Well – not moving exactly – but as I move on in my work with climate change I am using my expanded Witness Tree website as a place to continue to tell stories, share pictures and post information about news and events.
Thanks to those of you who were subscribers to this site. It is being archived so you can still access the posts here but I invite you to visit www.TheWitnessTree.org and to follow my work on Instagram, Facebook and Twitter.
I was thrilled to hear yesterday that leaders from the nearly 200 nations assembled in France for the COP21 were able to finalize a new global climate agreement that will ostensibly limit greenhouse gas emissions to prevent temperatures from rising more than 2 degrees C (3.6 degrees F) by 2050. It is not as strict or encompassing as many nations and climate activists had hoped, but it is a hopeful start to moving towards plans to prevent temperatures from rising more than 1.5 degrees C (2.7 degrees F) and limit other devastating changes in the climate such a sea level rise, storms, droughts, and flooding. Many of these climate impacts will continue to be felt, but this treaty is the first step towards making all nations more accountable.
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Below, I continue with my recap of my activities in Paris during the first week of the COP.
These two days I was involved in the second of the three “Creative Factory” workshops that were organized by Place to B during this first week of COP21:
Also held that week were a Transformational Media Summit –a workshop focused on talking about ecology with media professionals and an Urban Gardening Workshop that crafted some garden boxes out of recycled palettes and installed them around Paris.
The Place to B’s theme for Day 4 was What is the role of technology in changing the world? We need to scale up decarbonization with major Research, Development, Demonstration and Diffusion efforts (RDD&D) to develop low-carbon technologies and ensure their availability and affordability.
And for Day 5 it was How to reconnect with our human nature? What if we remember how it was when we lived in harmony with nature? What if we were reconnected to the earth, the biodiversity, the seasons? How can we recreate such a harmony? Is it possible?
This latter theme fit in well with what we were trying to accomplish in the Balm of Nature workshop I participated in on Wednesday and Thursday. After several engaging and informative presentations by some of our co-pilots (David Holyoake and Chris Aldhous) and a few guest presenters (see photos below), we divided up into three groups. Our mission? To create projects that would reconnect people with nature.
My gang of four (myself plus fellow American Scott Shigeoka along with Eve Demange and William Tan, both from France) decided to create a card game. After a lot of brainstorming and planning we chose to name it WILD – to play with the double entendre of having a wild and crazy time but also to reference wildlife. Initially, we thought of our target audience as youths, ages 15-25 years old. But, after playing a test round with our co-pilots, we realized that everyone who played, from those in their 20’s to 50’s, seriously enjoyed it.
Notes from our brainstorming session on Day 1 of the Balm of Nature workshop
The game has two sets of cards – ones with the red WILD logo list daily rituals or activities that everyone around the world does and the blue ones list natural elements. A dealer turns over one of each card and the teams of two have one minute to share a memory or create a story to tell their partner using those two words. When the time is up a spinner is spun and whomever it points to has to share their story with the group. To spice things up there are several WILD cards in the deck that up the ante on the story-telling (for example: sing your memory or hop on one foot while sharing your story).
Our prototype cards
At the end of the second day, all three groups shared the results of their projects with the rest of the workshop participants (Click on the thumbnails to see the pictures larger):
When it came my team’s turn to share, we decided to vamp it up a bit, so we came dancing in to the song, “Wild Thing” by the Troggs. And since it was happy hour, my team bought a round of beers for all who played. (Note: If all players are of legal drinking age, we recommend making it a drinking game since it helps loosen people up a bit to share.) We still have a few kinks to work out in the game, but based on the response we got it seems to be fulfilling our wildest dreams of helping folks reconnect with nature and create a stronger sense of community.
Some of our workshop co-pilots playing “Wild” during our test run.
My teammates and I decided we liked the physical card game but recognize that if it was an online game it might draw a younger audience and create its own community that way. We envision there being a WILD gamer community and WILD parties. I am bringing our first run of the game home with me to test with my own students and see if our initial target audience of “today’s youth” shares the same enthusiasm for the game that our climate activists had. We were all asked to sign a creative-commons agreement that will allow our projects to be adopted and adapted by anyone who wishes to utilize them. Scott set up a Facebook page for the game so you can find the cards and instructions there! So go get your WILD on!
Outside the climate negotiations pavilion, these pillars featured flags of the nations participating in the COP21 talks.
Although I was glad I was able to participate in the Balm of Nature workshop, I was anxious to go out to Le Bourget to see where the actual COP21 was being held and to check out the “Climate Generations” Pavilion. Since Place to B, where I was staying, was close to Gare du Nord, it made the trip up to Le Bourget very easy: just a short train ride and then another 10 minutes on shuttle buses provided for the COP.
A cool “abre a vent” or wind tree near the entrance to the COP21 buildings. Its “aeroleaves” spin to collect wind which is transformed into electricity. Unlike traditional wind turbines, its operation is completely quiet … and quite mesmerizing too. (Created by New Wind)
The cloudy skies that had been lingering all week had finally cleared, making it a gorgeous day for my expedition. I was hoping I might get to at least peek into the building where the negotiations were happening but as there were staff checking IDs and armed police were all around, I decided this would not be the time to try to push my luck.
A slightly surreal tableaux outside the Climate Generations Pavilion.
All week I felt attuned to the presence of the police in Paris. Even when safely inside Place to B, with some frequency, I heard sirens out on the street. I wasn’t sure if their presence made me feel more safe or more uneasy.
Unlike the building where the negotiations were being held, the Climate Generations Pavilion was free and open to the public. Three exhibition halls housed booths by over 100 organizations such as UNESCO, The Climate Reality Project (for which I am a trained Climate Leader) The Environmental Defense Fund, The Sierra Club, The Global Ocean Forum, and Birdlife International. Many cities from around the world also had booths touting their “green” economies. And, other special-interest groups, such as The Indigenous and Tribal Peoples of Suriname and Women and Gender Constituency, were represented as well.
