On Thursday, November 21st, 2024, I attended, in my opinion, the most powerful and emotionally stirring event of Conference of the Parties-29 (COP-29) in Baku, Azerbaijan: the People’s Plenary, or the People’s COP.
Before I can discuss what I saw at this People’s Plenary, I think it is important that I address the purpose of the event. The People’s Plenary is a space where Indigenous Peoples, youth groups and delegations, including YOUNGO, women, farmers, environmental NGOs, and other activists gather together to voice their frustrations with the COP processes, but also their hope for what they believe the future can look like if large actions are taken to advance climate justice. This year, these groups called for an increase in climate finance, because COP-29 was billed as “The Finance COP”.
Given that COP was hosted in Baku, the capital of Azerbaijan, it was understood before COP began that protests and activist activity would be limited, given the repressive nature of the Azerbaijani government. I did see activists outside the Side Event rooms, but they had strict guidelines to follow, and had to conclude their presentations and clear the hall after their time-slot ended. The People’s Plenary is a forum where activists’ work is accepted and can be celebrated, and criticism can be voiced safely and heard by empathetic peers.
This event, while listed on the official UNFCCC schedule of COP, is scarcely attended by negotiators. In fact, when queueing to enter the Caspian Plenary Room, where the event was being held, those with yellow observer-designated badges had priority. This is not the case for most rooms where negotiations are held. The room filled up very quickly, with observers and side-event speakers from all over the world and from many different walks of life when the security guards finally allowed access.
On that particular day at COP-29, the official theme of the day was, “Indigenous Peoples, Gender Equality, Nature & Biodiversity, & Oceans & Coastal Zones”. However, the theme of the People’s Plenary was, “Pay Up, Stand Up: Finance Climate Action, Not Genocide”. This title accurately expressed the frustrations of the many speakers and the groups they represented, especially because many hail from the Global South, where communities disproportionately face the effects of a climate catastrophe that they did not contribute to nearly as much as corporations and governments in the Global North.
The first speakers, introduced by the Chair of the Plenary, spoke on behalf of Palestine, Lebanon, and South Sudan. All women, they expressed their anguish about the suffering their people have faced. They highlighted the compounding negative effects of climate change that threaten the lives of people whose lives are already endangered, and how war and devastation of cities likewise contribute to climate change and pollution. Each speaker conveyed her hurt and anger that the name of her respective homeland would not and could not be uttered in negotiations.
This resonated with me deeply, as an Armenian-American woman. My grandfather’s family fled Armenian when my grandfather, John Kerimian, and his twin brother, Ray Kerimian, were infants, and his sister, Jacqueline Kerimian, was a young teenager. Currently, there are more Armenians living in diaspora than in Armenia. Recently, millions of indigenous Armenians living in Artsakh, or Nagorno Karabakh, were forced to leave their homeland when Azerbaijan asserted that the territory belonged to them and occupied the region. In the halls of the Conference of the Parties-29, I did not hear anyone mention Armenia either.
The introduction of the People’s Plenary provoked deep emotions within me. As I wiped away tears, I made eye contact with the women around me, and felt a sense of solidarity and understanding pass between us. The mood of the rest of the Plenary, though, was more fiery, with attendees calling for “Trillions, Not Billions”, referring to the New Collective Quantified Goal (NCQG). The NCQG is a target established in the Paris Agreement in 2015, which was formerly 100 billion USD. The purpose of the NCQG is to raise climate finance for developing countries, which can help these nations fund mitigation efforts, adapt to climate change, and recover when natural disasters destroy industries and displace people.
One of the speakers that I found very riveting, was an activist fighting in the larger Global Climate Justice Movement. He spoke passionately and emphasized that the struggle for climate justice is inextricably linked to the global push to end genocides and wars. This intersectionality was not unknown to me, but hearing it stressed at a prestigious conference was empowering. Sitting in that vast room, I thought of the work of my peers and my own environmental justice work, and felt a wave of resolve to continue advocating for and standing with people being unfairly harmed by climate change pass through me.
