter, I realized how different and vast their thought process was – they had a lot of knowledge about climate change and all the policies surrounding it. As FFF was growing around that time, we had many discussions on fundamental ideas, and I joined every single call. Being very new, I sometimes didn’t understand a lot of things in the beginning, but I participated anyway – I wanted to learn more and play a role.
Later, by the end of 2019, Fridays for Future started building its ‘Most Affected People and Areas’ (MAPA) chapter. The whole idea was to create a safe space for those in the Global South to discuss how climate change relates to them and how they could come to the forefront of the movement – it was more like a brainstorming session. So, that’s where we started.
Photo credit: UNICEF
And when Fridays for Future (MAPA) started, as Bangladesh is a vulnerable country, I got the opportunity to engage more. Coincidentally, COVID also hit at the same time. Throughout this entire consistent period, I tried to join every call possible, every meeting possible, reading every document they shared on how they relate with different campaigns, banks, finance, and economy. I tried to read and learn everything through that chat through Fridays for Future. Most of the time in Bangladesh, my responsibility was to communicate the information that was coming from there more to my community. However, Bangladesh was more focused on strikes, volunteerism, and action-based movements. That’s why Bangladesh gave me information on strike goals, agendas, and how to organize strikes. But at the same time, my knowledge was growing. Then in 2021, UNICEF International, reached out to MAPA saying they had a children’s climate risk index and wanted to publish a report with a forward. They needed some activists to write the forward and offer support, and they helped us write it. The four of us writing were Greta Thunberg, myself, Eric Njuguna, and Adriana Calderón. So UNICEF widely publicized it, and all the big news media covered it. After that, while still being a related member, I was volunteering in almost every group possible and every working thing possible. That’s why Fridays for Future, especially the MAPA chapter, became known – Farzana from Bangladesh was doing the work. When that thing started getting highlighted, UNICEF Bangladesh got to know that I existed.
Source: UNICEF
In 2021, we took a delegation from Fridays for Future – MAPA. Every delegation to COP was a huge task in 2020, so two years later, there was a huge push for youth engagement, and for the first time ever, Fridays for Future participated as a delegation. It was huge, and I was part of that team. We discussed how to reach out to the news media. That’s how I got more involved in international processes like UN processes.
At the same time, kind of funny, when we were supposed to go to Sweden for a four to five-day training program with UNICEF Sweden to learn more about what was going on, we ended up in London for a campaign against Standard Chartered Bank. It was a cleanup campaign because Standard Chartered Bank is a UK-based bank, but they are funding fossil fuels in 12 countries in Asia, and funnily enough, they were one of the best banks in Bangladesh. So they were earning our money, getting our money, and funding fossil fuels. Based on that idea, we did a campaign. But then my visa to Sweden was rejected because, fun fact: they told me that as a young woman who is unemployed, unmarried, and has no children, they think I will not return to Bangladesh if I got my visa. Feeling helpless, I posted it on Twitter, and luckily famous personalities like Greta, Vanessa, and others noticed it and started retweeting it. UNICEF saw it and claimed that I was working with them and that they were sending me. As UNICEF was also working with Sweden, they confirmed that I was going there for them. So, although I initially had to go to Sweden, UNICEF now knew me.
I came back, and UNICEF reached out to me again. They said they wanted to work with me and offered a new youth advocate position. It’s a voluntary position, but they would support me in different areas. I had always been passionate about UNICEF since my childhood from watching the Meena Cartoon, so I was very happy and said yes. That’s how I got involved with UNICEF and then with many other UN processes.
Fridays for Future is a movement with a goal to amplify the voices of frontline communities, their ideas, and ensure intersectional justice through climate justice. The Fossil Fuel Non-Proliferation Treaty is an initiative that pushes for a treaty to phase out fossil fuels. These are just a few examples, and I work with many other organizations like 350.org that are all involved in climate action.
Here’s how I see collaboration: Global climate action is a complex idea. Policymakers create policies, but national circumstances are also very important. MAPA, a grassroots movement, focuses on getting that grassroots work done.
When we talk about climate action, it’s crucial to understand that it’s a process. Initiatives like the Fossil Fuel Non-Proliferation Treaty, MAPA, or any others I work with all emphasize the importance of action. For example, in Bangladesh, ‘goat rearing’ was a form of climate adaptation effort for many many days, but without addressing the root cause of climate change, adaptation alone won’t be enough.
The same principle applies across the board. MAPA, the Fossil Fuel Non-Proliferation Treaty, or any other organization – the main thing is to make sure we understand the bigger picture. We need to know that if fossil fuels aren’t phased out, no matter how much adaptation or resilience we build, or how much we discuss loss and damage, nothing will truly work.
Similarly, if we don’t explore the connections between climate justice and issues like child rights and women’s rights, and if we don’t elevate the voices of the Global South, no matter how many initiatives we have, they won’t serve the communities most affected by climate change. Those who contribute the least to the problem are often the ones who suffer the most.
Initiatives like the Fossil Fuel Non-Proliferation Treaty address this with its three pillars: phasing out fossil fuels, ensuring a just transition for workers in the industry, and involving all stakeholders in the decision-making process.
