climate activism

One year ago, I rather naively and nervously journeyed to London to participate in Extinction Rebellion’s first ‘International Rebellion’. I say naively because, at that stage in my activism journey, I had little to no knowledge of my rights to protest, the different laws I could potentially be breaking and the risks I was opening myself up to by partaking in an act of civil disobedience, to demand drastic climate action.

I want to preface this by saying I understand the flaws of the movement as a whole. In an ideal world, there would be no need for separate movements and organisations to focus on the climate crisis – we would work together, as a civilisation to mitigate the effects of an emergency that is very much still ongoing despite the current global pandemic that is upon us.

We would (and should) go to great lengths to raise the voices of those who have been paving the way since before climate change was ever something we had to consider.

I understand that the mostly positive experiences I have had over the past year, have come out of a place of privilege and out of the little risk to my safety, wellbeing and overall security. I will never beat around the bush that this type of activism can often cost a fair amount of money (whether it’s for covering accommodation, food, travel or other expenses), take a lot of time and have potential legal consequences.

Not everybody can afford to take two weeks off of work or travel the country frequently, no matter how much they understand and appreciate the severity of the issue.

Direct action is not the be-all and end-all of activism (believing this is a very ableist view on activism) nor is it always the best way to bring about change – it is simply one way and one way that has come to resonate and work for me on an individual basis. However, I will note that there are many ways you can support a movement like XR, without taking to the streets.

This has been a year of my personal rebellion. It’s been one of learning and growing and coming to understand what I value in a world which is constantly challenging my reasons for staying hopeful.

If anything, this isn’t going to be about ecological collapse, facing mass extinction or discussing the reasons for acting in the first place – this is going to be about community and how now, in a time of global uncertainty, I have never felt more sure that coming together and holding hands with each other (metaphorically, of course), is the most important thing we can do to challenge the systems that are failing us. In a sense, this is a journal entry.

On this day last year, I showed up and I knew nobody.

But what came out of that day was discovering that being a part of a community isn’t about knowing anybody; it’s about coming together for a common cause, a goal or a vested interest and holding each other up on the journey that you’re all on.

It’s about the small in-between moments that we’re currently having to replicate virtually – the brief check-ins, the tilt of the head before you step in and ask if somebody’s okay. All of the things that seem like common decency but are often left behind in the fast-paced world we’ve become so used to.

Obviously, this is coming from the perspective of someone living in a country where we’ve all become so wrapped up in capitalism’s individualism that these basic human interactions seem to have slipped away.

This reflection comes at a time which feels more poignant than ever because if it wasn’t for community, the lockdown that many of us in 2020 suddenly find ourselves in, would be an even harder struggle.

There would be no mutual aid groups, clapping on our doorsteps (no matter how politically divisive that may be), singing in the streets or motivational messages being chalked onto pavements.

That first day of my rebellion, which helped in tipping the agenda to a point in which the UK Parliament declared a climate emergency, was my first true taste of this.

There was a moment that may sound insignificant if you’ve been fortunate enough to find yourself among what feels like ‘your people’ before, which always comes to mind. I can’t quite remember if this was the Monday or the Friday in which I returned for a second day of action after not being able to sit still for the days in between but I’m not sure it matters.

I was sat in the middle of Oxford Circus as the sun began to set on an unusually warm (well – is it really unusual when 2019 was one of the hottest years on record?) April evening surrounded by unfamiliar faces when a selection of biscuits started to be passed around. (The biscuits aren’t an important part of this story – if anything, it just makes the story more entertaining to retell).

Maybe it was just something about the way the light was falling on the pink boat that sat in front of me, the sheer monumental feeling of being a part of what would likely become a piece of history or the beauty of something as simple as a biscuit to fuel me after a day of exhaustion – but I felt at peace.

I felt okay in all my fear and the few strands of hope I was clinging on to with my recent realisation that there is no going back from the impact that’s been made on our planet, our world and our futures.

No matter what changes we make, no matter how we start to adapt, we will, unfortunately, see the consequences of our actions (more on this here).

I felt comforted, supported and suddenly not so alone.

And I now know that I was there by that pink boat draped in sunlight with many people I would now call friends, without knowing it.