At the end of the Plenary, citizens of the Global North were called to stand and recite a pledge to support the Global South and push for justice wherever and whenever, no matter what. Now COP has ended, and the NCQG was actually set at 300 billion USD, when nations from the Global South stated that 1.3 trillion would be needed to combat climate change. While it may seem like this would be devastating to the attendees of the People’s Plenary, I suspect they will maintain their hope, passion, and action, and continue to push for climate action.
Overall, I am grateful that I was able to attend COP-29, and attend the People’s Plenary. It will be a memory I cherish for a long time, especially as I plan to attend law school, and persist in my activism.
by Eder Ruiz Sanchez ’25, Sociology & Anthropology and Spanish
Upon our arrival to Baku for COP 29, it was clear the city was prepared to welcome over 50,000 attendees. The airport displayed banners, posters, and staff in COP-themed uniforms. Electric powered shuttles and newly introduced electric taxis also bore COP 29 labels, cementing Azerbaijan’s role as the global focus for climate discussions. However, soon after leaving the airport glamor, I saw an oil drill hidden behind some trees. Then, I saw another one in the center of a neighborhood. And several others in neighborhoods and on the side of the roads. This situation undeniably highlighted Azerbaijan’s status as a petrostate hosting a climate conference.
This year’s COP follows COP 28, held in the UAE, where a spectacle of flashy tech was coupled with a major commitment to the “beginning of the end” of fossil fuels. At the same time, the UAE stands as a major oil producer and human rights abuser, undermining not only its credibility as a host but the credibility of COP as a whole. Notably, 2023 was the hottest year on record and 2024 is on track to top that record. A year later and nearly a decade after the Paris Agreement, fossil fuel emissions are projected to reach new record highs. Climate skeptics, like Javier Milei in Argentina and Donald Trump in the U.S., have risen to power, threatening the global climate commitments made thus far. Additionally, reports came out revealing that the COP 29 CEO, Elnur Soltanov, also a board member of SOCAR (Azerbaijan’s state oil company), reportedly used the event to secure fossil fuel deals. In the lead up to COP 29, many Azeri climate activists, economists, and political opponents were arrested.
After studying the UNFCCC frameworks earlier this semester, I felt prepared to engage with the COP processes. However, an increasing amount of information revealed the façade and greenwashing that COP enables for countries like Azerbaijan to do. My skepticism, however, wasn’t directed at the will of the people participating in COP but at the frameworks that allow petrostates and human rights violators to host such events, as well as allow an increasing number of fossil fuel lobbyists into the venue.
Despite its flaws, COP remains a vital space where hundreds of environmental defenders and climate justice activists—particularly those from the Global South and most effected by climate disasters—come together. They recognize the imperfections of host countries, COP frameworks, and innate slowness, but also view COP as an opportunity to organize, build capacity and solidarities, and use the global spotlight to draw attention to their realities. Entering COP, I experienced a mix of emotions, balancing these contradictions with a strange sense of anticipation.
At the opening ceremony, COP 29 President Mukhtar Babayev urged for enhanced ambition and action for climate finance, the mobilization of financial sources for developing countries all ranging from public to private sector contributions towards a New Collective Quantified Goal (NCQG). While the previous NCQG was $100 billion (set in 2009), the acceleration of climate change disasters on developing countries has experts and activists’ expectations of the NCQG being in the trillions. Babayev also acknowledged that current policies are leading us to 3ºC warming, if not more. Despite this, the adoption of the agenda was significantly delayed to later in the evening, stalling negotiations and wasting valuable time.
Day 2 and 3 featured the World Leaders Summit. Azerbaijani President Ilham Aliyev’s opening speech further underscored major contradictions. Criticizing “Western political hypocrisy” over Europe’s increased reliance on Azerbaijani oil and gas since the start of the Russian-Ukraine war, Aliyev doubled down on framing natural resources as god’s divine gifts (“gifts from God”), defending fossil fuel extraction, saying “we must also be realistic.” His tone also began to resemble that of authoritarian global leaders calling out “fake media” and took on a dissenting stance against those boycotting this year’s COP. I was even more disturbed when suddenly the plenary and overflow rooms broke out with applause following this statement.