In between these three main halls were side rooms where presentations, exhibitions, and screenings were held. In the middle of the building, a wide main corridor contained a work area for journalists, a pedal recharging station, a booth that had a twister game set up, and a place to have your picture taken with a styrofoam #COP21 sign.
One of the things on my agenda that day was to stop by the booth run by Ecolise – “a coalition of organizations engaged in promoting and supporting local communities across Europe in their efforts to build pathways to a sustainable future.” I had met some of the Ecolise members at the International Permaculture Conference in the UK that I had attended and exhibited my photographs at in September. It was at the IPCUK that I met Gil Penha-Lopes who along with Tom Henfry were writing a book, Permaculture and Climate Change Adaptation, that they were hoping to have ready for the COP conference. They asked if they could use some of my Witness Tree photos in the book. I was very happy to support their efforts and even more pleased to see the published book available at their booth. It is a well-crafted and informative book featuring over a dozen of my photos!
Although there were many engaging exhibits at Climate Generations, and I met many interesting people, I found the overall atmosphere to be a little flat. I had felt much more energized by the vibe and activities at Place to B. So after several hours of wandering around the pavilion, I decided to head back to Paris. I wanted to rest up before heading out to La Recycleria, a hip hangout spot that was hosting performances by youth activists that evening and on many other nights during the conference weeks.
I knew there was a gathering of Climate Reality Project Leaders back out at the Climate Generations Pavilion, but I was feeling that I had spent too much time indoors and I was eager to walk around the city, see some more climate exhibitions, some art, and meet up with a friend from my travels for a cup of tea too.
My first stop was a special climate exhibit at de L’Hotel de Ville featuring displays about eco-energy projects from around Paris. I had wanted to try to visit some of these sites in person, but with limited time, I figured this was one way to learn about some of these green projects in one location.
Upon seeing this “Generous Tree” (below) I was wishing I had a front yard to “plant” either the “wind tree” I saw at Le Bourget or this one whose solar panels are said to provide me with “wellbeing, connectivity, and conviviality.” I wonder if my co-op board would replace the tree that used to be outside my back window but was felled by a severe storm with one of these? Surely the whole apartment building would benefit.
Next stop was Ice Watch – an installation by artist Olafur EIiasson and geologist Minik Rosing. It was originally scheduled to be at la place de la Republique but was moved to the plaza in front of the Pantheon after the terrorist attacks in November. The artwork consisted of 12 icebergs that had been harvested from the sea outside Nuuk, Greenland and were arranged in a circle like a clock. The installation was created so that the ice would slowly melt as the clock of the climate negotiations was ticking.
Even though I have been to both the Arctic and Antarctic and seen very large icebergs in person, this was still a magical experience. I especially enjoyed watching the expressions of the children as they interacted with the ice and were told some facts about the ice (80 tons of it!) and climate change by some of the Ice Watch guides.
After getting all chilly with the icebergs, I was ready to warm up.
I met my friend 
Kathyrn Hudson for tea at Mariage Freres in the Marais – one of my favorite neighborhoods. If you have ever been to Paris – you know what a treat it is to have high tea there. And, if you haven’t been, you should put it on your list of places to visit when you next visit Paris.
I first met Kathryn in Hawaii when I was traveling during my 2011-12 sabbatical – doing the majority of my work on The Witness Tree. I felt like I had come full-circle in filling her in on what had happened to the project since we’d first met. It was good to reconnect with her after so long and, of course, the tea was delicious.
My last stop for the day was at Le Centre Georges Pompidou. As this was my last day in Paris, I couldn’t leave without sampling at least a bit of its wonderful museums – several of which had special exhibits to coincide with COP21. I had gone to the Palais de Tokyo earlier in the week with my two roommates to see Exit – an amazing video project created by Diller Scofidio + Renfro (and others).
A piece primarily about migration, it was originally created in 2008 but was updated to be screened during the climate conference. I found this video of it online but it doesn’t quite convey the powerful experience I had of sitting in a large, dark, circular room as its astonishing statistics unfurled on the long semi-circular screen – both enveloping and implicating you in some of the sad facts of today’s world.
Although Centre Pompidou had some pieces that were selected to coincide with the COP – such as this installation by Thomas Hirschorn, Outgrowth (2005),
I spent most of my time there looking at a photography exhibit and film about Cuba by Agnes Varda, installations by Dominique Gonzalez Foerster and paintings / drawings by Wilfredo Lam.
My favorite exhibit, however was a long table full of tiny houses made of small colorful candles. Created by Chinese artist Chen Zen, the project entitled Beyond the Vulnerability was created in 1999 with children of the favelas he was visiting in Brazil. Although this exhibit was not one of the ones selected for the COP activities, to me, it has strong references to the climate crisis. 
A statement said that Chen Zen built these to reflect on the “precarious character of favela homes and the shimmering luminosity of Brazilian baroque architecture.” But, I was thinking, that if the government negotiators had not reached a global climate agreement, we may as well all be living in wax houses which would melt with global warming or be knocked down by increasingly severe storms or rising sea levels. We are not “beyond vulnerability” as some Americans and too many of our politicians seem to think.
Chen Zen states about his work: “I’m looking for a language through which I can engage with the source of the Universe and the heart of the human.” I agree with his goals, and I hope that through my on-going work with my Witness Tree project, that I can affect the minds and hearts of my audiences to think about our collective impact on our world.
Each day the creative minds of Place to B asked us to focus on a different message. Sunday’s topic was B the message and asked us to consider: Why doesn’t the environmental message come across? How can we involve citizens in changing the climate? How can we refresh the climate and rewrite the story?” I felt this was a theme that ran throughout much of the week as different groups met in the “Creative Factory” to work on various projects aimed at rewriting the climate narrative to be more effective.
