creativity

It’s time for a public-private funded climate WPA and PWA in NYC

Screenshot of Brooklyn floods on September 29, 2023 captured by ABC 7 NY

“If I don’t work, I don’t eat so I have to be out here, even when there’s a flood.” This was a quote from a NYC delivery worker on the news during the September 29th, 2023 flash floods. His electric bike failed in the knee-deep water. He was pushing it against the current to deliver food. 

NYC now has the largest income gap of any large city in the country — the top 20% make 53 times more than the bottom 20%. We’re failing our people with no social safety net, no protection from climate hardship, and few pathways out of their circumstances. City workers often live in temporary shelter and public housing because they don’t earn enough to make rent but residency is often required for their jobs. 

This city is run by service workers. They are the lifeblood that keeps the city moving. Failing them will cause the city to crumble. 

We also have the migrant crisis. Right now at the U.S.-Mexico border, the city is distributing these fliers:

Flyer being handed out at the U.S.-Mexico border

I cried reading it. This has been the city of dreams for decades. Now it is the city of dreams only for those who are already of means. That cannot continue. 

New York is a city of immigrants. It always has been. They enrich and enliven the social and economic fabric on which this city’s creativity thrives. Without them, we lose who we are and what we stand for. 

The economics and business side of my brain spends the bulk of my waking hours thinking about how to support New Yorkers, present and future. How do we boost the economy and provide opportunity to everyone who wants to be a New Yorker? How do we rebuild this city, not just for the privileged few but for all the huddled masses yearning to be free so that everyone wins together?

The historian and storyteller side of my brain always sifts the sands of the past to see what I can find and use. As the late great John Lewis, who was at one time a New Yorker and is one of my greatest inspirations, often said, “We must make a way out of no way.” 

We have an immense amount of capital—NYC is the wealthiest city in the world with 340,000 millionaires. We also have staggering gaps in our economy that need attention: 24,000 city jobs vacancies, 20% office space vacancies, and city infrastructure that desperately needs repairs, particularly to prepare for climate impacts. We have people who want to work and make a difference but are being left behind—5.3% unemployment, 11.5% underemployment, 17% youth unemployment, 90,000 migrants and asylum-seekers over the last 18 months, and over 100,000 people without housing.

Now imagine this: New Yorkers of means collaborate hand-in-hand with policy makers and city agencies to put all of this wasted human capital to good use to rebuild this city through a Works Progress Administration / Public Works Administration that focuses on nature-based solutions. Good jobs. Good work. A way out of no way. They fortify our 520 miles of coastline with reefs, mangroves, and natural defenses, clean up, restore, and regenerate the 10,000 vacant lots for productive use like bioswales that reduce floods and the pressure placed on the water, sewer, and transporation systems, install green roofs and rooftop gardens, and build and connect wildlife corridors and habitats. 

That’s just a start of how NYC can work with nature so that everyone is cared for. There are dozens of other solutions that are relatively low-cost, efficient, and proven to clean the air, water, and land—benefits that benefit every resident, visitor, and commuter. 

This doesn’t have to be a concrete jungle. It can be a green, verdant, healthy, thriving place for all beings who want to be New Yorkers. It’s going to take a massive mobilization, and the relentless pursuit to match needs with resources to transform our challenges into opportunities. We have to do this work, and we have to do it now while we still have time. I’m tired of a dirty, flooded, and unequal New York. Aren’t you? I love this city. I love New Yorkers. And I want us to do better. We have to do better, and we can—together.

creativity

A river flows in Brooklyn

South Brooklyn during Friday’s floods. Photo by Christa Avampato.

A river flowed from Prospect Park through my neighborhood in South Slope, Brooklyn on Friday when we were pummeled with 7+ inches of rain in ~12 hours. I didn’t realize NYC’s floods were international news until I started getting messages from friends outside the country. With over 13 inches of rain in September, this is the 2nd wettest September since NYC began keeping weather records in 1920.