You have participated in three COPs so far, from COP26 to COP28. What have you learned from these three events, and what do you think the next COP29 needs to deliver, from your experienced point of view?
My COP journeys have evolved significantly. At the first COP I attended, the focus was on advocating for more youth inclusion and discussions around climate change’s impact on frontline communities and the most affected people and areas. COP26 was more about following trends, media narratives, and learning how to communicate with a broad audience. Attending side events became a priority to gain a deeper understanding of the COP process itself.
COP27 and COP28, however, were more policy-focused, which aligns with COP’s core purpose. However, a key takeaway across all these COPs is the lack of public awareness about them. It’s become clear that we, the public, have more influence than we might realize. Unfortunately, powerful lobbies and the prevalence of capitalist mindsets make it difficult to have productive discussions. Trust in the process is waning because we haven’t seen enough bold decisions emerge.
Overall, I’ve learned the immense importance of COP policies. They’re not just events, but platforms for crucial decisions that ultimately impact local communities. It’s a two-way process, but COP doesn’t always reflect this. Every word, sentence, and contribution holds significant weight. The political nature of the climate space is undeniable.
Photo Credit: Marie Jacquemin
COP29 must deliver more concrete language on fossil fuel phase-out, and just as importantly, the financing required for that phase-out. Without these discussions, achieving the 1.5-degree target is simply impossible. My views, and those of the organizations I work with, are clear: we can’t address climate change without tackling both justice and financing issues. This year, COP29 will be heavily focused on finance, which is a positive step. However, it needs to deliver more concrete results.
The most critical issue for this year’s COP29 is undoubtedly the $100 billion pledge for climate finance. Developed nations committed to providing this amount annually to the most vulnerable countries starting in 2020. However, they haven’t met that goal. This year will bring a report detailing the amount delivered, by whom, and when. With this information, we can move forward and discuss a New Collective Quantified Goal (NCG) for future climate finance.
As a youth advocate for UNICEF Bangladesh, what campaigns or initiatives are you particularly excited about, and how do you see youth driving change in climate action?
As a UNICEF Bangladesh Youth Advocate, my role is twofold. One aspect involves policy pushing, lobbying, and advocating for climate justice and children’s rights. The other involves supporting initiatives and campaigns. UNICEF focuses on child rights and youth inclusion, but overall, as a youth advocate, I work in my field on campaigns and initiatives that I’m passionate about.
The campaign initiative I’m most excited about is capacity building. It’s not a one-day event; it’s an ongoing process to raise awareness and equip people with the knowledge to take action on climate change. I’m incredibly proud of the people working on the ground level who make my policy advocacy work possible. I appreciate and support every initiative people take at the local level. I see change coming through climate action, which has evolved beyond just strikes. People are taking innovative initiatives like vertical windmills – these are the kind of ideas I support.
Capacity building, in this sense, is a continuous process of teaching people how to take action. This action can be individual, local, national, or even involve policy, negotiation, innovation, or environmental research. Every change, big or small, contributes to progress. As a youth advocate, I deeply appreciate seeing people take action. We need to spread awareness about green jobs and how young people are using AI for climate action. These are all campaigns and initiatives I support, with a special interest in policy.
I want more people to understand policies and how to follow them. I don’t expect everyone to be an expert, but I want people to know that climate action isn’t just about planting trees.
Could you please share the story behind KaathPencil and its impact on underprivileged children, particularly in terms of climate education?
Initially, the KaathPencil campaign focused on basic climate education. When COVID hit and offline work became difficult, we launched the ‘Poribesher Proti Projonmo’ (PPP) (meaning ‘Generation for Environment’) campaign. The idea was to share knowledge through simple quizzes to reach our target audience. These quizzes weren’t just about finding the right answer; we used them as a springboard to explain the importance and connections behind climate issues. Then, we launched the ‘Act Now’ campaign, which covered climate change, child rights, and child abuse. We reached out to schools to educate students on these basic topics. We didn’t want to replace teachers, but rather to help students expand their knowledge and develop critical thinking skills. Our goal was to empower them to educate themselves.
The ‘Act Now’ campaign reached a significant number of students last year (around 48 schools in 2023). We’re planning another, more comprehensive campaign around climate change for this year (2024).
Sailing on the “Rainbow Warrior” of Greenpeace must have been incredible. What were the most impactful moments for you during that experience?
I could talk all day about how amazing the journey was! Our goal was to get more youth involved and create a more youth-friendly space within the activist movement. It was performative activism, which is different from my policy work, but that’s natural for activism, and I loved it. The Rainbow Warrior is a symbol of hope, and we wanted to show that young people can contribute in different ways, not just through flying or traditional means. Sailing was significant because it connected to the reality of our sinking island nations.
Photo credit: Suzanne Plunkett / Greenpeace
Everyone took the experience incredibly well. There was a huge strike happening in Glasgow at the same time, and we had volunteers and activists from various places joining us, making our movement feel bigger and stronger. That was a powerful message in itself. It’s hard to pick just one impactful moment, but if I had to, it would be a situation that wasn’t directly related to climate change.
