The challenge we address is a combination of two interrelated destructive phenomena. The first is the emerging catastrophe of climatological disruption. Communities around the globe are facing unprecedented challenges as they grapple with the impacts of climate change. Climbing temperatures, sea-level rise, and extreme weather events threaten the fabric of these communities’ cultural heritage—the traditions, languages, customs, and histories that encapsulate their values, experiences, and knowledge.
Indigenous populations in our focus areas (Africa and related diaspora, Oceania, and Central America) are particularly vulnerable to these changes. The increasing frequency and severity of extreme weather events put pressure on fragile ecosystems, compromising the foundation of community life.
As sense of place, languages, customs, and traditions fade away, so too do the unique perspectives and values passed through generations. This loss of heritage is a loss for all humanity, as it diminishes our collective understanding and appreciation of the diversity that makes us human.
The second aspect of our challenge is our failure to effectively respond to climate change. A paradox informs this lack of action: great strides in engineering, our ingenious economic instruments, our reclamation and refinement of dormant energy, our sophisticated algorithms—accomplishments popularly termed progress—have created the current state of a violent and unpredictable climate. Governments and industry have fallen short of achieving action at scale, leaving organizations, movements, and projects across the planet to step in to attempt to mitigate climate disruption. The ability, and demand, to apply these uncoordinated solutions to an effective measure is scattershot.
In some respects, our challenge is as fundamental as human nature.
El mar mira al bosque.El Bosque by María Baranda
El bosque no tiene mar.
El bosque es simple. Es rojo es un corazón de tigre que ruge y es luz
con tres rayas blancas y grita. No grita.
El bosque sale a la luz y apuñala a nubes y a pájaros. Es un alma que se pierde.
Es inocente como un gusano que nace y canta. No canta. Dice en la noche.
El bosque silba de noche y aparece en el ojo del ojo de las culebras muertas.
Se retuerce. Es un lecho de raíces terráqueas hinchándose a solas.
El bosque está a solas.
Es una luna helada que contempla el paso de una niña.
Far far away, behind the word mountains