I took this photo of the flooding from my apartment at 8am. As I watched the water gushing through the streets, I thought about a conversation I had with my friend, Alex MacLennan, almost a decade ago. He told me the climate models then predicted the western half of the US would grow increasingly drier and hotter while the eastern half would be regularly flooded. How right they were.

NYC is an archipelago that sits mostly at sea-level surrounded by brackish water with the busiest shipping port in the US. Though it looms large on the national and international stages as a financial, cultural, political, and media capital, area-wise it’s small and easily overwhelmed by water.

It is, in many ways, a climate disaster waiting to happen. It’s the mostly densely populated city in the U.S. with nearly 28,000 people per square mile and has the largest population with almost 9 million people, more than double the size of the next largest city. The population doubles during the workday with as many commuters as residents. It’s also a city of hard surfaces (though we have 7 million trees and the tree canopy covers 21% of the city). Aged infrastructure and a subterranean subway that is 100+ years old further compound threats from flash flooding, coastal storms, and sea level rise. Flooding here is a crisis that must be urgently and unrelentingly addressed.

The country and world can’t afford to lose New York. While some strides have been made to protect the city from climate change, it’s not nearly enough. But all that may be changing, and fast.

There are plans underway to transform Governor’s Island in New York Harbor into the largest climate research and entrepreneurial center in the world. We desperately need this. The scale and impact of this project on our city, the country, and the world will be significant. It has to be significant because the climate crisis deepens every day.

These floods will become more frequent and intense in the coming years. We have to mitigate and adapt at the same time with nature-based solutions like biophilic architecture, mangroves, reefs, rooftop farms, and the transformation of vacant lots into bioswales. They are proven, efficient, and relatively inexpensive solutions. I hope the work at Governor’s Island can make these ideas realities.

Like all investments, nature-based solutions take time to create and scale. We have no more time to waste. We have to get started now, and it’s my hope that I can do my part to push this work forward.

creativity

Nature is our ally, not our adversary

Photo by Lukasz Szmigiel on Unsplash

You know what you need to produce oil and gas? Water. Lots of it. For fracking. You know who produces the most oil and gas worldwide? I guessed Saudi Arabia. I was wrong. The U.S. is now the world’s largest oil and gas producer. 

In the last 13 years, the U.S. has used 1.5 trillion gallons of water for fracking. That’s the amount of water used annually by the state of Texas with a population of nearly 30 million people. It’s a triple whammy against the planet by America — the emissions created by these fossil fuels, the extensive use of water to complete fracking exercises to get those fossil fuels out of the ground, and the immense damage done to ecosystems by fracking, a process that creates vast amounts of wastewater, emits greenhouse gases such as methane, releases toxic air pollutants and generates noise, destroys animal and plant habitats, causes species decline, disrupts animal migrations, and degrades land.

But don’t worry, says one of the wealthiest and most prominent scientists in the world, because human ingenuity and technology are going to save us. According to him, nature-based solutions are “nonsense” and “idiotic”. “There are effects on humanity,” he said last week at Climate Week NYC, assessing the overall threats posed by climate change. “The planet, less so. It’s a fairly resilient thing.”

I used to be grateful that he was in the climate conversation. Now, I’m disappointed by yet another prominent scientist who has gone off-the-rails and is ignoring science. Maybe it’s fear. Maybe it’s wishful thinking. Maybe it’s desperation at the dire state of the planet.

This is what I know to be true — the wisdom of nature far exceeds any wisdom of any human who has ever lived. To claim otherwise, is the height of ignorance and arrogance. It’s dangerous to listen to someone who puts himself above nature, especially when he has one of the highest personal carbon footprints in the world and the health of the natural world underpins half of global GDP (~$40 trillion).

Nature knows how to create conditions conducive to life. The human track record on supporting life, including our own, is abysmal. I’m banking on nature’s wisdom every single day. She’s an ally, not an adversary, and we must listen and respect her before it’s too late. Nature made our existence possible. 