The ship’s captain, a woman, faced resistance from the police who tried to stop the ship from passing under a bridge, claiming it was illegal. We were all on board at night, and the entire ship was wired with microphones, so everyone could hear the exchange. The captain was determined to take the ship under the bridge, even though the police warned it could damage the bridge.
The captain’s courage was inspiring. The Greenpeace crew assured her they would handle any potential damage, but she emphasized her responsibility to give hope to people who were watching. She took a calculated risk, and after successfully passing under the bridge (which was full of journalists covering the event), she explained her actions. She knew her job was to give hope, and she wouldn’t shy away from taking risks to do so. The fact that a woman captain took such a strong stance was incredibly impactful.
This experience connects to the work I do. I need to give people hope and maintain my own. Even when people don’t see the results of my work all the time, I know what I’m doing and why it’s important. That’s why I take calculated steps and risks, just like the captain. There are many challenges ahead, but sailing on the Rainbow Warrior showed the power of collective action, inspired me, and solidified my purpose.
Given the challenges we face, how do you maintain a sense of climate optimism? What advice do you have for others looking to stay hopeful and engaged in the fight against climate change?
For me, hope comes from the community I work with. The climate community is small, but we take care of each other. It’s not just about climate action; it’s about a broader movement for social justice, elections, women’s rights, and children’s rights. This sense of community is crucial because the movement itself can feel capitalist and broken. We face internal and external problems, so having good people to work with is essential.
The second source of my optimism is Bangladesh’s local communities. Bangladesh is a champion of climate adaptation because they have to be. People in the countryside and coastal areas have very little, and they are finding solutions. They inspire me because I have the privilege of things like food, water, and a house. This responsibility motivates me to work for them, as they can’t be activists or policymakers.
If you read stories or visit these communities, you see they don’t lose hope when they have to migrate. They are sad and feel the unfairness, but they remain hopeful. This is fuel for the entire youth movement, not just me. It’s also important to be aware of the many people working on solutions; that knowledge is supportive.
What’s your favorite local food? Does climate change have any impact on it?
I don’t have a specific favorite, but I enjoy Fuchka and Pitha. Climate change likely has a bigger impact on our cultural connection to seasonal foods. Pitha is traditionally eaten during winter, but with climate shifts, we’re losing this seasonal aspect. It’s not a direct impact on the food itself, but on the cultural practices surrounding it.
FuchkaNokshi Pitha
Tell me about a practice(s) in your culture that’s actually very sustainable and good for the planet.
There are SO MANY things! In Bangladeshi culture, we don’t believe in throwing things away. We use clothes until they’re unusable. This anti-consumerist approach focuses on getting the most out of what we already have. Even when considering eco-friendly options, reusing and repairing what we have is important because making anything requires resources.
Another sustainable practice is our local cuisine. We eat local and seasonal foods throughout the year, which minimizes waste and transportation needs. This approach reflects a long history of living in harmony with nature.
Photo credit: Eva Bronzini
What would your advice be to someone in the climate movement who feels hopeless and burned out?
I understand burnout – I experience it too. My advice is to know your capacity and who you’re working with. Don’t try to do everything, especially as a Bangladeshi youth. There’s pressure to be involved at every level, but every action counts.
Climate activism can take many forms. You don’t have to be a public figure. Identify your skills and how you can contribute. Whether you’re a doctor offering sustainable food suggestions or an engineer working on renewable energy, your individual actions matter. Start learning, value the people around you, and focus on your specific contribution.
I want to work on policy and potentially be part of the UN system. I see myself representing Bangladesh and working with UN agencies or even government agencies on policies related to climate change and energy security. I’m also pursuing a Master’s degree in energy security and policy to further prepare myself for this path.
Do you have an idol?
Yes, I have several! One is BTS. Their UN speech about inclusion and self-love resonated with me, especially for those feeling hopeless. They support the climate movement and youth issues, and their songs address mental health and social issues. Their lyrics are intelligent and deep, which I appreciate. Their music also helps me when I’m feeling burned out.
BTS (Source: Wikimedia)
Another idol is Amina J. Mohammed, the UN Deputy Secretary-General. She’s my inspiration – I see myself in a similar position someday. Seeing her navigate complex situations and lead the UN is impressive. She’s a role model for ambitious women.
For fun, I listen to a lot of music. I don’t have any specific hobbies, but I enjoy trying new things. I love the experience of exploring and doing different activities. Traveling falls into this category – I don’t get to do it often, but I love it when I can.
If I had to define a passion, I’d say it’s observing people. I do this with great interest. I try to understand them and see things from their perspective. I also enjoy talking to friends and meeting new people.
What’s your mantra for life?
It might sound a bit cliché, but it’s something I came up with when I started climate activism: “I don’t want to die because that’s the only thing I can do. I want to die because that’s the last thing I can do.” The idea is not to die in vain, but to make my life’s journey meaningful. Additionally, I follow the saying, “If you are the smartest person in the room, you are in the wrong room.” I don’t want to be the best in any space; that limits my opportunities to learn. I stay connected to climate activism but also explore other areas to broaden my knowledge.