UN Secretary-General António Guterres followed and captured the urgency, warning, “The clock is ticking. We are in the final countdown to limit global temperature rise to 1.5ºC.” Acknowledging the increasing global wealth inequality and it’s connections to climate change, Guterres said:
“This is a story of avoidable injustice. The rich cause the problem, the poor pay the highest price. Oxfam finds the richest billionaires emit more carbon in an hour and a half than the average person does in a lifetime.”
Climate change is inherently tied to the wealth inequality of capitalism. Those in the Global South, as well as individuals of lower socioeconomic status in the Global North, disproportionately bear the consequences and lack the finances to rebuild and invest in adaptation efforts. In other words, climate change doesn’t affect everyone equally—we are not all on the same boat. Throughout the evolution of the UNFCCC, the discourse has focused on the potential threats posed by climate change. However, for many marginalized communities, these threats are not abstract and have been manifesting itself as daily realities of violence and the loss of life and alternative worlds.
Given that COP29 is the the “Finance COP,” it is crucial to connect the concentration of wealth among billionaires to climate change. Wealth is heavily concentrated in the hands of a few. The link between climate justice and economic justice is clearer than ever. Addressing climate change requires confronting the systemic mechanisms that allow the wealthy few to amass emissions-intensive wealth at the expense of the many who endure the consequences. This injustice is a form of violence on the behalf of the wealthy few (and the systems that enable this situation to occur) that views the rest, particularly the Global South, as disposable.
My goal throughout week 1 was to attend 2-3 negotiations on adaptation per day. I often felt confused, unsure on whether I was misunderstanding the process or if there was a lack of progress. Daily reports, along with the frustrated expressions on faces of negotiators and observers, confirmed my observations: there was a clear lack of action. At one point, I heard crickets, literally.
Regardless, it was valuable to witness firsthand the dynamics of negotiations. In the hallways, you could see negotiators huddled together like a sports team, strategizing their approaches. During one session, the African-Group called for a five-minute break to regroup, and suddenly, around 50 people gathered in the corner intensely discussing how to proceed.
At the same time, it was clear not all negotiators were equally active. In an event at the Ocean Pavilion titled “Ethical Horizons: Navigating Climate Intervention and Solutions” with Axel Michaelowa, Margaret Leinen, and Alia Hassan, they highlighted the capacity gaps in the Global South. Although the conversation was focused on technology, Hassan explained how the gaps in technology are also mirrored at COP in how some delegations are stretched thin, running between sessions due to their small size and others simply lack the capacity to defend their countries’ positions effectively. Despite being agreed upon, many agreements at COP result in developing countries compromising to countries with more power who do not have the same urgency as those already being affected by climate change. The adaptation negotiations I attended were largely dominated by the US, Australia, and African Group, while many remained silent.
Seeking further meaningful engagement, I turned to other pavilions, where I found the Indigenous Peoples Pavilion. With four booths offering live interpretation ranging from Indigenous languages to Portuguese, the small pavilion space consisted of a vibrant energy of love and solidarity, despite being at the forefront of climate change disasters.
Here, panelists highlighted inequities in COP, where the Global North enjoys larger, better-equipped rooms, while marginalized groups fight for inclusion. However, they made it clear that being present is not enough but what matters is the capacity to advocate effectively. Namely, language barriers further exacerbate inequities, as English dominates and UNFCCC jargon often excludes those most impacted by climate change.
An event titled “Decoding UNFCCC Language” that I attended, provided a collaborative space to address these issues while fostering connections across linguistic and cultural differences. Through case studies and group discussions, participants—including activists, scientists, and lawyers—demystified technical terms. Facilitators encouraged participants to pay close attention to the verbs and diction being used in the writing of texts at negotiations, particularly texts that assert some sort of obligation, as the use of certain words can weaken agreements. The event ended with a chanting of “intergenerational climate justice” in every person’s native language.