And on this Monday the theme was, How shall we learn from the past? We were asked to take a look at the past, at the history of civilizations, at the meaning of progress, at the way we understand the notion of “transition” and “transformation.” This fit in well as a follow-up to the Transition Paris events I had attended on Saturday.
Every evening, there was Place to Brief – a live web-streamed TV show hosted primarily by Anne Sophie Novel and Joe Ross with help from other “correspondents” and many amazing guests. Since my French is a bit rusty and there were not always enough English-translation headsets to go around, I sometimes missed some of the content, but it was still interesting to sit in on these briefings with my climate colleagues.
I was fascinated by the corps of young female bloggers who, every briefing, sat on the floor against the walls of the room typing away. I admired their ease at doing live posts as the briefings were unfolding. With so much happening every day, I was pleased just to get out a few Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook posts while in Paris. This past week confirmed for me that I subscribe to the “slow blogger” movement.
At two of the TV briefings early in the week, I was in luck as several of the special guests were not only English speakers, but people whose work on climate change I greatly respect: On Monday night, Rob Hopkins of The Transition Network was fittingly brought in for the day’s theme of transitions and transformation. He was paired up with John D. Liu, who has a project entitled the Environmental Education Media Project and Barbara Glowczewski an anthropologist with the French National Scientific Research Centre whose work focuses on the indigenous people of Australia.
The conversations with these guests were mostly upbeat, recognizing the problems but focusing on solutions and the need to move forward. Rather than giving a full play-by-play of the briefing, I will share some of the inspirational comments from each of the guests:
Barbara Glowczewski stressed that we should pay closer attention to indigenous cultures since they have of years of experience that we can learn from. When asked what she thinks is the most fundamental, basic organizing principle for humanity, she replied, “It’s sharing.” In response to the question of what has value in the indigenous communities she studies, she noted that “songs, dance and storytelling are exchanged according to a system of law. You give them to someone else and they can then be transformed from generation to generation.”
John Liu: “In our current economic system, the things that are bought and sold are given a value but our natural resources are not. We’ve devalued the source of life. In order to have another outcome we’re going to have to move to this recognition that things are really happening. We need to understand these things and act on a planetary scale.”
“We can now look and see that climate regulation, fresh water, soil and water with zero pollution, biodiversity – this is where the real value is. And everything that’s ever been made [by humans] is worthless and ends up on the trash heap. If we were to base human economy on ecological function, than all human effort would go toward conserving, protecting, and restoring ecological function on the planet. And that’s what we need to do to have a regulated climate.”
“What is wealth? Wealth is not having more stuff but having more time so we can work less and spend more time with our families and friends. We need more time so we can have lemonade under the fig tree.”
Anne Sophie Novel and Joe Ross (on the left) listening to John D. Liu speak with Rob Hopkins at his side.
Rob Hopkins: “Early on [when starting the Transition movement] one of the most patronizing things someone said to me was ‘ Well you aren’t going to change very much with just a few community gardens.’” [Note: there are now over 1,000 Transition Initiatives worldwide.] We chose the word transition because we need to think about getting from where we are to where we need to be. Like a good permaculture design project, we design a process that removes as many obstacles as possible so that people can get the work done that they want to.
In response to the question: “ How do you go about empowering people?” Rob responded: “One way is that we recognize that as climate activists that we don’t just tell people about how terrible climate change is without giving them ideas of how to take a part in making things better…If you collapse people’s world view you have to stick around to help them pick up the pieces. We try to invite people to step into something and one of the ways [we do this] is by telling them stories about people like themselves.” [He then shared a couple stories from his new book 21 Stories of Transition which I had heard even more highlights from on Saturday night at a Transition Paris event.)
Rob Hopkins showcasing local currencies from Transition Network towns in the UK. Yes, that is David Bowie on the Brixton 10 pound note.
“We used to say that Transition was a response to the energy crisis, to climate change, to the economy. But now we say, Transition is a movement of people who are re-imagining and rebuilding the world. And you don’t always need to start with a problem up front, because what they are doing is sufficiently fantastic all over the world.”
And I have to agree. Despite all the terrible stories I heard while photographing the effects of climate change around the world for The Witness Tree, again and again, I was buoyed by tales of individuals taking steps to better their local world and communities coming together to problem-solve. I hope that our leaders who are making the decisions out at the COP listen to the stories that their delegates have to tell. I am sure they are fantastic.
In the afternoon I went to Gaîté lyrique for an ARTCOP21 roundtable discussion entitled: Culture and the Arts Engage with the Climate Challenge for COP21. The event was co-sponsored by COAL and was part of the opening day of the Summit of Creatives – “an opportunity to review the involvement of the cultural industry and inspire artists to get involved and put culture on the agenda of the negotiations.”
There were eight panelists including poet Kathy Jetnil-Kijiner from the Marshall Islands, Kevin Buckland from 350.org, American climatologist Cynthia Rosenzweig, and Teresa Borasino, Head of the festival Futuro Caliente in Peru (which took place during COP20 in Lima). The discussion revolved around how the cultural industry has had, and can continue to have, an impact on societal transformation.
Some of the panelists, from left to right: Cynthia Rosenzweig, Kathy Jetnil-Kijiner, Anne-Marie Melster, and architect Anna Heringer.
I was pleased to see Cynthia Rosenzweig, a senior research scientist at NASA’s Goddard Institute for Space Studies, included in this diverse group as I feel it is very important to bring artists and scientists together to help get across the climate message. I had first met Cynthia last June at a Climate sHeros event sponsored by The Human Impacts Institute in New York City and was struck by her friendliness. In this panel discussion, both her warmth and knowledge were apparent. She brought up the important link between science and art and acknowledged, “artists have been talking about ‘transformation’ for awhile and scientists are only now just catching on.” She noted her recent collaboration with Australian visual artist Shaun Gladwell: A Climate Change Hip-Pop Opera, as an example of how artists and scientists can intertwine their different languages to create a new language.