That’s a fantastic question! The most important thing to remember is that anyone and everyone can join the climate movement and still be sustainable in their own spaces. This includes engineers, doctors, researchers – anyone. However, the climate movement we’re leading is specifically for those who want to focus their efforts on climate change. Fridays for Future is one example, and 350.org has a huge network within their organization. Women also have their own climate movement. Finding out what someone’s interests are is the key to finding the best way to get involved. Everyone has their own way of joining.
If someone’s interested in climate policy, they can join the Youth Constituency for the UNFCCC (YOUNGO). If they’re interested in following environmental policy, they can join the UN Major Group for Children and Youth. If they want to join Fridays for Future, they can find them on social media – every movement has a social media presence these days. If someone wants to learn about capacity building, they can join their local organization through social media. It’s very easy to find them. Joining a bigger movement is also an option. Fridays for Future has its own website, with details for every country. You can simply search for them.
So, joining the movement is very easy. But even if you’re not technically a member, you can still be part of the climate movement by taking action in your own space. This includes everyone – students, doctors, engineers, policymakers, lawyers, journalists – everyone!
This is part of a series where Green & Beyond Mag explores the stories and takes a peek at the lifestyles of incredible people like green entrepreneurs, innovators, climate advocates, activists, community leaders, and content creators, all around the world, who love the planet and are working tirelessly to make the world a better place.
Imagine a life dedicated to both environmental activism and personal growth. This is the world of Jessica Kleczka, a climate psychologist, activist, and communicator who believes in the power of collective action while navigating the complexities of individual well-being in the face of the climate crisis. Jessica’s journey, from her early connection with nature in a bustling city with limited green spaces to her current work as a climate communicator and climate activist, is a testament to the multifaceted ways we can engage with environmental issues.
Driven by a passion for both environmental justice and mental health, Jessica has carved a unique path in the field of climate activism. Her work delves into the intersection of psychology and environmentalism, exploring how our environment shapes our mental well-being and vice versa. In this insightful interview, she sheds light on the challenges and opportunities of communicating climate issues effectively, emphasizing the importance of fostering hope and agency amidst the complexities of the crisis. Jessica also shares her personal experiences with burnout and her ongoing commitment to sustainable living, offering practical tips, and strategies by embracing imperfect environmentalism for individuals seeking to make a positive impact.
Join us as we delve into Jessica’s unique perspective and discover how you too can contribute to a more sustainable future. As Jessica aptly reminds us, “We need millions of imperfect environmentalists rather than a handful of perfect ones.”
To start, could you share a bit about your journey – what moment sparked your personal passion for climate activism or environmentalism?
Growing up, I wasn’t really aware of the climate crisis – my parents were Polish immigrants in Germany and we lived in a tower block at the edge of a very polluted city. I did however have an intimate connection with the natural world – although my area was quite deprived, our housing estate was surrounded by wetlands, and I spent many happy hours playing outside with my friends. I used to collect many nature memorabilia – differently sized cones, shells, pressed leaves, and the like. And whenever we returned to Poland, we would spend weeks at a time in a cabin in the woods, foraging buckets of mushrooms and blueberries.
In my early teens, the wetlands around our home started to be drained and developed into housing for the growing working population – I lost what little access to nature I had, and I believe that this contributed to the many mental health struggles I experienced as a teenager. Most of my youth was too turbulent to even think about bigger issues like climate change – that started when I moved to London to go to university. I felt a lot of anger about the state of the world back then. I had gone vegan in my early twenties, mostly for health reasons, but it sent me on a path to caring about the bigger picture too. In 2019, I joined my local climate group and became a full-time campaigner alongside my university degree. It was a wild time!
Your work sits at the intersection of psychology and environmentalism. How do you see these two realms influencing each other, and what led you to bridge these disciplines?
Our mental health has everything to do with our environment, and vice versa. The state of our environment has a lot to do with how we function psychologically.
I originally planned to become a clinical psychologist after my degree, but decided against it when I learned how mental health care functions in our society. We’re quick to point to faults within the individual or their relationships with loved ones, but often neglect what’s around them. Do they live in a polluted neighbourhood? Is their housing situation secure? Can they buy fresh healthy produce? Do they have access to green spaces nearby? All of those things significantly impact our mental wellbeing, but are often forgotten about in mental health practice. As someone who grew up working class and lives with a disability, I’m particularly passionate about access to nature and how marginalised communities in particular often don’t have green spaces near them.
Photo by Johanna Makowski
There is also growing awareness that our disconnect from the natural world – starting with the early industrial period – is a major contributor to the environmental crises we’re dealing with now. Add to the mix that we haven’t evolved to sense excess carbon dioxide, and therefore don’t intuitively perceive it as a threat, and you’ve got yourself an issue that feels psychologically distant to many of us. Of course, many people are now waking up to the reality of the climate crisis, as it’s now happening on most people’s doorsteps – wherever you are in the world.
But the simple reason I’m doing the work I do today is because I didn’t want my job to compromise my advocacy work – I had to connect them somehow. After finishing my Psychology degree, I did another degree in climate change, and through a lot of introspection, I arrived at climate psychology and communication science. I owe a lot to my supervisors at university who gave me a lot of freedom to explore different aspects of these issues, and I absolutely love the work I get to do now.