Human ingenuity, while offering many gifts, has given us climate change, fracking, and perhaps the recipe for our own extinction. The most ingenious actions humans could take now are to listen to and learn from nature, and work with her, not against her. She’s ready to play ball. She always has been. The question now is, are we?

creativity

Takeaways from Climate Week NYC 2023

Photo by Willian Justen de Vasconcellos on Unsplash

I spent last week inspired by storytelling, a mechanism of empathy as Neil Gaiman calls it, during Climate Week NYC. I met dozens of family office leaders and their advisors. My dissertation for University of Cambridge focuses on this intersection — how storytelling can galvanize family office investment in nature-based solutions.

A few take-aways:

Language matters
I went to a New York Public Library event with Eliza Reid and Dr. Jenni Haukio, the First Ladies of Iceland and Finland. The discussion was moderated by Neil Gaiman, my favorite author. All three of them emphasized the importance of language and how the words we choose are intimately tied to our culture, geography, and ecology.

When talking about climate change, we can feel overwhelmed by inertia. One way to break that inertia is to go out into nature and listen to the stories she tells. The beauty and wonder of nature, and the inspiration she provides, is worth protecting, saving, and sacrificing for. Stories, in any medium and format, can center nature in powerful ways that emotionally connect us to one another and the natural world.

Art is vital to the climate conversation
Science, governance, and finance matter enormously in climate. Art matters just as much. It is the way in for many people. The expression of climate change’s impact on a personal level sticks with people more than facts and figures. We save things we love, that hold meaning for us, and art is a way to convey love and meaning. I want to create more climate talks and actions that are cross-sector, cross-generational, cross-geography. Let’s tear down the walls that divide us in favor of the bridges that connect us. I didn’t see a single talk at Climate Week that includes scientists, artists, policy makers, and financiers together on one stage. I’d like to make that the norm.

Where there are helpers, there is hope
I went to E2’s session on how New York (City and State) can make the most of the Inflation Reduction Act, the largest climate investment ever made by the U.S. government. I met three entrepreneurs who are doing innovative product development in the energy space. All are career switchers. They sincerely want to help, and that gives me hope.

Passion drives progress
I spoke to some financiers trying to serve family offices. I asked them what they love about what they do. They looked at me wide-eyed and silent. They have no idea what they love about what they do. They’ve never thought about it. They’re working on climate because as they said, “it’s what’s next”. 

I emphatically encouraged them to consider the why as much as the what. If they are just in this for their piece of the pie, that distracts from and hinders the movement. This work is too important, too vital to the well-being of every being to be in this just for the money they think they can make. Passion is the driving force for progress. Money is fuel for the journey. Let’s not get it twisted.

creativity

The possibility of September

Photo by Elena Mozhvilo on Unsplash

Sweet September. Let this be a month to remember, when we dug deeper, rose higher, and found a way forward. And if we find that there is no way, then let’s build the courage, commitment, and community to make one. There is so much in our world, and often in ourselves, to revitalize, regenerate, and renew.

I see September as my new year, a time when what is worn falls away so that new seeds for new beginnings can be planted. Not all of them will take root. Some relationships will fizzle. Some tasks, or even whole jobs and vocations, will no longer hold our attention. The place we have called home may feel less like one.

When this happens, there’s a bit of mourning, maybe even some regrets. The wouldas, couldas, and shouldas will start making themselves known and heard. It’s okay to have a listen, and then decide what lessons we’ll take with us into the next harvest. Sime of the seeds to planted with begin to reach for the light. Those are the ones that deserve our attention.

In time, we’ll find our rhythm again. We’ll meet someone new or see someone we’ve known in a new light. We’ll discover or rediscover the work that lights us up. We may even find that home is not a place at all, but a feeling, a sense of self we can take with us anywhere and everywhere we go.