One of the other panelists, Anne-Marie Melster, co-founder and head of ARTPORT_making waves, was critical of the fact that officials at the COP made it very hard for artists to get involved with the actual conference. “You have to be connected with an NGO in order to get in…They think art is something that is just in museums. They live in their U.N box and don’t look outside of it.” Knowing I would not be able to get in to hear the actual COP negotiations was something that had originally deterred me from planning to come to Paris. But once I realized how many artists were going to be there making their voices heard through other activities, I was convinced it would be a worthwhile expedition. Ms. Melster was not completely negative. She ended by saying: “Don’t blame the people who don’t know about the arts. We can try to inspire them.”
I know I was inspired by this panel discussion and learned about some very engaging art projects including Artport and one called “The Blackmarket for Useful Knowledge and Non-Knowledge.” First started in 2005 by, Hannah Hurtzig, a Berlin-based curator and dramaturge, these one-night events are structured so that visitors can book 30-minute sessions with “experts” of their choosing (“natural scientists, craftsmen, artists, philosophers, and neighbors”) allowing them to visit a variety of people and topics during the evening. There was one held in Paris, on November 21st, as part of ARTCOP21. This 18th edition of the Blackmarket exchange and the first one to be held in France, asked visitors to bring a gift to give to the experts they wished to speak with instead of the usual symbolic fee of 1 euro. Subtitled: On Becoming Earthlings, several dozen experts met with visitors at the Musée de l’Homme and discussed “what does it mean to live in the Anthropocene?” I really wish I could have attended this event but even if the topic is not focused on the climate, I hope the Blackmarket makes it to New York one day soon.
One of the creative organizers of Place to B drawing a map of the world on the wall.
Meanwhile back at Place to B, my home away from home for the week, the topic for the day was: How can scientists talk about climate change differently? A new social contract between scientists and society is needed. Its purpose? Produce more engagement with climate policies.
At the Place to Brief live TV show that night the featured guests were Naomi Klein – author of This Changes Everything and scientist James Hansen whose book, Storms of My Grandchildren, along with Bill McKibben’s The End of Nature and Eaarth provided some of the early inspiration for my Witness Tree project. Also on the docket were Nicolas Hulot, Didier Pourquery, Ghislain Bardout, and opera singer Barbara Hendricks.
Naomi Klein and Nicolas Hulot.
Each of these guests were very emphatic about the fact that things need to change now. We must stop burning fossil fuels – not only at the rate that we currently are – but at an even more reduced rate than has been proposed by many of the countries at COP21. The window of time that we used to talk about as our safety net (IE – we have until 2050 to reduce emissions) has closed in on us. If we want to reduce the warming to a maximum of 2 degrees Celcius (3.6 degrees Fahrenheit) as scientists have has stated is the only way to keep things in check, we must sharply curb emissions. Hansen, in a slideshow presentation entitled: Climate (In)Justice and Governmental (Dis)Honesty argued that at this point we don’t need “cap and trade” but an actual carbon tax to be levied against the oil, gas and coal companies.
Hansen worked for NASA for 46 years before retiring in 2013 to be able to become a more vocal climate activist. “As a government employee, you can’t testify against the government,” he said in an interview with the New York Times. I had already been planning to hear him give a presentation later this month back in New York, so it was a treat to get to meet him (albeit briefly) that night at Place to B even though it turned out to not be my only encounter with him during the week.
Day 2: Sunday – November 29th
I learned that in lieu of the Climate March, which had been cancelled by city officials after the ISOL attacks on Paris on November 13th, there was going to be a “Human Chain” of climate activists this morning. On a website I found that listed the event, it stated that the chain would begin at 1 but when I arrived around 12:15 at the end of Le Boulevard Voltaire, the chain was already mostly broken up having actually started around 11:30. (Apparently organizers did this to fool the police.) But many people lingered still – some chanting, others holding signs, while a group of angelic “climate guardians” from Australia floated silently through the crowd.
Some climate monsters?
I walked down Le Boulevard Voltaire as far as the Bataclan theater, the site of the worst massacre. Police had barricaded off the street in front of the club preventing anyone from getting too close, but flowers, letters, poems, photographs, and candles adorned a fence of the park opposite it. The band that had been playing that night – Eagles of Death Metal returned there to play last night (December 8th) after being invited to perform with U2 in a show of solidarity.
The Bataclan Theater
Another memorial near the Bataclan that marked a street corner where more killings occured.
Although I missed the actual “Human Chain” I was touched by this drawing whose words translate to: “We are the strongest”
The mood here was very somber, reminding me of the days after 9/11 so I decided to turn around and follow the crowd back to Place de la République where I knew there was another memorial, but where I sensed the spirit of the group would be more hope-filled. And it was. I spent time some time talking with some of those gathered: artists, activists, moms, kids, and monks. Most everyone was there in support of the climate talks. I was enchanted by a twosome that had umbrellas decorated with crocheted flowers attached to their bikes. I stopped them to ask about their project: Faites une fleur … au climat.
Sara (left) and Fabienne
Fabienne told me that she and Sara (plus another partner who could not be there that day) came up with the idea of asking people to crochet simple flowers from recycled yarn in order to raise awareness about climate change. I told her about a similar stitching project I was thinking about and we agreed that we should try to stay in touch and do something “across the ocean” that would connect our ideas and projects. She expressed concern over the ISOL attacks but seemed hopeful that something positive would come out of the COP21.
Elsewhere at République, dozens of pairs shoes that had been neatly placed out earlier in the day to represent those who could not/would not march were now gathered in smaller batches around the plaza. (Some estimates state that there were over 10,000 pairs laid out at the start of the day.) Someone had lined several pairs up in the street and some of these shoes were now getting run over by cars that were trying to get through the activists
who were now dancing and singing in the street.
I thought it was a bit ironic that this car had the words – “Free like the air” painted on its side although I did not catch to what it was alluding.