One of your key areas is helping individuals overcome climate anxiety. How do you approach this challenge, and what advice do you have for those grappling with the emotional toll of the climate crisis?
Photo by Angharad Bache
The most important thing to know is that if you experience climate anxiety, there is nothing wrong with you. Psychologists don’t see climate anxiety as a mental illness – it’s a normal and even healthy response to the unhealthy state of our world and the ecosystems we so fundamentally rely on. But there is some alarming data – one study by the University of Bath found that almost half of young people feel that the climate crisis is affecting their everyday life and functioning. And once an issue starts affecting us on that level, there is a risk of it developing into a serious mental health issue.
I’m not a mental health professional myself as I went down the research route, so my work has been focusing on finding out more about how young people are affected by the climate crisis. I published a paper with Imperial College looking at young people’s experiences of climate anxiety around the world, and last year I worked on research examining climate anxiety and understanding in early childhood. There is still some work to be done to understand how we can best support young people, but one thing is clear – a lot of our anxiety is caused by government inaction rather than personal failure, and so climate action is the best way we can stem suffering caused by climate anxiety.
Photo by Andrea Domeniconi
A lot of this is also connected to how we communicate – we see a lot of doom and gloom in the media, and while we are in a dire situation, this kind of messaging will leave people desensitised over time, or lead to news avoidance altogether. It’s crucial that we find a balance between conveying the urgency of the situation, whilst communicating reasons to have hope and actions people can take in their own lives and communities.
Effective communication is a crucial aspect of your work. How can we employ more creative and impactful ways to communicate climate issues, especially to diverse audiences?
Early in my career when I worked in climate policy, our team used to create a daily climate news roundup with the headlines and team-specific topics like nature, waste or energy. What I realised during this time was that there is a lot of good stuff happening, but we rarely see it in main news outlets. The reason for this is that often small steps are not sensational enough, although over time, they help build momentum and the foundations for wider system-level change. But our brains have also evolved to pay more attention to negative information as a survival mechanism – media outlets know this and relentlessly exploit this information for clicks. But ultimately, while fear-based messaging gets our attention, sustained negative messaging on climate change will make most people feel overwhelmed and powerless. This is why I started the “Positive Climate News” series on Instagram in collaboration with Earthly Education, reporting on all those small wins we often never hear about. The series has reached millions of people around the world and inspired thousands to take action or keep going.
Last year, I was the Director of Research on “A New Era In Climate Communication” – a huge resource that is now freely available online. It reinforced what I already believed to be true – that hope is a crucial factor in inspiring action. But it also hugely depends on the audience. If someone doesn’t know a huge amount about climate change, they probably need to feel a little bit scared before being exposed to solutions-focused narratives – but I believe that the reason we see so much emphasis on hope and solution these days is because climate change has risen to be a top issue of concern around the world in the last five years. Most people are aware of it, and are at least a little bit concerned – so it becomes crucial to communicate that it’s not too late to avert the worst impacts, and that all the solutions we need are already out there – but what we need is action, all the way from the individual to the systemic level.
Your research delves into the mental health impacts of the climate crisis. Could you share some insights from your work, and what coping strategies do you find most effective?
Mental health is a big topic in the climate community. Every day we’re dealing with something that’s, frankly, quite depressing – but it’s also an incredibly exciting time to be alive.
Activist burnout is one of the biggest risks I encounter – I experienced it myself several times, and every time I had to take a big step back and allow myself to heal. Many of us are so passionate about our planet and its people that we take on way too much, and forget to look after ourselves in the process. Part of my work consists of training activists in how to recognise symptoms of burnout and take steps to ensure we stay healthy while fighting for a better future.
Some of the things I do in my life to avoid burnout are – spending at least an hour a day in nature with no distractions, setting firm work boundaries, and balancing the kind of work I do to ensure it feels meaningful and fulfilling. A big part of overcoming burnout was also to reconnect with the things that bring me joy and make time for them! Every morning after I wake up, I keep my phone switched off for a bit while I read a book and witness the world around me.
What role do you think climate storytelling can play in amplifying the voices and experiences of those most impacted by the crisis?
Stories are one of the fundamental ways humans have learned to connect and share information. Studies show that our brains retain a lot more information if it is presented in a story format, and they’re also an excellent way of communicating radical ideas whilst circumnavigating political polarisation. After my work as a climate communications researcher, I decided to take a step back from academia – both to recover from burn-out and put my learnings into practice. So this year I’m focusing primarily on my campaigning and creative work, utilising storytelling techniques to engage more people with environmental issues and getting them involved in building a better future.
At the moment, my partner and I are working on “Road to the Future” – a project documenting sustainable projects around Europe as a way to give back to the communities we visit in our home on wheels. The series will be hosted on @earthly.explore on Instagram and cover Spain, France, and the UK to start – if all goes well, we will continue in Scandinavia and Eastern Europe later this year! The vision behind this project is to spotlight environmental issues around the continent and what everyday people are doing to fix them, to inspire the next generation of change-makers. Climate action can look like many different things, so we want to show people practical things they can get involved in.