I now know that the person who spoke in the middle of Piccadilly Circus about losing their father and how it made fighting for climate justice all the more personal, as Talia.

I now know the person who boarded the same return coach home as me, with the blue hair and the Irish accent, as Jess.

I now know the name of the person wearing the XR-themed jewellery who also boarded that very same coach and sat in the seat behind me. A few months later, I would find myself holding their hands with my eyes filled with tears, as they were lifted into a police van for continuing to take a stand.

I can now recognise faces in crowds and the people behind the instruments that echo through the streets when we come together as a band made up of strangers.

I remember those I’ve shared vulnerable moments with, and I’ve reconnected with them on the basis that we know we can find ourselves in a safe space when we see each other again.

I’ve had low moments and phone calls to get me through that I never would have received otherwise. I’ve had emails filled with wisdom and messages full of love.

Even when I’ve shown up alone, it’s never felt that way. It’s like one big interconnected family that was created out of something as necessary as wanting to protect life.

I’ve felt seen and heard. I’ve felt accepted without judgement because this cause doesn’t depend on who you are. It just needs you to show up in all your true colours; with tears and grief and hope and all.

Imagining a new world isn’t easy for me. There are too many obstacles in the way, too many reasons to look away and crumble at reality. But I now know that a new world relies on us. It relies on us being an us. It relies on a collective. A we. A sense of togetherness and solidarity for those who aren’t within our reach.

The belief that nobody should have no-one to turn to.

It’s self-sufficient but only if the self means more than one. It’s a world where we rely on each other because we know that there is nothing stronger. I see hope in each other more than anything else because there is never-ending proof that we work.

So, if anything, this is a thank you.

A thank you to every person that has welcomed and accepted me and not only understood but related to my fears. It’s a thank you to the shoulders I’ve cried on without barely having spoken a word.

A thank you for the joy and the laughter when there are so many reasons to stay in the darkness – because what’s the reason for fighting for life if we don’t celebrate the simple act of living?

In this past year, I’ve lived deeply but only because I’ve found people who have given me the space to do so.

For me, celebrating life despite all of the injustices and all of the battles we’ve yet to face is as good an act of rebellion as any other.

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This is the speech I wrote about feeling proud of youth activists for the November 1st 2019 climate strike in Gloucester, UK.

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As a quick introduction to who I am – I’m Tolly, I’m 19, I’m part of Extinction Rebellion and I’ve been on my environmentalist journey ever since I educated myself on the impacts of the fashion industry (the industry that I originally wanted to break into) several years ago.

The last time I wrote a speech for an action similar to this was back in July of this year. I wanted it to be a way of appreciating the greatness that has come out of this movement, like the community I have found in it.

I suppose I could do that again; I could praise us all for being here and I could thank you. However, since then, I have come to this understanding that we really shouldn’t have to be here and that we shouldn’t be being thanked or being admired for being such inspirational young people.

In that speech, amongst the heartfelt admittance of love for everyone who was stood alongside me, I also said that we shouldn’t have to be here. And it’s true; we shouldn’t have to be.

Any adult with any small sense of power and opportunity to instigate change should not be looking at us in awe. I don’t say this to the parents who are just struggling to get by and to put food on their children’s plate. I don’t say this to the families in the Global South who have had next to no part in the harm that has been done.

I say this to the leaders; to the politicians; and to the CEOs.

You should be looking at us and feeling a sense of shame; not a sense of pride.

Because this is nothing new. For example, Exxon; an oil and gas company and one of the highest greenhouse gas emitters in the world, is in court at the moment in New York, as they are being trialled for not telling the truth about the climate crisis to their investors – yet back in 1982, scientists working with Exxon accurately predicted what would happen with carbon emissions and global warming. Back in 1982.

I certainly wasn’t born. My 31-year-old sister wasn’t born and my parents were only in their twenties. Then in 1991, oil and gas company Shell, released a public information film acknowledging that there is a – “Possibility of change faster than at any time since the end of the ice age… too fast for life to adapt without severe dislocation”.