Activists with signs that read ” State of Climate Emergency” and “Heads of State – Act for the Climate”
The memorial at Place de la Republique
Although I saw that police and their vehicles were stationed at the ends of the roads that led into the square, the atmosphere remained more joyous than boisterous for another hour or so. I noticed some protesters coming down one side street and as I went to photograph them, they covered their faces with scarves; they seemed of a different ilk than the climate activists that I’d been chatting with.
Around 2:30 as I was starting to head back to my hostel, I saw the police moving in closer to the crowd followed by their vans. I could tell things were going to take a turn and decided to keep walking. When I searched the news an hour later I saw that there had been clashes with the police. I was sorry to hear about the conflicts but at least pleased to see that French President François Hollande did not blame us climate activists. Some locals told me that the people I saw covering their faces were most likely there to protest the “police state” that had been enforced after the ISOL attacks.
The police and some Sunday shoppers who seemed oblivious to what was happening across the road in the plaza.
That evening at Place to B, the hostel where I was staying, more climate activists had arrived and were meeting and greeting one another over beer and wine and some live music. This hostel was going to be our home and resource center for the next week (or two weeks for some). I formed a quick kinship with my two roommates: Kelly, a professor of analytic psychology from Illinois, who was in Paris to assist in the making of a documentary film about a climate activist, and Lavinia from Romania, who is getting her masters in Environmental Philosophy at Keele University in England. Although we all had different schedules during the week, it was encouraging to end each day sharing stories of our daily experiences and hopes for the coming weeks of the COP.
Six months ago when I mentioned I was planning to go to Paris for COP21, many people had no idea what I was talking about (“You are going to a conference about cops?” Cops is American slang for the police). A month ago when I told people I was going to the 21st Conference of Parties climate negotiations most had now heard of the COP, but the response was one of envy that I would visiting the “City of Light.” But after November 13th, when I told people I was traveling to Paris soon, many expressed concern and asked if I was still going.
The ISOL attacks around Paris on November 13th were senseless and have left many people in shock. There has also been a terrible backlash against Muslims and refugees that I find mind-boggling. Thus, I felt it was even more important to come to Paris with climate activists from around the world who are committed to work together, in peace, over an issue that is affecting all of us, albeit some more than others. By the very nature of climate change, no one country or culture will be left untouched, so we must work as a collective whole to try to change the course of our future.
As an artist, since I did not have any affiliation with an NGO, I did not have access to the actual negotiations in Le Bourget, a town just outside of Paris. In fact, when I arrived in Paris, I learned there are many who were originally granted permission to be observers, but since the attacks, those numbers were drastically cut back. Apparently cIty officials want to keep a cap on how many people will be congregating for the talks. I presume this is to limit the chances of another terrorist attack, but it is a shame that so many stakeholders with great knowledge and experience will not get to directly be a part of these talks. I heard that one NGO that had planned to bring 70 delegates had their number cut to just 14!
The COP21 meetings are still going on in Paris until the end of this week and I wish I could have stayed until the end. Even without having access to the inner “blue” circle of negotiations (a designation defined by a blue lanyard on one’s name tag) there were so many other related events that I would have liked to participate in. Still, in the time I was there, I met many concerned citizens, climate activists, and even a scientist I greatly admire, that it felt well worth what seemed like a quick visit. Since I had so little downtime while I was there, I just took notes and photos and decided to write up fuller posts highlighting each day’s events and will publish them over the next week.
For me, going to Paris feels like an apt culmination to my Witness Tree project. Although I will continue to document the effects of climate change, I have grown increasingly more interested in focusing on community-based solutions than the problems. My new project is focusing on permaculture and The Transition Network (TNT) and I will write more about it as the project progresses.
Day 1 – Saturday November, 28, 2015
With that project in mind, it seemed fitting that soon after arriving I ran into Albert Bates, an American permaculture instructor who invited me to join him at an event hosted by the group Transition Paris. I had met Albert in September at the International Permaculture Conference in the UK (IPCUK) where I exhibited photographs from my Witness Tree project. In Paris we were both staying at Place to B – a headquarters of sorts for over 400 climate activists from around the world. (more on this in future posts)
Thomas Munier, one of the local Transition organizers
The Transition Paris event was being held in a former electrical distribution facility that was being used as studios by a group of artists. It was a wonderful space both inside and out. One of the artists welcomed us and mentioned that they would be losing the space at the end of the year as it was going to be turned into a movie theater. It seemed a shame since the artists did not keep this cool space to themselves but often let groups like the Paris Transition Network use it for community-based events. 
This French branch of TNT had planned a day of presentations and workshops around such topics as Recycle with Creativity, Transition in Big Cities, and Creating Better Infographics. The crowd was a mix of young and old, ex-pats and native Frenchmen and women.
One of the younger participants who was doing his own “research” while I chatted with his mother Alice Leroy.
Most of the workshops were being conducted in French so I chose to sit in on one about Infographics which was being facilitated by a British woman.
The Infographics workshop with Albert Bates in the foreground.
The highlight of the evening was a presentation by Rob Hopkins, a professor of permaculture who helped initiate the first Transition Town in Totnes, a community of 8,000 in Devon, UK. I had first met Rob at the IPCUK and spoken with him again when I visited Totnes after the September conference. Rob was in Paris to promote his new book, 21 Stories of Transition: How a movement of communities is coming together to reimagine and rebuild our world.
Etienne Lecomte and English translator Corinne, introducing Rob Hopkins. Both are very active in planning Transition events in Paris
Rob Hopkins presenting one of the 21 stories to a full house.
Rob was joined by some of the people whose communities were featured in the book including Jeanne-Claude Mensch, the mayor of Ungersheim, a village in the Alsace region of France, and a couple from Belgium (left) who helped plant community gardens on concrete blockades (shown on the screen behind them) that had been installed to cut back on traffic in the red light district.
