Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing. 


The surge of young activists driving the climate movement in the last few years gives me wild hope in the resistance. It is so difficult to be young—to shoulder so much fear about the future—and still find ways to work toward the world we want. I am emboldened by the folks rallying on the frontlines of change and am sad too, for the kind of losses we have to hold in our hearts when we are trying to figure out where we want to live and what we want to do and who we will love. The tender tribulations of being a twenty something are playing out in a present rife with chemical warfare and desertification. Sometimes I desperately wish I could go home to some haven where winter is cold and trees grow old because the world we are growing into is already so very different than the world I grew up in and that scares me. 

So I am hopeful and I am in love and I am full of courage and I am also sad and afraid and anxious. Somedays I feel like a warrior, like there is so much creative energy ricocheting through the chambers of my heart and so many ways to pour it out. And other days, I feel like I am living in internal drought. 

But to me, that is what makes working in the climate movement as an environmental artist essential. Through my work in climate activism, I have connected to a network of dreamers and schemers who are willing to wholeheartedly embody joy and sorrow and determination through their hard work. We are building our own abundant worlds bit by bit, finding ways to resist the colonization of indigenous lands and regenerate the earth that feeds us, finding ways to love when love feels scarce and to fight when a sense of resiliency is difficult to grasp and to change what we can so long as we can.

This work is hard. There are some days when the reality feels bleak and I want to curl up. But then I remember that hope exists in that sweet sliver between the present and the future; and that in this moment I am held; and that I want every sweet creature on this earth to inherit a world worth living in. So I love and I hope and I work. And when I'm sad and afraid and anxious, I sink into the loamy soil and remember another world is always possible, today and tomorrow and everyday after. 

Kate WeinerComment