There’s even a New Zealand newspaper clipping from 1912 that suggested that burning coal may have a considerable effect on the earth in a few centuries. This is nothing new for anyone, so, why are we, the children of that generation being called heroes?

“The kids are going to save us! We’ll be fine! The next generation gives me so much hope!”

I don’t want to stand up here and bring you a sense of hope. We are not here because we want to be, we are here because you have not listened. You did not listen back in 1912, in 1982 or even in 1991 and despite the millions of people who have come out and campaigned over the past year, you are not listening now.

This is also not new for the 164 activists who died in 2018 alone, for defending their land and their right to a prosperous and healthy future, many of whom were from indigenous communities. If anything, those are the people we should be listening to.

We are so lucky and I think that’s part of the reason why we are not being listened to, here at home in the UK. A lot of us are going to be okay, for the meantime, especially those in privileged, high-up places. They don’t have the fear that so many other people have to live with, every single day.

But the climate crisis doesn’t have borders. It’s not just about here in Gloucestershire; it’s not just about here in England or in the UK. That’s what makes the climate crisis an immigration crisis, too. According to the International Organisation for Migration, 1 in 30 people in the world could be displaced due to climate impacts by 2050.

The biggest lie you can tell is that the climate crisis has borders and that for as long as other countries are so-say doing worse than us, we can rest easy. We simply cannot.

When somebody tells me that I should go and protest in another country, say India for example, not only can I tell them that actually, that’s not necessary because over 27 Indian cities took part in the September climate strikes and that Extinction Rebellion India has a website I can link them to – I can also tell them, that actually, we’re not doing better.

In the EU, the UK currently gives more subsidies to fossil fuels than any other country. Let’s also not forget the number of products that we import from all over the world, either. I once raised this point with an MP who ended up laughing in my face despite the fact I’d been crying moments prior, due to the inescapable fear that my future is being threatened.

Linking this back into how I found myself in this position; not only do we subsidise fossil fuels more than any other country in the EU, we also buy more clothes per person.

And where are those clothes manufactured? A lot of the time; places such as India. But I’ll leave that one for the local activists. It’s not a laughing matter but I joke, obviously. This is all our responsibility, especially the responsibility of those who sit and praise us without actually taking any action.

I don’t know about you, but I am not here because I want to be. I’m here because I don’t want to look back and say that I did nothing. And neither should the people who are supposedly here to protect us.

We want to inspire people to act, yes, but we are not here to be inspirational. We are here because what other choice do we have? Don’t just look at us as shiny, bright faces with funny placards; look at us as people who have hopes and dreams that we’re beginning to let go of. Look at us as people who know that others are suffering and that right now, we’re all just playing one big waiting game.

If you are really inspired – you will act now.

And if you are able to, you will also vote for the right people on December 12^th.

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Climate and environmental activism isn’t new but its most certainly becoming a more common title that people are willing to label themselves as. The climate and ecological emergency is something that threatens all life on earth, so, it’s no surprise that over 7 million people have taken to striking and that over 31,000 people have expressed their interest in participating in Extinction Rebellion UK’s upcoming actions…

However, I recently asked my Instagram followers what stops them from participating in direct climate activism (like the recent Global Climate Strike) and the responses made it incredibly clear why we need to be listening to the masses in order to make movements more accessible for all.

Answers included mental health; physical disabilities; chronic pain; lack of time due to lifestyle and education; anxiety and panic disorders; caring for children and even living in countries which don’t allow for freedom of speech – there are a myriad of reasons why many people can’t take to physical forms of activism (such as a swarming, blocking roads and taking part in strikes and marches).

It wouldn’t be right for me to offer solutions to these very specific and individual cases which often don’t have quick fixes, however, I do believe I can help break down the idea that direct climate activism (or any direct activism, really) can only be supported in those sometimes physically draining and emotionally-tolling activities.

Climate activism (by the likes of Extinction Rebellion – which the majority of my direct activism experience comes from) involves so many roles behind-the-scenes that can be just as vital as those willing to break laws or put themselves up for arrest. Using my own personal experience, I’ve created this basic list which covers some of the ways that I have indirectly supported climate activists and how you can, too…

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~ ARRESTEE SUPPORT ~

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I have attended court hearings and final verdict hearings in support of local rebels after they have been arrested on actions. This has involved attending court from a few hours to a full day, listening to the proceedings and providing emotional and physical support when needed. For example; giving hugs, doing coffee runs or making sure that people are in the right place at the right time.