Although my jet-lag crept up on me and I was unable to stay for the closing party of the Transition event I was excited to meet so many locals who were already involved in community projects and, like me, were hoping that COP21 would yield some concrete results and no blockades at the negotiations.
I am very pleased to announce that my new website for The Witness Tree project is live! I will be rolling out the 12 chapter portfolios – three at a time – over the coming weeks/ months. I want visitors to have the time to absorb the essays, photos and information in each chapter before I introduce new work. Here is a screen grab of how the whole site will look once completed:
For now, please spend time looking over the chapters on WHY / ICE / FIRE as well as the MAP that shows all the places I have visited and documented the effects of climate change. I also encourage you to read my recent NEWS and check our the SUPPORT and GET INVOLVED pages too.
I could not have made this website without the help of my friend Tim Donahue and his help in writing the essays and my web designers – Roman Jaster and Nicole Jaffee of Yay Brigade!
I look forward to hearing your comments about the site and my work.
I had taken a break from writing on this blog while organizing this website but now that it is nearing completion, I hope to be making more blog posts about this project as well as current issues surrounding climate change.
One morning a few years ago while I was visiting my parents in Cleveland for the holidays, my father pointed to a newspaper picture taken in Germany of snow piled high on the sides of a road after a major snowstorm. “So, is that an example of global warming?” he asked. “No, it’s an example of climate change,” I replied.
On Tuesday when most of NYC awoke to only a few inches of snow but closed roads, subways, and schools. people were joking about the Snowpocalypse that never came. Well, it may not have hit us here in the city, but out on Long Island where I teach, especially on the East End, residents were socked in with over 2 feet of snow and blinding driving conditions. I was happy (as were my students) that classes were cancelled.
Parts of Massachusetts were hit even harder. Some areas got over 3 feet of snow and the entire island of Nantucket lost power. Most homes had no electricity for more than two days. Along with the snow came 76 mile an hour winds and flooding of the downtown streets. Not your average Nor’easter of days of old.
So, no, this is not exactly an example of “global warming,” but it is an example of our changing climate, and many of these changes are due to warming temperatures, both air and sea. Warm air holds more moisture than cold air, making downpours, whether of rain or snow, potentially more disastrous. Also, higher sea levels will add to more flooding during these storms, even in the winter months.
Although not every storm can be tied directly to climate change, with a warmer world we can expect (as we are already witnessing) more extreme storms of all kinds: superstorms, hurricanes, cyclones, blizzards, and likely tornadoes too. Climate scientists, like Kevin Trenberth, at the National Center for Atmospheric Research are finding that even though winters are getting shorter, heavy snowstorms are going to be more extreme and more common. This article in The Guardian helps explain why in further detail.
When I woke up Tuesday morning it was still snowing so I decided to go out and investigate my Brooklyn neighborhood with my camera. The streets were quiet but not completely empty. I saw a guy clearing his block’s sidewalks with a snow-blower,
three day-laborers looking for driveways to shovel and cars to dig out,
a few dedicated joggers in Prospect Park,
a lone little snowman,
and several pre-teens heading out to go sledding.
Lachlan, Nate, and Henry
I asked them if they were learning about climate change in school to which they replied yes. Lochlan said that he’d even attended the NYC Climate March last September for which I gave him a high-five. I asked him what concerns he had about how global warming could affect his world. “Well, I love sledding, so it would be bad if there weren’t a lot of snow in the future to play in.”
I also ran into a few folks just out enjoying the beauty of it all. I asked this rosy-cheeked group if I could take their picture and mentioned that I was doing a project about climate change.
from left to right: Paul Younger holding his son Wyatt, Meredith, his wife holding Emmett, and his sister Alyssa.
When I emailed Meredith copies of these pictures, I asked her what her thoughts on climate change were to which she replied,
Climate change should be getting all of our focus right now. It is truly terrifying, and any news of fossil fuel development is distressing. I want to see more reporting on climate change in the media, and more research into renewable energy sources, particularly solar. Surely the sun has enough power to satisfy our puny human energy needs here on earth!
I couldn’t have said it better myself. And like Lochlan and his pals, I agree: I like snow, to play in, photograph, and because it’s a part of our natural climate. It also provides opportunities for some sweet cuddling. Who wants to lose that?
I am generally not a big fan of making New Year’s resolutions, but the more I learn about climate change, the more I’ve been trying to cut back on my carbon footprint. Each year (and not necessarily starting on New Year’s Day) I have focused on just one thing I can do to reduce my environmental footprint. The first thing I focused on after starting my research for The Witness Tree in 2010 was my driving. I teach on Long Island but live in Brooklyn. For the first few years at my job, I commuted 60 miles a day (return-trip), 4 days a week, 9 months out of the year. This equaled driving almost 9000 miles a year – just for my job. Some days I took the LIRR (Long Island Railroad), but getting to and from the campus was problematic and frustrating and this deterred me from taking the train. Early on in my research I had learned that one gallon of gasoline produces 19.64 pounds of carbon dioxide (diesel produces 22.38 lbs.) so I was determined to find a way to cut back on my driving. I bought myself a second, used bike for $25 which I keep at the train station in Long Island. (I keep my other 25-year-old bike in Brooklyn to use for general usage.) It’s not a pretty bike, thus no one bothers to steal it, but it gets me where I need to go. And since global warming has meant milder winters (this year being the exception) I have been able to ride nearly every day.
My commuting now takes longer (about 1:45 hour each way vs 1 hour for driving) but I am much happier knowing I have significantly cut back on my carbon footprint. I actually prefer the train as I can read, answer emails, grade student projects, or just look at the passing landscape. I am also happy to be getting in a little exercise. It’s only about a 15-20 minute ride each way but that’s more exercise than I got sitting in my car. I don’t claim to be a saint. I still have my car which I sometimes use for other purposes – transporting large artwork, getting to sites to photograph for my project or freelance jobs, and occasional weekend escapes. But I have cut back my usage by at least 85%. I feel pretty damn good about that.
