creativity

Humans aren’t wired to protect nature—but that’s not the whole story

“People partner with nature”. I created this image with the help of Canva’s Magic Media AI tool 

As a storyteller and sustainability advocate I focus on people who aren’t committed (yet) to protecting nature because that’s where the greatest change happens. This means I’m often faced with people who deny climate change, feel hopeless, or think technology and / or someone else will restore the planet’s health. 

As you can imagine, I have to employ a number of tactics to remain optimistic and motivated. One way I do this is by listening to podcasts about people doing incredible work in nature. I’m passionate about rewilding, or as David Balharry, CEO of Scotland’s John Muir Trust, reframes it “nature’s freedom to repair itself”. This passion led me to Ben Goldsmith’s Rewilding the World podcast. Ben spoke to David in episode 1 of the second season. They discuss rewilding the Scottish Highlands, an area I’m hoping to visit this summer. 

The entire episode is enlightening, and one point in particular helped me. No species in history, humans included, has ever been hardwired to protect the planet. They (we) are hardwired to promote the successful perpetuation of our genetics. Said another way, at their base all living things first focus on their future generations surviving and thriving. This means people aren’t naturally focused on environmental conservation. It must be intentional. It’s a skill that takes practice. Therefore, the work I’m doing with naysayers, the hopeless, and technocrats is training and re-skilling them. I’m a teacher, a guide, and learning takes times. That reframe is helping me think about my work with more compassion and patience. 

I also want to be clear that our instinct for genetic survival is only part of who we are. Human beings have an enormous cerebral cortex unique (as far as we know) in the animal kingdom. Our brains simultaneously act and reflect on our actions to inform our future behavior and shape our thoughts. We can think long-term, imagine future scenarios, and bring them to fruition, even if we don’t always exercise that ability as deftly as we could

Our long-term planning capabilities make us unique and distinct from other species. This doesn’t mean we’re smarter, wiser, or superior. It means we have a responsibility to be conscientious global citizens who care for each other and future generations, other species with whom we share this planet, and ecosystems that make our existence possible. 

Over half of our global GDP depends on nature, in addition to providing our basic needs for clean air, water, and food. We can’t live without nature. If we’re thoughtful about our behavior, we can help nature help us. Scientist Dr. Robin Wall Kimmerer’s research shows humans can assist and enhance nature’s regeneration. That’s a partnership and story well worth the investment of our time, efforts, and money. 

creativity

The National Climate Assessment shows us we can save the world

Photo by Shane Rounce on Unsplash

Look at your hands. Coupled with your mind and heart, your hands, joined with mine and with people across the globe, have the power to save the world. We can choose to be the artificers of our own bright and bountiful future.

Today we have a once-in-human-existence opportunity — the chance to create a healthy, vibrant, sustainable world for all beings. And not just for our children and grandchildren, but for ourselves and all beings alive right now.

The 2023 National Climate Assessment released Tuesday in the U.S. lays out the dire possibilities from global warming. It also shows that collectively we have all the knowledge, money, and creativity we need to halt emissions that cause global warming. There is proof the solutions work. Climate solutions are being deployed nationwide in every region and annual emissions dropped 12% from 2013–2019. We need them to drop much more but this is progress.

The one remaining hold out is us. Do we have the will to save ourselves and life on Earth?

“How much more the world warms depends on the choices societies make today,” states the report. “The future is in human hands.”

The report is hefty and so is the opportunity before us. Let’s not waste it.

creativity

Your story is not about you

Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash

Had the most fascinating conversation with an expert in audience segmentation who is an oceanographer and thinks deeply about climate change communications. For our climate message to reach someone in a way that impacts their behavior, he said we need to be entrenched in the minds of the audience member we want to reach and be willing to change our story and language so it is created in that audience member’s mind in the way we want and need it to be. In this way, our story is not our story in the traditional sense. Our story is the imprint we want the audience member to experience and visualize when they hear our story.

He gave me this analogy: if someone wants to send a microwave signal across the city of Los Angeles, that signal will be distorted and filtered between the start and end points. Therefore, the person sending the signal needs to re-engineer the signal they send so the signal at the end point is what they want it to be.

Our stories are no different. They are filtered through an audience member’s language, prior life experience, biases, hopes, wants, needs, and fears. This is information that isn’t and can’t be aligned with an audience member’s base demographics that are easy to collect. Understanding an audience member on this level requires deep, intense, curious, and radically empathetic listening, a skill that is sadly in short supply in today’s world.

We also need to let go of the idea that there is one story to communicate one goal or one experience to a general audience. This understanding of the audience requires us as storytellers in any form to develop a library of stories that will reach audiences that are more thoroughly and thoughtfully segmented.

How to do this is the crux of my dissertation for University of Cambridge. I don’t know the answers yet, but I’m excited to find out as this dissertation unfolds. My hope is that my research will move the ball forward for the climate community in a way that benefits all beings.

creativity

Trees show us how to survive in difficult times

Photo of Prospect Park by Christa Avampato

“I just want to live life all the way through. That is all.” ~Nan Shepherd

On my morning run in Prospect Park, I caught my first glimpse of autumn, my favorite season, one of catch and release, color and darkness, change and preservation, our two halves becoming whole. Trees changing and losing their leaves have so much to teach us about how we live and work. Biomimicry in action.

Deciduous trees let go of their leaves to survive the winter and live to see the next spring: it conserves energy and water, and allows wind to blow through the branches, putting less strain on the tree during winter storms.

In this next season of life, what will you do and what will you let go of so you can arrive in the next season rested and ready when the light and warmth return?

I am taking a little time every day to read place-based books about nature and landscape by people like Nan Shepherd and Robert Macfarlane who go out into the natural world and take it all in.

I am letting go of always thinking 10 ten steps ahead. Some amount of planning is necessary, but sometimes I get so caught up in the future that I don’t fully appreciate and learn from the now. So I’m going to make a conscious effort to love and be exactly where I am each day.

What about you? What will you do? What will you let go of?

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

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.