One of the most memorable events I attended was on Indigenous perspectives on carbon markets titled, “Carbon trading for whose benefit.” At the event, Ghazali Ohorella, the lead Indigenous Peoples Caucus negotiator for Article 6, reiterated the concerns and objection of carbon markets. Article 6 of the Paris Agreement establishes a market solution to address climate change through the buying and selling of mitigation outcomes. Indigenous Peoples and other climate activists and lawyers argue that this market mechanism allows polluters to buy offsets rather than truly mitigate their emissions. Ohorella stands for the Caucus’s positions but also recognized the clear dismissal of Indigenous voices, saying that another one of their core efforts is ensuring the “free, prior, and informed consent” from the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples is upheld. Due to the finance nature of this year’s COP, Article 6 is a major focus and its quick adoption has brought up several concerns on its integrity.
Ohorella continued to mention how although there is a rightful hesitancy among Indigenous Peoples on engagement with carbon markets, learning about it is essential as it can be leveraged as a tool for sovereignty. He referenced the ways in which the Yurok Tribe used California’s carbon offsets program to buy their land back.
At the pavilion, I had a conversation with Tom Goldtooth, the executive director of the Indigenous Environmental Network. He’s attended all COPs, except for the ones he’s been banned at due to his organizing efforts and criticism of the UNFCCC and carbon trading. He pointed out at how activists like him are censored while the number of fossil fuel lobbyists grow every year. In the UNFCCC, every comma, letter, and space carries significant weight. Goldtooth highlighted how Indigenous Peoples organized to ensure the inclusion of the plural “s” in “Indigenous Peoples” as a deliberate effort to remind negotiators, who too often overlook their voices, that they stand as a collective.
At a press conference with Earthworks, Indigenous Peoples from different social cultural regions from the Amazon to the Artic gathered to present principles and protocols for a true just transition. Many recounted the ways in which “Just Transition” projects essentially became landgrabs by corporations backed by the state and military. “All these big geopolitical power wars between China and the US and Mexico, are felt back home by Indigenous Peoples,” said Nicole Yanes in reference to the Plan de Sonora. She also noted that at the summit to prepare the principles and protocols, many Indigenous Peoples found similarities and in fact are facing the same companies, tactics, and strategies that violate their rights. Again, they reiterated the importance of the “free, prior, and informed consent” of Indigenous Peoples as being core to having a Just Transition. In other words, their rights are not optional and lives are not disposable. Janene Yazzie, ended the press conference, calling not for a just transition, but a just transformation.
I also attended a discussion on the criminalization of Indigenous Peoples and Local Communities. The speakers presented a map highlighting where earth defenders are killed, with Latin America being the deadliest. Colombia and Brazil were the highest, but the Congo and Philippines were also amongst the top.
Juan Carlos Jintiach, a shuar leader from the Ecuadorian Amazon and Nobel Peace Prize nominee, stated, “We are threats, threats to the global system, and that’s why we’re being killed.” Other speakers also drew connections between state and corporate violence, especially in the context of mineral extraction for the “just transition.” Another speaker emphasized: “We are not against the just transition, as some portray us. What we demand is self-determination; free, prior, and informed consent; and the dignity of Indigenous Peoples to be respected.
As I was heading out for the day, I noticed a large crowd gathered at the Global Center on Adaptation pavilion. I decided to stop and see what was happening not realizing that the people were there for the catered reception. While four women were being honored for their locally led adaptation efforts, the vast majority of people in the crowd were on their phones waiting for the reception to follow. Among one of the speakers was Lastiana Yuliandari, the founder of Aliet Green, a women-owned enterprise based in Yogyakarta, Indonesia focused on empowering local farmers through regenerative organic agriculture and the promotion of fair trade practices. I was captivated by her work and spoke to her following the event.
She shared her story, explaining how following her undergraduate studies — “just like you right-now,” she said — she initially worked for NGOs, a path she was encouraged to follow. However, she grew frustrated with the way these organizations would move from one project to another without any meaningful sustainable work being implemented, often being led by outsiders to the communities. Instead of continuing, she found her own path, returned to her community, and empowered women, who do the brunt of the farming labor in her hometown.