Empowering individuals is a key aspect of your advocacy. What, in your view, are some impactful yet practical steps that individuals can take in their daily lives to contribute to a more sustainable future?
Activism will always be the most impactful thing to do, because policy change comes with ripple effects that make living sustainably the default, or at least easier, for many. But I also recognise that activism is not for everyone. Personally, I’m also very passionate about sustainable living – it’s quite an exciting challenge to live with as little of a footprint as possible while still living your best life! I’ve been eating a plant-based diet for the last eight years, buying seasonal produce in whatever country I’m in, avoiding flying wherever possible, and taking the train when travelling between European countries. I live in a tiny space with my partner, we don’t buy anything new and are very mindful about driving. But I’ve also gone through periods of time when I was working a lot and had to prioritise campaigning over buying plastic-free all the time, for example. Sustainable living is tied to time privilege – and yes, it’s sometimes also more expensive. So if you find yourself struggling to be the perfect environmentalist in your own home, channel that energy into wider-scale systemic change instead!
Another thing I often say is that the most powerful thing we can do is to talk about climate. There’s still a phenomenon in our society called “climate silence” – because climate change has been politicised so much, many people feel awkward just talking about it. We need to normalise climate conversations as well as our difficult emotions the issue can evoke in us. And by sharing about the small things we do in our own lives to make a difference, we can normalise activism and dismantle the stigma that media narratives have woven to discredit our movement.
This one is our personal favorite – What inspired your decision to transition to a van life, and how do you envision incorporating sustainable practices into your mobile lifestyle?
My partner and I are both minimalists, and van life was a natural progression in our journey towards living a simple and sustainable lifestyle. I used to be a hoarder and really struggled to declutter my belongings at first – it took me about a year to get to the point where we could fit everything in the van, and we’re still selling and giving away some of our things here and there! But the process of emotionally detaching myself from my stuff was very liberating.
Part of my motivation was also the fact that I couldn’t work full time due to health reasons – I wanted a lifestyle that allowed a lot of freedom while working less and being close to nature. We lived in a small apartment for a year, working multiple jobs to save up for our tiny home on wheels – and we’re so grateful that we’ve made it a reality!
There are a lot of ways we live more sustainably on the road – the main aspect is that we’re not heating an apartment anymore! We did some maths and were surprised to learn that the driving we’re planning to do over the course of the year emits about a third less than heating the average home in the UK. Overall, our lifestyle emits roughly half of the average UK footprint. I’m not a big fan of how much we focus on individual carbon footprints nowadays, especially given that the concept was popularised by a fossil fuel company, but we’re both passionate about living small so it can be a useful metric.
Our plan is to spend the winters in southern Europe so we don’t need to heat our van, and summers in northern Europe. This also allows us to have plenty of electricity from our solar panel, which means we can cook without using gas. We try to limit our driving to one or trips a week, which we usually do for grocery shopping or changing our location. We have a 96-litre water tank which we fill up once a week – in comparison, that’s less than what the average person in the UK uses in a day. While we have a shower in the van we also sometimes wash in the sea or a river instead to conserve water. We have a compost toilet, only use natural products for cleaning and self-care, and we hold onto our trash, which we separate and recycle whenever we do a town run. We also buy package-free, organic, local, and seasonal produce as much as we can, which we’ve found to be a lot easier in Europe. Van life definitely comes with its own challenges, but it teaches you to be appreciative of resources – and waking up surrounded by nature most days is everything I ever wanted and more.
What advice would you give to individuals who want to make a positive impact but are unsure of where to start?
Start as small or big as you want! I’ve met a lot of people who found it easier to explore sustainable behaviour change first, making changes in their own lives, and then went on to become campaigners. But others will find it harder to change things in their own lives but prefer to advocate for policy changes. Some people do both. Some people prefer to go into a climate job and set firm boundaries between work and private life. I love the notion that we need millions of imperfect environmentalists rather than a handful of perfect ones – so I tend to encourage people to engage in whatever way is accessible to them, and not worry about the image they have in their head of what an activist, advocate or change maker should look like. I firmly believe that perfectionism is one of the biggest threats to our movement – we’re all fallible humans and doing the best we can. And so we should celebrate every little action that people do – be that a litter pick on the weekend, joining a protest, or introducing more plant-based foods into your diet.
For a long time, I was really career-focused – until I was lucky enough to get into my dream career, and realised it wasn’t what made me truly happy. I feel incredibly privileged to have come to this realisation, but it also means that my life is going through some big changes right now. For the next few years, I want to travel, meet like-minded people who are working to change the world, read lots of good books, and go on long hikes. I want to live life to the fullest while causing the least amount of harm possible. And who knows, maybe the next step is to move on a sailboat, or buy a small cottage in the mountains…
What do you do for fun? Any hobbies or passions?
Living in a van means that a lot of my hobbies are quite outdoorsy and related to my love for nature. My days usually start with reading a book, back doors open looking out on the sea, a forest, or the mountains. I enjoy walking and running as I often find myself in different landscapes, and when we’re near the sea my partner and I do quite a bit of paddleboarding and freediving together. I’ve been playing music since I was a child, and my partner and I are planning to learn sword fighting, which will probably be our most unusual hobby!