An unexpected side-benefit is that I have inspired some of the students. One student saw me bringing my bike into my office one rainy day and asked incredulously, “You rode your bike to school?” I explained how it’s only part of my commute, that I don’t ride all the way from Brooklyn. “That’s cool,” she said. “And you’re a professor?” I nodded. “That’s really cool!” she added. “Thanks. I think it is too.” In the four years I have ridden my bike to school I have noticed more and more bikes locked up along the railing where I often put mine. Although I don’t know if I’ve influenced any of those riders, it’s nice to know more people are joining me. Will you?
It is often said that one person can’t make a difference, but I believe otherwise. Recently I picked up a book of essays about the influence of Rachel Carson. I have enjoyed reading about her life and her influence on the environmental movement but it made me realize I never read her seminal book Silent Spring. Published in 1962, it drew attention to the harmful use of pesticides, primarily DDT. She is often credited with starting the modern environmental movement and although DDT was not banned until 1972, her book and subsequent appearance in Congress clearly brought needed attention to a terrible matter.
Although I am no Rachel Carson, I do have a voice and am also using my camera to draw attention to the critical issue of global climate change. So my first “resolution” or goal of this year is to read Silent Spring. And the second is to start sharing more of what I have learned about climate change on this blog and via more presentations with school and community groups. I want to share more of the stories I’ve collected from the people I have interviewed and photographed. And, as clichéd as it sounds, every journey does begin with a single step. I encourage you to think about what you can do this week, this month, this year to lower your own carbon footprint.
Happy New Year!
Inspired by Maya Lin’s powerful project What is Missing (about species extinction) and the upcoming People’s Climate March I decided to begin this quick portrait project while so many people from around the world are gathered in NYC for the March. I asked people I met on the street or at climate events to finish the phrase… “Don’t let climate change take away….” Some people responded right away. Others wanted some time to think about their answers. Miriam and her three sons (from Kuwait) were my first participants. They had just attended a presentation I gave as part of the Climate Convergence conference. Surrounded by her sons, she knew immediately her greatest concern.
With this audience-engagment project, I am making climate change more personal by asking people to consider the things they cherish that may disappear if climate change continues unabated. Almost everyone I’ve approached has agreed to participate. Only a few people said “I don’t think I have been affected yet.” I am hoping this week’s events will help them realize that what is happening in the Arctic and elsewhere is already affecting them.
I will be adding more portraits as the project progresses. See the Climate Portraits tab above for more images. If you want to be included in this project – just show up for my Witness Tree performance in Tompkins Square Park on 9/28 from 1 – 4pm.
Last week I wrote about how rising sea levels are affecting low-lying nations such as the Kingdom of Tonga. Six weeks later, I was in Thailand primarily to photograph the effects of the flooding in the Fall of 2011, but while there I also learned from a new friend about how sea level rise is affecting some communities near Bangkok.
Since I was mid-way on my around-the-world journey, I decided it would be a good time to take a break from working and so went on a week-long Buddhist meditation retreat with my new German friend Nathalie. I did not quite reach nirvana but it was a welcome respite from work (I only brought a point-and-shoot), I tried some new Thai food, I learned more about Buddhism and meditation, and best of all, I made several new friends.
Natalie mediating on our retreat.
One of whom, Bisidth, was very eager to help me with my project. A couple of days after the retreat he emailed about Ban Khun Samut Chin (บ้านขุนสมุทรจีน), a small fishing village on the Gulf of Thailand that he remembered learning about on a TV show. He sent me a link to the show and even though it was all in Thai I got the gist of it: This small village was being inundated by sea level rise. He offered to take me there so we quickly planned a weekend outing.
Some of the monks heading out onto a canal on a longboat.
Even though it is only about 50 km southwest of Bangkok, Khun Samut Chin felt much more remote. Getting there itself was an adventure. Bisdith picked me up and after an hour’s drive through snarled Bangkok traffic we reached a small town where we met another new friend from the retreat, Sutanit (who charmingly goes by her chosen English name, Dear, and Bongkot, Bisdith’s friend. We stopped to have lunch with some of the monks from the Khun Samut Chin temple then drove a bit farther and got on a longboat for a 15 minute ride through several canals. These canals are the primary “roadways” for the people in these seaside communities in the Laem Fapha area of Samut Prakan Province. We were dropped off at a pier where we each got a community-shared bicycle and rode another 10 minutes down a concrete walkway. We parked the bikes under a shelter and then walked another 5-10 minutes over a series of dirt paths, wooden walkways, and planks to arrive in the heart of the village.
Bisdith riding a bike (too small for his tall frame) down one of the walkways into the village.
The main entrance into the center of the village over a wooden walkway. A new community center is being built on the left.
Bisidth, myself, Bongot, Dear, and the village chief, Samorn Khengsamut (seated).
We were greeted by several dogs, the village chief Samorn Khengsamut, and other local residents who were busy packing shrimp and shrimp paste into bags to sell to local communities. Formerly populated by the Chinese, it is very connected to its roots. They have a small museum with old coins, pottery, and other Chinese artifacts found on their grounds. Mrs. Samorn showed us a 2003 newspaper article stating that the villagers were hoping to build a museum to house these treasures that were scattered among various households. I was glad to see that they achieved that goal. It’s a sweet little museum jam-packed with curiosities.
Inside the museum housing Chinese artifacts
Pieces of Chinese pottery.
Since shrimp and cockles are the primary source of income for this village, much of the town is made up of large plots of water where this seafood is harvested. But not all the surrounding water is a welcome presence.
Some of the villagers harvesting cockles behind our hut. I felt like I had front row seats to some of the best action in town.
A bowl of fresh-caught cockles.
A wooden walkway over one of the shrimp plots photographed at dusk.