Activists, from lawyers to youth, continued to protest at this year’s COP, representing voices from across the globe. While it was inspiring to witness, I noticed how thousands of people simply walked by the protests without a glance and even scolded demonstrators with an unwillingness to listen. At finance and investment-focused events I attended, speakers often emphasized the need of including voices of the Global South, farmers, and Indigenous Peoples so they’re “not just the ones protesting.” I found this contradictory, as many of the protestors were the same people leading critical discussions in panels and engaging directly with stakeholders.
Ojibwe Elder Great Grandmother Mary Lyons, for example, actively participated in protests and also moderated a session with high-level officials like Senior Advisor to the President John Podesta and Acting Deputy Administrator of the EPA Jane Nishida. Similarly, members of the Palestinian youth delegation, who I saw speak at multiple panels and negotiations, also met with Antonio Guterres and the Green Climate Fund. Other activists also made a heavy presence in negotiation rooms as observers, diligently taking notes. The voices of the Global South, farmers, and Indigenous Peoples are here and have been here making themselves heard through negotiations, high-profile panels, and protests.
It seemed like these protests were dismissed for their disruptions rather than being understood for their intent—to challenge the norms that have driven record fossil fuel emissions, granted lobbyists disproportionate influence, caused record-breaking temperatures, and perpetuated human rights abuses. Disruption of the status quo that the UNFCCC and COP has upheld is the intention.
This brought me back to something else that Tom Goldtooth shared at a panel: “They will divide us [(Indigenous Peoples and the Global South)]—by bringing the ‘good Indian’ to the table, rather than those who will demand the systemic changes and serious conversations we truly need.”
The protestor’s demands were clear: guaranteeing public finance, reducing the private sector’s dominance; stopping genocide and ecocide; ensuring free, prior, and informed consent; and securing $5 trillion for the NCQG.
As Guterres said, “Time is not one our side,” and the lack of action I witnessed during week one was deeply concerning. However, there is so much happening on the ground, led by frontline communities. COP29, just like all past and future COPs, cannot afford to be a failure. The growing number of officials, such as Swat alumnae, fellow Soc/Anth major, and former UNFCCC Executive Secretary Christiana Figueres—chief negotiator of the Paris Agreement—critiquing COP for enabling human rights abusers and petrostates is a hopeful sign. It shows that people are noticing the contradictions and flaws of the systems they themselves are part of.
While Indigenous Peoples, the Global South, and other vulnerable communities have long understood these issues, more people are finally waking up. The urgency for ambition and meaningful action has never been greater.
Let me start off by following up on a few of the things I was looking for in my last blog post:
Yes, I did find a handful of other peers from Myanmar.
Yes, I did find a better understanding of why it matters that I attended this conference.
The two are closely tied. After panels, there’s often space made for the audience to pose questions to the panelists or contribute comments based on the topics raised. Through these opportunities, I spoke about issues concerning Myanmar and it’s people, both within the country and outside of it. It was a chance to bring to light that even if we aren’t being brought to the table, our voices should still be heard. I’m reminded of the slogan that across the Pakistan Pavilion.
The slogan, “What goes on in Pakistan won’t stay in Pakistan”.
The mentality by those in positions of power that the issues they’ve caused within the sacrifice zones, ones they benefit from, won’t have any negative repercussions disregards the ways we are inextricably linked. The climate catastrophes in the Global South and reconstructions of the Global South won’t stay there either. As to the campaign led by the Climate Action Network International (CAN-I) on Friday: The Flood Is Coming, and that means to everywhere.
Similar to the pavilions themselves, sharing my voice publicly at the conference drew others toward me. At first, those people included high schoolers to professionals interested in what I was sharing about heritage, (climate) refugees, and food systems. Until finally, after one event, I met several friends from Myanmar at once working on issues from indigenous advocacy to climate finance. I was overjoyed, even while we had to jump between English and Burmese to keep up the conversation, to meet others also conscious of how often topics around climate change are quick to brush over the needs of people in Myanmar. It gave me clarity that the direction I have been heading in hasn’t been for nothing after all.
Having lunch with my new friends from Point Myanmar, an advocacy group for indigenous peoples in Myanmar. I had the chance to have some homemade lahpet thoke!