This September I hope our lives are filled with love and joy and peace, and that we will find all the ways to make it so for ourselves and others. Happy weekend.

creativity

Fun and play are a part of work

Photo by LI FEI on Unsplash

For my University of Cambridge dissertation, I’ve been thinking about ways to bring my passion for biomimicry into the research without causing my own scope creep. Now deep into my literature review reading, I found a way to not only avoid scope creep but to use biomimicry and my intense love for nature-based solutions as a way to focus my dissertation. I’m so firmly planted in my happy place now that the hours of work fly by until my sweet old dog toddles over to my desk to tell me it’s time to go out for a walk.

Charles Darwin, legendary naturalist and Cambridge alum, is one of my fun at work icons. He wrote tens of thousands of personal letters over the course of his lifetime. (A collection of the 15,000 that have been found to-date are accessible in the University of Cambridge’s collections). What those letters communicate that his formal academic writing does not show is that his work was so much fun for him that it felt more like play. If Darwin can have fun while doing his research, then I can, too.

So whatever you’re doing today from wherever you are in the world, I hope you’re having fun and that your work lights you up in a way that also lightens your spirit. It’s not too much to ask.

I’ve had moments in my career when my work felt like drudgery. I’m really glad and grateful that I made the changes to change that. It wasn’t easy but for me it was worth it.

creativity

Life lessons from my house plants

I’m a bit ashamed about something: though I grew up on a farm, I’ve been unable to keep house plants alive. Until now! After moving in June to a new apartment with loads of natural light and a steady breeze, my house plants are thriving, sprouting new shoots, and happily reaching up and out. I literally danced around and clapped my hands at this new life growing on my windowsill this morning. What an incredible metaphor for life.

In the words of Taylor Swift, with plants, I always thought, “It’s me. Hi. I’m the problem. It’s me.” Turns out it was the environment the plants and I were in that needed to change. Sometimes, a change of scene is the key to a change of self.

I love new beginnings of all shapes and sizes—new jobs and projects, new adventures and travels, new relationships, new friendships. Even something small like these new shoots from my plants and learning to care for them, starting a new book, or walking through a part of town I’ve not been to in a while (or ever, as I’m learning with my new home in Brooklyn!) gives me a whole new lease on life. There’s energy and inspiration in the new. A beginner’s mindset is a wondrous thing.

To help my plants thrive, I let them tell me what they needed. Water. Lots of light and fresh air. Some music. Room to grow, change, and evolve. We’re not so different.

Perhaps the most important bit I’m thinking of today while looking at my plants is that new growth needs extra support. “The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations. The new needs friends,” as Brad Bird wrote. I don’t know what it is about that new that’s so threatening that some will try their best to stamp it out. I’m always happy to befriend and learn from the new. We need the new now more than ever. In a world where we can be anything, let’s be kind, particularly to those just starting a new journey and especially the natural world. We need each other.

creativity

At Brooklyn’s Green-Wood Cemetery, the circle of life continues

Brooklyn’s Green-Wood Cemetery is much more than a final resting place for over 600,000 people. It’s also an arboretum, wildlife sanctuary, and a community resource to mitigate climate change where life and death exist side-by-side. A 30-minute walk from my apartment, it’s a place I visit often as I get to know my new borough.

With 478 acres, Green-Wood is home to over 7,000 trees from 690 different species, 216 species of birds (including the Argentinian monk parrots who make their home in the architecture of the entrance gates!), and dozens of species of mammals, fungi, and insects, especially pollinators thanks to their beehives and wildflower meadows. Each new planting is selected for its climate adaptiveness, wildlife value, enhancement of the beauty of the landscape, and resilience. Every year Green-Wood’s living collection is responsible for sequestering 264,000 lbs. of carbon dioxide, removing 12,000 lbs. of pollution from the air we breathe, and mitigating 2,620,000 gallons of stormwater from overwhelming Brooklyn’s sewage system.

Founded in 1838, Green-Wood was Brooklyn’s first public park during a period of rapid urbanization. It became so popular, that it inspired the competition to build both Central Park in Manhattan and nearby Prospect Park in Brooklyn. Olmsted and Vaux won both competitions and designed both parks. After designing Central Park, they said that “Prospect Park is everything we wanted Central Park to be.” How very Brooklyn of them!

