By Avery Connett ‘23
The warm weather of Texas had lulled me into complacency. Carefree in my summer dresses, I could ignore a growing feeling of discomfort. Then, shocked back into the frigid South Hadley air riding my bike from a meeting, the tears froze to my cheeks. Something in me had broken. Looking back, it had been slowly building for months.
The discomfort had moved from my body to my mind as I settled back on campus after the break. It struck me full-on late one night, causing what I could only describe as an existential crisis. I was free-falling and couldn’t understand the next morning how people could laugh with friends, discuss their majors or future plans when there was a crisis on our hands. In an attempt to calm my buzzing thoughts I asked my advisor, who holds a credible opinion on the topic, for his projections about climate change and the future of subsequent generations. As I expected, the answer was not comforting. In the conversation I looked around for the hope many people my age search for from adult figures, but instead, I found blunt despair. My advisor by no means had intended to mislead me with optimism, or despondency, yet I felt like I’d been brought face to face with the death of purpose, hope and the human spirit.
Time was up.
So was my meeting, which ended with polite chatter about my classes, a nicety that seemed a mocking metaphor for the casual repudiation of the issue that rests on the trajectory of our thoughtless daily routines.
And who am I? I’m a nineteen-year-old college freshman from a small, organic community farm in Texas. I’m someone who cares deeply about our beautiful, resilient planet. I’m not a leader but my role is just as important as those in political offices or the next person on the street. I’ve realized there is no time for insecurity, caring what others think or overthinking involvement. There is only time for action. Moving forward.
Do you ever feel panicked, overwhelmed or defeated about climate news? If so, you’re not alone. I was surprised to find my experience had been named by the American Psychological Association since 2017. Many articles about Climate Despair or Eco-Anxiety have been cropping up this year, from Vice to therapy news outlets. Some colleges are even teaching classes on the subject. Learning to address our emotions is becoming as pressing as the issue. An article from ideasroom interviewing a sociologist at Victoria University of Wellington pointed out that there exists a “double reality where we’re terrified about what’s going to happen at the same time as ignoring the problem completely.”
How can we bridge this duality? How do we make social change and activism more than just a side-hobby or a political concept? I was only able to restore the meaning back to my “normal” aspirations,like classes and career, after re-appreciating them in the context of the fight for my planet and future. I predict more and more we will be forced to do the same recontextualizing with all aspects of normalcy in our lives.
How do we combat debilitating mental states at the most critical time for action when on top of political gridlock, very little is being done? Addressing climate change has presented a broad spectrum of views ranging from imminent apocalypse to optimistic denial. Where is there room for hope? The mistake I made with my advisor was not distinguishing between hope and optimism. He had tried to explain that there was no basis for an optimistic outlook on our future, but I wanted to know the arguments for hope — something I learned only I could provide after our meeting.
However intense and overpowering the emotional process of accepting the future is, I believe it’s not the whole story. It’s the prelude to a “productive discomfort” and action state, like that kind of flow you feel when you’re finally working last-minute on that paper that’s due at midnight. We must appreciate the window for successful action before we lose it.
I believe the key to addressing Climate Change is staying engaged and working with uncertainty, not against it. As college students, our main resources include our political voices, studies, and actions. We are right where we need to be if we are to enact change in the world.
In my weekly column, I will explore opportunities for all of us, including: zero-waste movement, diet changes, attending topical classes, finding internships, joining the Extinction rebellion and holding strikes. I will also examine what’s no longer working from homes to the government; where do we need eyes and creative solutions? We will win this battle not with more facts or scared people, but inspiring and promising acts of cooperation and unique innovations. We must become intentional about our future more than ever, from the leaders we choose our products.
It’s painfully clear. Hope will only be sown from our own actions. It lies dormant in the sliver of time and uncertainty in our scientists’ predictions. We must see the vast opportunity that lies within humanity’s greatest challenge. There is a fight with or without those who are ready, and it’s the only sustainable antidote to eco-despair. I have decided to be my own inspiration. To source my own hope and my own fight of that which to rely on.
It is worth it to me to build the future, even if I was alone. The good thing is I’m not.