It also became clear to me how my platform can be used to share information that those who remain in the country may not be able to speak up about without risking their livelihoods. This was a harder thing to face, both that as diaspora I had the power to address a particular leverage point at the seams of systems of oppression, and that it might mean all the longer that I am unable to go back.
I think back to how I felt when I first learned the term transgender. Joy: the past fourteen years of my life finally made sense. Fear: the rest of my life will be spent facing discrimination.
Joy: I have a whole community and history of trans folx to stand alongside.
It may be a long time till I return to Myanmar… but as I eat lunch alongside the Asian Pacific Islander Caucus, where uncles and aunties have brought back food they cooked back in the places they’re staying, I know that home is here too.
A mix of goodies including: Laphet Thoke from Myanmar, a “Filipino dish made with Malaysian ingredients that tastes Nepali”, and both white and purple rice.
The networks that others had been connecting me to while I had been searching for others from Myanmar were not for nothing either. Through them, I found opportunities to participate in some of the demonstrations happening around the conference. In these messages, I learned that the venue had designated action zones and that these actions had received approval from the UNFCCC, though I’m not sure how many action zones there are, where they all are, or how many actions actually receive approval.
At the Asian Pacific Youth meet up!
The majority of demonstrations I saw took place at “Action Zone 1”, right by the entrance, though I saw demonstrations at two other locations. Primarily led by BIPOC folx, they were for the purposes of demanding loss and damage finance or climate reparations or for demanding an end to fossil fuels. The two I participated in were organized around youth and Asian identities.
Asian People’s Movement Loss and Damage Demonstration
As soon as we showed up, signs were handed out to us, so we could jump right in. One person would take point on the mic, explaining the purpose of this demonstration, sharing chants with the rest of the rally, and passing off the mic to others to share their stories. Stories that showcased how the people experiencing the very worst of climate change are the least responsible for it. Sometimes people would jump in to share chants from their own related movements, and I don’t just mean in terms of campaigns, but also cultural songs and dance of political resistance.
The People!
United!
Will Never Be Defeated!
During the demonstrations, I had men touch and move my body without my consent. There were men who would repeatedly move me out of the way to get a closer shot of someone else, or raise a camera directly into my face, or grab the sign I held beyond my reach, only to hand it back to me once their colleague was done taking a photo of them. Even while feeling empowered to be in solidarity, I marveled in the ways our actions seemed to be interpreted as a photo op.
Despite being surrounded by cameras, I heard some organizers reflect that they themselves were unable to take any photos because reporters and passersby were blocking organizers from getting to each other. They would just have to hope that they’d get photos later. As someone without mainstream social media personally, I still found pictures of me online.
No more blahblahblah
Loss and Damage Finance Now!
At one panel, an executive from a Big Tech company expressed:
Maybe it’s a good thing that the conference is taking place in countries like Egypt, and should continue to do so. It forces global leaders to see what it’s like on the ground and it will motivate them to actually take action.
Unfortunately, I cannot help but disagree. The Global North already takes their chances to travel to the Global South as an opportunity to engage in the tourism economy (or even the more philanthropic “voluntourism”) that perpetuates the commodification of cultures and is not doing anyone favors. As we see this conference stress test the capacity of Egypt to respond to the high expectations of leaders and delegates from the luxuries of “developed” countries in the Global North, I would be pained to see this repeated again and again across the Global South. Frankly, people from the Global South and reconstructions of the Global South in the Global North have been stating clearly for decades what the circumstances are like as a consequence of climate change. Instead of coming into our homes and gawking, listen to us. These people do not exist to perform as trauma porn just so that the Global North will take us seriously.
Pay Up!
Pay Up!
Pay Up for Loss and Damage!
It’s true that developed countries are the most responsible for climate change, that’s why they’ve been given the responsibility to take leadership in reducing their impact. However, so long as they remain accountable to themselves, the conversations will keep centering their issues foremost conference after conference. I believe that if instead, the so-called “developing” countries, countries treated as “poor” when we are rich in our own ways, were centered in leadership, then there would be no COP27. We might have resolved this all a long time ago.
A loss and damage demonstration on the way from the pavilions to the plenary rooms.