Change the things you can do something about, and make peace with things beyond your control!
Click to learn more about Jessica Kleczka and follow her journey.
This is part of a series where Green & Beyond Mag explores the stories and takes a peek at the lifestyles of incredible people like green entrepreneurs, innovators, climate advocates, activists, community leaders, and content creators, all around the world, who love the planet and are working tirelessly to make the world a better place
Carissa Cabrera, a dynamic force merging her roles as a CEO, accomplished marine biologist, recognized content creator by Harvard, and passionate advocate for environmental stewardship stands at the forefront of ocean conservation and climate activism. Rooted in her Ecuadorian American heritage and based in the vibrant landscapes of Hawaiʻi, Carissa’s life’s mission revolves around democratizing access to ocean conservation knowledge and empowering individuals to find their voice and purpose in the movement.
With a multifaceted approach to her work, Carissa serves as the driving force behind Futureswell, a platform dedicated to amplifying regenerative solutions for our planet’s most pressing environmental challenges. Through her leadership roles in various organizations and initiatives, including her work with community restoration groups and partnerships with renowned institutions like National Geographic, Carissa embodies the spirit of innovation and collaboration in the fight to protect our oceans. Her expertise in digital storytelling, project management, and science communication underscores her unwavering commitment to bridging the gap between scientific research and public engagement, offering a pathway for collective action and meaningful change.
My story is not special, and that is why I love it. I grew up as the child of first generation immigrants from Ecuador and Hungary. We lived in a desert, and I saw the ocean a handful of times in my childhood. But my dad took me snorkeling when I was a toddler, and I was never the same after I put on that mask. I grew up wanting to learn, watching National Geographic, and begging for more ocean experiences. I wanted to study marine science at a coastal school, but my scholarship required me to stay in the desert for college. I spent four years in college taking the few marine science classes my university offered, joining an ocean club, and developing skills like education and outreach. In my first marine conservation class, I learned about oil spills, unsustainable fishing, and mass extinction. I vowed to continue my schooling to protect these ecosystems, and found myself in a master’s program in Hawai’i in my early twenties. During my graduate work, I was studying the causes of death in dolphins and whales so we could better understand their threats and help address them. During my first whale necropsy, which is essentially a dissection, we found over 50 pounds of fishing nets and other marine debris in the stomach of a pilot whale. I was 23, looking at my colleagues, realizing I cannot save these animals without standing up to the systems that are harming them. I could not protect our ocean without sharing the stories of what’s happening to them as a result of our actions. And I could not be a scientist that did not actively participate in applying solutions to heal our ocean.
What led you to transition from the realm of scientific research to the power of storytelling as a tool for ocean advocacy?
When I pursued marine science throughout my graduate schooling, I was working under the impression that a deeper understanding of our ocean would mean more action to protect it. If we understood what was at stake, we would change. I realized very quickly that scientific research without an inclusive and accessible science communication strategy does not get applied. I transitioned to education to raise awareness around threats and solutions, but also explore creative ways to bring that education to the masses. Storytelling can be entertaining, personal, emotional, or joyful, and I believe all forms of storytelling are valuable for the ocean climate movement. Our individual stories can change systems through advocacy, and connect elected officials to solutions that can change the course of our climate narrative.
How do you see your work in ocean conservation intersecting with broader climate justice movements and initiatives?
The environmental justice leaders of our generation have raised the alarm on what intersectional activism means and changed the climate movement in a tremendous way. As our federal leaders begin to prioritize EJ in their practices, I’m particularly passionate about ensuring ocean justice initiatives are part of that conversation. Coastal communities are frontline communities, and disproportionately suffer from the impacts of the climate crisis like sea level rise, marine debris pollution, and extreme weather like hurricanes. The communities with less resources and access cannot be left behind as we adapt, mitigate, and transition within our climate future. This specific intersection is finally getting the attention it deserves, with the White House sharing its first ever Ocean Justice Strategy at COP28 in December 2023.
You empower young women to find their unique roles in the ocean movement. What advice would you give to a teenager or someone unsure where to start?
I would say you are needed, and we all start somewhere. We are all bad at things before we are good at them. We only become more confident through practice, and we have special gifts that can benefit our movement and protect communities and our planet. Teenagers today are some of the most educated and passionate environmental advocates, and they continue to inspire me in every initiative I work in. I watch elected officials listen closely to their stories, and they serve as a reminder to our leaders of exactly who will be impacted by the decisions of today. Their participation is a powerful tool, and I would start now. I firmly believe that over half of impact work is showing up, so that would be my advice. Show up, as yourself, ready to listen and learn, and magic will happen.
Imagine you could have a conversation with the ocean itself. What would you ask, and what message do you think it would convey to humanity?