How to do it?

Connect with your local activist groups or have an Ecosia (web browser) search for upcoming court dates related to recent actions. Even if you don’t know the individuals, court cases are open to public viewing which means you can come and show that they have people on their side. If you’re part of Extinction Rebellion, you can also put yourself up for an official Arrestee Support role in your local group.

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~ ART & DESIGN ~

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I’ve created graphics and flyer designs for local actions, in order to support the promotion of actions (even if I haven’t been part of them in a direct way). For example, I created the map used during Extinction Rebellion Bristol’s Summer Uprising, which displayed things like accessible toilets, the kitchen and camping site. I’ve also painted and designed banners for ‘swarming’ (blocking roads) which have been used on actions and become part of my local group’s identity – using upcycled materials, of course.

How to do it?

If you have the tools – you are free to create whatever you think can aid a movement. For Extinction Rebellion, there is a full guide to the ART that is used across the Rebellion; it’s important to stick to the guides as it keeps things as impactful as possible.

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~ SOCIAL MEDIA ~

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On a similar vein, a lot of the work I do is on social media. I’ve designed the official GIF stickers for Extinction Rebellion; once again, designed graphics for my local groups and upcoming events and have promoted actions in order to reach wider audiences who might be interested in supporting the movement and telling the truth about the climate emergency.

How to do it?

Anyone can support climate activism by using social media. Share tweets from activists (making sure to include minorities or groups who don’t always get the spotlight) or promote upcoming actions. Follow activist groups in your area, even if you’re unable to support in person. With activist groups, typically, this kind of role can be shared so that no one person is solely relied upon, meaning this is a really great role if you have limited time on your hands but you still want to play your part.

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~ OUTREACH ~

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Supporting direct-action doesn’t always mean taking to the streets or participating in a march or strike; it can also mean doing outreach to find those who are willing to take to the streets, by spending a weekend or a few hours doing things such as leafleting or stall-running. Locally, I’ve worked on stalls which have combined leafleting and activities such as fabric printing (because who doesn’t want activist slogans all over their clothes?). If you’re able to bake – vegan treats like flapjacks and cookies go down a treat and are a great way of raising donations.

How to do it?

Once again, it’s important to connect with a local activist group to see how and when they need your help. If you want to help out with something as simple as baking then it may just be a case of knowing the dates for upcoming events and having a place to drop them off.

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~ WELLBEING ~

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Speaking of flapjacks… I’ve baked a whole load for actions because activists need food to keep them going! My vegan flapjack recipe (well, this vegan flapjack recipe) is now infamous to my local XR group and works as a great energy boost and stomach filler. If any restaurant owners or chefs are reading – sometimes restaurants even provide free meals for hundreds of people on site (like this incredible vegan curry pictured above). Wellbeing isn’t just providing food though; it can mean emotional support and offering a shoulder to cry on or it can mean donating woolly hats or sunglasses for actions (depending on the season, of course).

How to do it?

Once again, get in touch with your local activist group to see what they’re in need of. If you can’t (or don’t want to) offer emotional support then ask what physical items they’re in need of. Have some spare yoga mats lying about or some reusable water bottles that you’ve collected too many of? Activists taking part in non-violent direction action can always do with things like these.

For the upcoming International Rebellion in London (starting 7th October 2019), October Sustenance are looking for support both in the kitchen and in receiving donations.

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~ FINANCES ~

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I’ve given to legal crowdfunds for activists who have been arrested in my area and I’ve helped raise donations by manning those outreach stalls and baking those all-important vegan flapjacks. Donations are highly appreciated, especially for legal matters because stepping up to fight for climate justice shouldn’t cost as much as it does for those who are able to put themselves into an arrestable position.

How to do it?

Donate to an environmental organisation or a local activist group nearby to you or find a relevant crowdfund which is in need of support. Crowdjustice is a great place to start.

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Have more questions about how you can support climate activism? Ask away in the comments!