You giant carbon emitters, you owe us this money!… Let’s not go to COP28 with the same conversations! For how long are we going to talk about climate finance? Every COP, every COP we get and have conversations, same conversations! Can we get done with climate finance on COP27, please? Next year, COP28, let’s have other conversations! We can’t keep talking about the same. We are wasting time, resources, money, everything, we are wasting a lot of time. It’s overdue. This money will help a lot of countries that have a lot of loss and damage. Please pay up today! Thank you.
Climate change will not be solved by financial mechanisms – they are a cause of it. Real solutions foreground Indigenous Peoples and Mother Earth, not financial institutions.
On the bus from the airport to my hotel, my first sunset in Sharm el-Sheikh.
Where are you from?
I’m from the US.
Okay, but where are you really from?
It’s a question I’ve often been asked at the COP 27 conference.
It’s a question that usually makes me cringe, as an Asian American and one of the few in my family to be born in the US. It’s a question that comes tinged with a sense that somehow every Asian is a new pervasive immigrant despite several hundreds of years of Asians in America (see: The Making of Asian America by Erika Lee, 2015). With it goes the myth of the American Dream, of being a “model minority” who can achieve being “American” if we just pick ourselves up by the bootstraps.
However, here at COP 27, it’s a question I am, for once, excited to answer:
I’m Burmese Chinese, and my parents immigrated from Myanmar.
And after some chatting, we get to the point where I clarify that Myanmar is not at this conference.
Neither were they last year, after the return of the military coup in February 2021, striking violence across the country in the midst of a worldwide pandemic. I remember that day, feeling my face getting heated, my throat closing up, and my eyes starting to water. I remember the unbearable frustration I shared with the few other peers with ethnic heritage from Myanmar I had, seeping out and spilling over. Just as we had grown up struggling to search for legitimate streams of information about what was going on in the country outside what we knew from those we were directly connected to—some of us furthermore illiterate in our native languages—our calls to action for international support made far from the headlines, or the headlines that did were riddled with disinformation.
Yet, as the country is a member of the UN, I still found this sign in the overflow room for the plenary.
A sign that says Myanmar on a table in a room with many other tables in front facing rows.
I’m excited to share my ethnic heritage with people in the hopes I might find someone else out there from an ethnic group of Myanmar. To have a connection with more than a plastic sign here. Even with my complex feelings about the notion of a “national identity” around “Myanmar”, I knew the exclusion of the country would be one of the largest defining factors in my ability to find other members of the diaspora. I knew it would mean the global conversations around climate change would move on without acknowledging the people in that country, my friends and family, who have been undergoing floods at unprecedented scales across the recent years, putting a global biodiversity hot spot at risk. It’s my fourth day here, and I have been thankful to the many people who have tried to connect me to groups that might be able to help… but I still haven’t succeeded.
This will not stop my search.
On the other hand, what I did find were other youth who shared similar sentiments:
Oh, I am/We are also from a community that is not represented at this conference, attending through other means.
These peers too understood the experience of being of communities that are silenced from the international political dialogue, one that has been structurally designed to erase us. We sit as observers in negotiation rooms as jargon flies by, we sit as the pressure of what all these conversations are supposed to mean to us creeps in. We ask each other:
So… why we even here?
And is that enough?
Am I doing enough, to carry the burden of all my ancestors before me who worked hard so I could be here now?
It’s hard to watch, as people move in groups all around me, connected by one thing or the other, while feeling so incredibly aware of how, if not for colonialism, imperialism, you name it… there would be others like me too. It’s certainly not a new feeling, but it is one that hits different each time it comes up again.
Suddenly, I feel so small.
Though, having someone that understands makes me feel, a little less small, and a little more of a sense of belonging.
I am reminded of a quote that too, re-emerges just as often:
There’s really no such thing as the ‘voiceless’. There are only the deliberately silenced, or the preferably unheard.
Arundhati Roy
Marginalized peoples, whether acknowledged by international political powers or not, have never been “voiceless”. We have been fighting for hundreds of years. Our voices continue to ring on.
There have been many references to the centerpiece of this COP:
This is the year that COP 27 actually moves towards acting on implementation.
This is the year that COP 27 actually centers food systems.
