Story, Place, and Preparedness

Introduction from September 2024 Newsletter

Earlier this week, I dropped my children off for their first day of school. In the previous days, we talked a lot about the coming transition. My oldest child, now going into third grade, was filled with excitement along with the slightest twinge of grief over summer ending. My youngest, entering kindergarten, was “nerve-cited”, that familiar blend of nerves and anticipation that many of us know well.

As I listened to their reflections on the start of another school year, I contemplated how best to support them in this moment of transition. I recalled the stocking up on school supplies of my childhood: the pencils, trapper keepers (remember those?), and new lunch boxes. In retrospect, I recognized an effort to feel prepared. 

However, there were very few items my children truly needed as we approached the start of school. They were already “prepared” in terms of external objects. What was needed, for all of us, was internal preparation. 

I think a lot about preparation in my work with ACTT. How do we prepare for the years ahead, when we must act with a level of unprecedented creativity, collaboration, and compassion as we face the combined challenge of increasing climate impacts and increasing urgency to lower emissions? Under these circumstances, how do we make choices and act from a place of thoughtfulness, with a full understanding of the consequences of our choices and actions?

Underlying all of these questions is a common thread: How do we prepare for the unknown? While comprehensive scientific projections exist for impacts associated with different levels of global warming and while these projections inform our work in many ways, there is still so much we do not know, particularly because we do not know how humans, within our homes, towns, and within the global community, will respond. 

As I considered how best to support my children in preparing for the school year ahead, I came back to what helps me feel “prepared”. Preparedness, for me, is a feeling of groundedness, of full presence in the moment. When I think about what helps me build this sense of groundedness and presence, two factors rise to the top: a connection to place and ease with the underlying narrative through which I filter my understanding of both the present and future possibilities.

As my children navigate the many unknowns of the school year ahead, and as we, human beings, navigate the many, many more unknowns of life with climate change, I know these two factors will play essential roles. We will need a strong connection to the places we call home and the communities and ecosystems of which we are a part in order to stay grounded through tremendous change. This groundedness will also help us make decisions that are characterized by awareness of the ripples of our actions. 

We will also need a cohesive narrative, or story, about who we are, our connection to the whole system of life, and about what is possible as we attempt to simultaneously reduce climate change while building community resilience. Stories have always played a central role in human societies, and they seem to become critically important during times of challenge.

Appreciation for the importance of place and story has driven the design of our upcoming event with renowned author Kim Stanley Robinson. I’ve had the great privilege of a few conversations with Stan over the recent years, and I have been struck by the way in which connection to the places he loves drives his thinking and writing, both generally and specifically as it relates to climate change. And with The Ministry for the Future, Stan masterfully and thoughtfully cultivated a narrative that illuminates many different possible pathways forward in a world increasingly shaped by climate change. We are excited for a community conversation with Stan on September 28th and are busy developing a format to facilitate many voices participating in the conversation together. 

As my children near the end of their first week of school, they are overflowing with stories about the places they explored, the people they connected with, and the possibilities for the school year ahead. It is very clear to me that these connections to place and story are providing the solid ground on which they walk with ease towards the coming months, much more so than any new, freshly sharpened pencil ever could.