Green-Wood is also filled with gorgeous art. Inside the chapel, there’s currently a beautiful art installation paying homage to the stories of lesser known souls who are buried on its grounds. I’ve been to classical music concerts inside the crypt, whiskey tastings on its many sprawling lawns, and a Halloween Party that felt like a New Orleans carnival. It is one of the city’s treasures. No wonder it attracts over 500,000 visitors every year.

I love cemeteries and seek them out when I travel. If you find yourself in New York and want to get a sense of our history, ecology, culture, Green-Wood should be high on your list.

All photos below were taken by me at Green-Wood. You’re welcome to use them as long as they are attributed to me. Thank you.

creativity

Mitigation and adaptation: How to prepare and protect our natural world in the age of climate change

Photo by Mike Newbry on Unsplash

My eyes started to fill up watching the footage from Maui, Hawaii. I’ve struggled to put my emotions into words as I poured over the coverage. Nearly 14 years to the day, I lost almost everything, including my life, to an apartment building fire on the Upper West Side of New York City. I know the fear of running for my life, away from flames and into the emptiness of the aftermath. The smell of that noxious smoke is still in my nose and memory. I think it always will be.

I wish I could be in Maui to help. Whether using my logistics and operations experience to get survivors supplies and basic needs, or just being there to comfort people knowing exactly how they feel to have lost everything, I can’t help but think that my life and career could be of use in the midst of this horrible tragedy.

Already Maui’s fires are prompting conversations in the sustainability community. When we talk about sustainability solutions, we look at mitigation (halting and reversing climate change and its impacts) and adaptation (preparing ourselves for the impacts of a warming world on our lives). Now in my second year at University of Cambridge studying sustainability, I’m beginning to formulate my career plans for what comes next. I’m using this mitigation and adaptation split as a frame for my future work:

  • What can I do to preserve the natural world we have now and rewild, restore, renew, and regenerate what’s been lost?
  • What can I do to prevent the devastation that will continue, and worsen, because of climate change so we protect lives and natural areas?
  • Can I do both, or do I have to choose where I think I can be the most value?

My Cambridge dissertation involves securing funding from the wealthiest people in the world to fill the climate finance gap. One thing I’ll test is which of these strategic objectives, mitigation or adaptation, resonates most with these funders. Maybe they’ll also see the value in both. I suspect this research will help me figure out where I fit into the puzzle, and how my skills can best be utilized as we begin the fight for and battle of our lives. I’m ready to take the journey, wherever it leads.

creativity

The genius of NYC’s London Plan trees that can help us thrive

I was worried about my trees. My block in Brooklyn, my whole neighborhood of Ditmas Park, is covered with gorgeous 100+-year-old, 100+-foot-tall London Plane trees. They’re a cross between oriental plane tree and the American sycamore, and so named because they were hardy enough to withstand London’s air pollution during the Industrial Revolution. Its leaf is the NYC Parks Department logo because Robert Moses loved these trees. The comprise 10% of NYC’s 592,130 street trees.

A few weeks ago, during an intense heatwave, they started shedding their bark. And I don’t mean a bit of peeling here and there. It was raining bark, with swaths so big that my dog, Phin, and I had to dodge them on our neighborhood walks. Was the heat, caused by climate change, killing my trees? Were they resilient enough to survive the Industrial Revolution only to be destroyed by the fallout of today’s emissions?

Mercifully, it appears not, for now at least. Thanks to the wonderful team at Madison Square Park I learned this adaptation of bark shedding was developed by London Planes to protect themselves and help them thrive. It happens when they detect some type of enemy invasion, for example by an insect or fungus, or when they are growing, similar to how a snake sheds their skin in order to grow.

Maybe there is something in your life that needs shedding, that is no longer serving you. Like the London Plane, let it go so you can grow and thrive. These trees are our elders, mentors, and guides. We have so much to learn from them about how to live through turbulent times.

I took the photos below of the London Plane trees on my Brooklyn block.