This is a powerful question, and I believe I would only have gratitude to share with the ocean itself. I wouldn’t ask anything of it, because it has already given us everything. Our ocean is what made our planet habitable, where life began, the source of our fresh air, food, and biodiversity. I would just listen to what it had to say. I imagine it would be something along the lines of, “don’t forget where you came from,” as the ocean is so often left out of our larger climate discussions. I believe it would highlight that we are losing parts of our family here on Earth, with so many species facing extinction. These are our distant cousins and relatives. As humans, our extractive practices cause great suffering to the ocean, far more than many of us realize, and I believe the ocean would let us know.
While acknowledging the challenges, what practical steps or initiatives give you hope for a future where both ocean health and climate concerns are effectively addressed?
Personally, I carry the most hope when I’m working alongside local communities working to steward their own resources or working as part of an advocacy coalition. I fundamentally believe in a place-based approach to conservation and ocean climate solutions that is decentralized and led by the local communities that know their areas and environment the best. For example, indigenous groups that carry the wisdom of ancestral resource management should be informing planning activities for a watershed and ideally, consulting and leading the implementation. For all of us, tapping into these larger, community-based solutions is a matter of engaging with what’s going on in your specific community, and is unique. Joining a chapter meeting, attending a nonprofit event, and volunteering with a community group reminds you very quickly we are part of a movement so much bigger than individuals.
In reference to the ocean, I find so much hope in how much nature holds the answers. We call these technically nature-based solutions, but they are the ones that are built from the natural processes our Earth has refined over millions of years and practices by the original stewards of our planet. Some of my favorites are kelp forests, regenerative ocean farming, reconnection of ridge to reef watersheds through streamflow, preservation of apex predators to balance ecosystem health top-down, and closing areas of an environment from human pressures to allow them to recover.
We all experience fear or anxiety about the future of the planet. How do you navigate these emotions and maintain your dedication to activism and storytelling?
I view fear and anxiety about climate as part of the process. I believe they are valid, natural responses to the state of our planet and highlight our humanity. I spend time taking care of myself, feeling the full experience, and nurturing those sadder parts before coming back to my work. I spend time outside, I spend time processing with my colleagues at work, and I know what I need when something poor happens in our collective climate work. My motivation to continue doing this work is wrapped up in the need and my purpose. I never thought I would be a storyteller, I just saw a gap in ocean climate storytelling and knew we needed to fill it. We still need more ocean climate stories to integrate more perspectives into the discourse and reach our leaders.
I am by nature a hopeful person, I want to believe the best outcome is achievable. It has taken time for me to know that sometimes, we simply did our best and it is not always enough. Last year, an enormous climate policy I’ve worked on for years died one step before passing. It was the most severe loss in my career thus far, and taught me an important lesson that taking pause is not giving up. I have an unwavering dedication to the movement, even if I take pause from my work. When you acknowledge you are part of a collective, it is easier to see that we can take time to rest and recover as our neighbors carry the movement forward. That space I gave myself enabled me to return to advocating for this solution again this year. It also reinforced my personal belief that a primary difference between which ocean climate solutions pass and which ones that don’t is whether we give up or not.
I am more of an advocate for climate joy rather than optimism. Climate optimism describes the confidence in the successful outcome of our climate fight, which contradicts much of the IPCC data we have and continue to read each year. Progress is being made, and I believe progress will continue to be made, but I do not believe it will come from electric vehicles and carbon offsets. Rather, I believe in the slow and steady shift of our society’s values to one of connection with the environment around us, reciprocity with the nature that provides for us, and a return to the indigenous practices that sustained communities for generations.
Climate joy celebrates the progress we are making now, and the communities working to advance that progress. It celebrates the vast potential of today’s climate solutions, and today’s people power, and today’s fight to replace extractive systems with new ones. My experience with climate wins and losses is intimate, and I experience climate grief just like my peers. The work we are doing does not come with a guarantee, but it does not mean we shouldn’t do it. Frontline communities are suffering now, the solutions exist now, and we are far more powerful together than the corporations that created this problem. There is nothing but opportunity for us.
Can you share a heartwarming or unexpected anecdote from your experiences that captures the joy and humor amidst the challenges of ocean advocacy?
There are hundreds, but I can choose one! I shared before that a climate policy I worked on died one step before passing in 2023, and it was devastating. Part of my role in the coalition was to engage young people in the political process, teach them how bills pass into law, and empower them to testify. That group of young people stole the show at every hearing we were at. Elected officials listened to them closely, and each testimony they gained more and more confidence in their message. When the bill died, I had to share the news with the youth coalition, and I was terrified. I was met with the messages I didn’t know I needed to hear. One individual told me he left marine biology for policy because he didn’t think he could build a career, but this initiative taught him that both can work together and he can protect the ocean through policy. Another one told me they now have the toolkit to testify on bills for the rest of their lives. It really reminded me that progress looks different for everyone, and big solutions are often made up of many small steps forward.
This is part of a series where Green & Beyond Mag explores the stories and takes a peek at the lifestyles of incredible people like green entrepreneurs, innovators, climate advocates, activists, community leaders, and content creators, all around the world, who love the planet and are working tirelessly to make the world a better place.
content
Subscribe to our newsletter,
join our community!
Sign up to our mailing list to receive the latest news and updates from our team. We don't spam, promise!
