As a fifteen-year-old climate activist, it was an incredible experience to attend COP 26, the UN climate change conference,  in November 2021. As an official delegate from the nonprofit the Human Impacts Institute, I spoke with global policymakers, nonprofit leaders, and activists from around the world, all of whom gave me hope for a better future. Yet, at the same time, I faced a myriad of disappointments, ranging from the Eurocentric displays of power and oppression to the lack of youth and indigenous representation and the rampant tokenization of those voices. 

Despite these agents threatening to destroy the very fibers of what we’re working hard to create, I look toward the guidance of the great activists and policymakers who are working toward productive, collaborative conversations in this time of crisis. A member of the Scottish delegation told me she hoped that COP 26 would be an opportunity to show how nations often sidelined in international negotiations are “actively… working together to make a big difference.” Her words highlighted something that I have continued to notice after the conference: the work of smaller devolved nations like Scotland is not shown to the world. They don’t have a chance to share their story, and the narrative is instead dominated by global superpowers intent on lessening their role in the solution strategy.

Scotland’s efforts exemplify the struggle of small nations across the world.  Listening to their stories, not through news articles but from the delegates themselves, rekindled a spark in me. We need to present these stories and show the world that we can act on climate change.

Stories and storytelling are essential in the climate movement because they humanize climate change and climate action. Many people think of climate change as a top-down issue, both within their own countries and internationally. However, if we refocus the narrative to show the world what is starting from the bottom — the small countries, the people, the activists — then we can show the people at the top how to get it done. That is why I think it’s so important the Scottish delegate emphasized that Scotland is a “devolved nation” (where decision-making is closer to the people). It shows us that when countries listen to the cries of their constituents, to the cries of the people, we can make a difference.

However, the problem with COP 26 was that the most important stories weren’t on display at the conference. In particular, I spoke with the delegation of Côte d’Ivoire. Through our conversations about responsibility for the climate crisis and climate action, we concluded that Côte d’Ivoire should have very little responsibility; after all, they have been the victim of vicious colonialism. The colonizers, not the colonized, have caused this crisis.  We also solemnly acknowledged that responsibility isn’t working out this way. It has become the responsibility of Côte d’Ivoire to clean up our mess. 

They told me they must shift their agricultural patterns to account for flooding in one region and drought in another. They told me that their people struggle to make ends meet in a world where the global supply chain is constantly disrupted. But most of all, they told me how they’re getting no help.

Institutions designed to assist Côte d’Ivoire — like West African banks, intergovernmental organizations, and foreign governments — are not helping. Despite that, Côte d’Ivoire is still fighting back against climate change, allocating every dollar they can spare to help their people, which is certainly more than our country is doing.

Their story is a cry for help from people living this crisis. Just as Scotland's story gives us hope, Côte d’Ivoire’s story tells us where to manifest that hope into action. It’s the exact kind of story that global policymakers should be hearing. So why wasn’t Côte d’Ivoire’s story broadcast from the main plenary of COP 26? Why did they not get the chance to share their narrative with the world?

Before talking to Côte d’Ivoire, I was in the plenary, listening to a man (whose name I can’t recall) talk about climate investment. He proclaimed in front of the enormous body of reporters and policymakers that corporations and governments worldwide are stepping up and investing in climate solutions. He informed us that we’ve already done phenomenal climate action.

That’s who the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change decided to put up to catalyze global climate action: the white man who’s telling us that western countries are doing everything perfectly. Where does Côte d’Ivoire’s story fit into his narrative? Where does the pain and suffering that billions of people are experiencing across the world fit into his narrative?

Indeed, that is why fixing the narrative is so critical to our future success. For decades, the narrative of “western saviors” ending climate change has dominated the movement. This flagrant display of Eurocentrism and Americentrism persists today. Indeed, this flawed and dangerous ideology is the reason why the stories from other nations are oppressed and stay unheard.

 

So what can we do to fix this glaring problem? 

First, representation and inclusion. COP 26 had record-setting inclusion of indigenous and youth voices, which was an important and wonderful first step. Where the conference stopped short, however, was inclusion. Instead of the type of inclusion that was supposed to take place, tokenization became rampant. Tokenization is where indigenous, minority, and youth voices are brought in to deliver grand speeches, asked to pose for a few pictures, and then ushered out of the room while the delegates resume their conversations as if nothing had happened. It satisfies politicians’ constituents and the media, but these groups still do not have a seat at the table. We can only begin to change the narrative and create real action when we invite these groups in and include them in the decision-making process.

Second, elevate the right voices. The fossil fuel industry had the largest delegation present. Meanwhile, youth and indigenous voices did not get the microphone. While big-name youth activists like Greta Thunberg, Xiye Bastida, Jerome Foster, and Kevin Patel spoke at the conference, I didn’t see another youth outside of our delegation until my fourth day there. The youth voice is critical to the global climate movement. We provide a unique perspective: we have known about climate change our entire lives and have had to confront the grim reality of our future from a young age. We have no other choice but to face this issue head on because our very livelihood depends on it. Yet our voices are also not heard. We are featured on the news as “brave young people fighting for their future” (which we are), but time and time again we are not included in the conversation. When we start giving these groups a platform to share their stories, they can impact a wide audience with their powerful messages.

Third, listen. It is the simplest to do yet the hardest to accomplish. Everyone is guilty of this: we walk with our hands practically over our ears, filtering out everything except what we want to hear. We have to stop. We have to let the rest in, to hear everyone and engage with everything. We may not like what we hear all the time, but it is the only way that we can truly solve this global crisis.

It may be hard to believe that I have any hope for our future. But I do, I sincerely do. I have hope that we can work together to solve this crisis. I have hope that we can pull our heads out of the sand. I have hope that we can listen to the right people and take real action. Most of all, I have hope that we can work together. Climate action and my strategies here may seem like far-off goals, but they must be implemented this coming November at COP 27, in domestic climate debates, and everywhere around the world. It is the only way that we can truly connect and create a future.