In the past fifty years, the villagers have had to relocate their homes and school four or five times due to rising sea levels and the resulting soil erosion. The only building that has not been moved is the temple. The monks refuse to move it. To try to protect it (and other small temples still being constructed) they have installed concrete triangular pillars to break the surf as well as a sea wall. I find this a rather bold move since in their current temple, which has been flooded several times, they have had to raise the floor 5-6 feet to be able to still use the temple for prayers. I noticed there are places where the power of the surf is already breaking through their new sea wall. They must have a lot of faith to believe that it will hold and not be “taken” by the sea the way Sonny’s bench in Tonga was.
One of the many village dogs that acted as my guide down the walkway to the temple.
The temple in Khun Samut Chin shows water damage along the windows from rising sea levels. The temple is now separated from the rest of the village buildings that have relocated inland several times. To get to the temple one must walk or ride a bike down these concrete walkways. The Gulf of Thailand can be seen in the background.
One of the monks sitting in a doorway on the raised floor of the temple looking at a photo of it being flooded during a recent storm.
Samut Khun Chun is a lovely village with an interesting history, but the chief is worried about their future. There is not much solid land left in this area on which to relocate if the seas keep rising and they need to move yet again. Some of the residents are already living on land they do not own. Student volunteers have come in and planted mangrove trees to try to curb the erosion (like in Tonga) but the sea is rising faster than the trees can grow. The school has had to be rebuilt several times. From their new pier, one of the monks pointed out one of its earlier locations to us in the midst of the ocean. All that was left was a concrete block barely visible in the waves. More apparent are the old power lines that used to run along the main road of the village. Now they look like toothpicks sticking out of the water.
Sea barriers that were put in several years ago to try “break” the power of the surf and protect the area where the temple is situated. In the distance (on the left) can be seen the old telephone poles that used to mark the main road.
The new sea wall already showing signs of being worn away by the surf.
And to the right, one of the new smaller temples being constructed outside this sea wall but behind the concrete breakwater pillars.
At twilight, a monk mediates on their new pier behind the breakwater. Here too, the old power lines are visible in the distance.
The village is trying to court tourists to bring in some extra income and to raise awareness of their plight.The chief has assembled an array of pictures and documents (many enlarged and neatly laminated) that she eagerly shares with visitors. They have built a small two-bedroom hut on stilts specifically for weekend tourists. Included in the price are three meals a day that included fresh crab, dried fish, and some of their homemade shrimp paste. All the food was delicious and the villagers were very friendly. I had learned a few words of Thai by this point but still had to rely on Bisdith and Dear to translate for me.
Our little two bedroom hut on stilts.
Our dinner with very locally sourced food. Since there is no refrigeration, most of the fish is dried.
A couple we met on one of the paths.
The chief with her assortment of pictures, maps and diagrams explaining how rising sea levels are threatening their village.
A display showing how much the sea has risen over the last 40 years. The small red box marks the site of the temple. The picture on the left was taken in the early 1970’s, when the temple was still surrounded by land, the middle one is from the mid-90’s and the last one taken in the last several years. (Double-click on this or any of the photos in these blog posts to see the images larger.)
I would highly recommend a visit here except for one thing: the startling 5 AM wake-up call of the Army radio station over the loudspeaker which was right next to our hut. I told Bisidith he might want to suggest to the chief that this might not be the desired wake-up call of most tourists. Once I had wiped the sleep out of my eyes, I found it to be kind of funny. Soon the radio announcer and singers were joined by the morning birds, a rainstorm and a proper wake-up call of a rooster.
On the way back to Bangkok, Bisidith took me by Bang Pu, a seaside park run by the Royal Thai Army known for its Sunday ballroom dancing and seafood restaurant. I was excited to see the dancing, but the main reason Bisidth brought me there was to show me how the Army, along with the World Wildlife Fund of Thailand, have planted mangroves to try to break the force of the waves before they hit the land. Together these two groups have created the Bang Pu Nature Education Centre (BNEC) to educate the public on the need for environmental conservation.
Mangroves planted along the coast of Bang Pu to slow down the surf of the rising sea.
It was a stormy day when we were there and I am not sure if it was high tide, but the water was hitting the buildings and their arboreal “breakwater” with a lot of force. Like in Tonga, the mangroves were put in to try to protect the shore but since the ballroom and restaurant are built out onto a pier there is nothing protecting them from the rising seas. Another concern is storm surges which can be more severe as sea levels rise. In recent years when there is news that a storm surge might sweep up the Gulf of Thailand, attendance drops significantly at this seaside resort, hurting business. Many tourist destinations worldwide are located by the sea and will likely be the first to be able to tell you about the very real threat of sea level rise.
Waves crashing up alongside the Bang Pu seafood restaurant.
Another place from my travels abroad that bears a brief mention in this post is Lake Cathie (pronounced – Cat-eye) in Australia. When I was in Sydney my friend Craig showed me a newspaper article on this quaint seaside town where the residents of Illaroo Road had just been informed that they were part of a “planned retreat” due to the threat rising sea levels, This means homeowners will be expected to sell their houses to the Council rather than another homeowner.
The article on Illaroo Road in Lake Cathie, Australia.
Since I was already planning to drive up the coast from Sydney to Byron Bay my friend Nathalie and I made a detour to Lake Cathie. It was blustery day threatening rain but we discovered two of the article’s featured homeowners, Russell and Anne Secomb, out working in their yard. I told them I had seen the recent article in The Australian and asked what were their thoughts on climate change. “The climate is always changing,” Russell said. “Always has, always will.” He added that they, along with the other residents, were going to fight the Council’s proposed plan.
Russell Secomb working in his yard.
Even though Ilaroo Road lies 7 meters above the current mean sea level, the Council stated it is more concerned about erosion than rising seas. But now, after Hurricane Sandy and seeing what the combination of sea level rise and storm surge can do to oceanfront property, I will be interested to keep an eye on what happens in Lake Cathie in the coming years.
The Witness Tree by Carolyn Monastra 