This is the year that COP 27 actually supports youth participation.
This is the year that COP 27 actually addresses loss and damage.
Well, I can tell you for a fact that this is the year that COP 27 has a Climate justice Pavilion in the Blue Zone, in spite of representing people that would otherwise be in the Green Zone, one-off events to check off the “diversity” requirement of their programming, or not present at all. I am thankful to have had the invitation to volunteer with them during my time in the conference through one of the main organizers WeACT for Environmental Justice. One of WeACT’s top community priorities is energy security and I connected with them through Young Professionals in Energy-NYC’s mentorship program.
I am continuously starstruck to meet environmental justice leaders whose works I’ve read in class or podcasts I’ve listened to while on the subway or online webinars I attended from my bedroom, and to be actively part of the work to support them. I could only describe this as a fraction of the amount of gratitude I have. Their work has pushed me to further dive into decolonizing my own identity, and working for and with community.
Dr. Beverly Wright introducing the first panelists and opening of the pavilion
As the first event “Global Afro Descendant Climate Justice Collaborative” unfolded, the energy could be felt in the room:
One chants: What do we want?
All join in: Climate Justice!
One: When do we want it?
All: Now!
Now. Now!
Now is and always has been and always will be, across every moment in the movement for social justice, the time for those responsible for the climate chaos we are experiencing to compensate those from which they have extracted from and disproportionately sacrificed, from Black and brown communities in the Global South and the reconstructions of Global South within the Global North.
There is no climate justice without social justice. Until then, none of us are free.
The panelists made it explicit: racism is baked into COP27 proceedings. Climate reparations must be in dialogue, must be paid up, and must be noted as only a piece to addressing a history of systemic injustice.
Having voices from climate justice communities be represented for the “good optics” is not enough. They need to be centered, and actions must be taken to implement the solutions that will genuinely address the needs for/with/by those at the frontlines. An example of an approach to this is what Dr. Robert Bullard would refer to as “community-based participatory research”.
My hand holding a copy of Hoodwinked in the Hothouse
A member of Climate Justice Alliance stopped by to hand off copies of the latest edition of Hoodwinked in the Hothouse: Resist False Solutions to Climate Change. I recognized it right away. After all, one of the contributing organizations, Energy Justice Network, collaborate along with Chester Residents Concerned for Quality Living (CRCQL) to engage Swarthmore College students in the Environmental Justice courses and Campus Coalition Concerning Chester (C4) in the fight against the nation’s largest incinerator for “waste to energy” (a common false solution) located in the city of Chester.
Chester, less than 4 miles away from our campus, is a predominantly low-income African American community faced with generations of health conditions due to the toxins they were being forced to live with in the air. Air that travels along to even our seemingly unaffected predominately white institution located on an arboretum designed on stolen land. CRCQL has been in this fight for over 20 years, and they have been told before that if did not take the trash coming in from all across the US, then it would be sold to be shipped and dumped to another country in Africa—perpetuating the global waste trade (see: Resisting Global Toxics: Transnational Movements for Environmental Justice by David Pellow, 2007).
If you don’t think you live in an environmental justice community, then you’re living next to one.
Zulene Mayfield, while visiting our class last year
After the second event of the day at the pavilion, “Climate Litigation in South Africa: Vulnerable communities resisting fossil fuels and protecting their right to participation (Earthjustice)”, members from the audience joined in to share their experiences, their fights, their wins, and their strategies, from Liberia to Zimbabwe to Puerto Rico, picking up between each other while sharing their truths. Local revolutions collectively all part of one big revolution, reminding me of The Next American Revolution: Sustainable Activism for the Twenty-First Century by Grace Lee Boggs, 2011.
The Blue Zone’s dominant operating narratives put global climate justice stakeholders at a dissonance from one another. Climate Justice Pavilion is not just a site of resistance to dismantle these narratives, it is a site of healing and grounding. The Climate Justice Pavilion structurally configures itself subversively, building power and kinship in solidarity for a just climate transition across cultures, faiths, and generations.
The founders of the three main organizations leading the Climate Justice Pavilion on stage for the Keynote Panel