All We Can Save: Truth, Courage, and Solutions for the Climate Crisis

The poem’s speaker describes a man on the TV telling viewers to “Go.” A news anchor or weatherman is predicting a catastrophic weather event. He urges people to leave behind their belongings, which the narrator finds hard to comprehend, saying, “our bodies are just our bodies, tied to what we know” (156). Still, the people will go because the man on TV says so.

Bavishi’s essay describes her thoughts while in labor at a New York City hospital. It was a rainy day and there had been flooding in the lower-lying parts of the city. She thinks about how far we have to go to adapt to climate change and the challenges it presents to our day-to-day lives. Bavishi highlights three coastal cities—New Orleans, Honolulu, and New York City—whose infrastructures need to change in order to survive climate change.

In 2005, Hurricane Katrina demolished the levees surrounding New Orleans and caused 80% of the city to flood. More than 1,000 people lost their lives, and one month after the crisis, 600,000 households were still displaced. Over the years, engineers have developed drainage systems and levees to help with flooding in New Orleans, yet these same “solutions” are contributing to the sinking and settling of the land, which will cause more damage when flooding occurs. Pumping water out of New Orleans prevents the Mississippi River from delivering important materials to coastal wetlands that are barriers during storms. Since 1932, hundreds of miles of coastal land have disappeared, and if nothing changes, another 1,800 miles will be gone by 2060 (158).

Four and a half months after Hurricane Katrina, the mayor proposed a plan for recovery for the city. The commission came up with the “green dot” map; green dots indicated low-lying areas that were most susceptible to flooding. The idea was to turn these green dot areas into wetlands, parks, or open spaces, but this upset many of the people whose homes and communities resided there. These were long-standing, predominately African American communities that had been displaced since the storm and would continue to be displaced if this green dot map plan continued.

Ultimately, the mayor rejected the recommendation. This did not mean that these “green dot” neighborhoods were safe to live in, but people would be able to return to their communities and rebuild. Scientifically, the best plan would have been to abandon entire neighborhoods, but socially, the best option was for people to return to their neighborhoods and communities while the city built adequate levees. New Orleans adopted the latter strategy, but shortly after, the US Army Corps of Engineers revealed that due to sea level rise, the levees would not adequately protect the city from a major storm by as early as 2023 (159). Bavishi writes that we must consider both scientific data and social values—particularly the perspectives of marginalized communities—when making plans for a city.

In 2014, Honolulu was at risk of experiencing back-to-back hurricanes, and residents of the island were asked to have two weeks of food prepared in case the storms affected food supply chains. Bavishi was living on Honolulu at the time, leading an organization “focused on reducing risk from disasters across the Asia-Pacific region” (160). Both hurricanes ultimately missed the island, but they presented a reminder of the threats of climate change. The conversation turned to one economic priority—Waikiki Beach, a profitable tourist destination. This is a vulnerable spot due to sea level rise and chronic flooding. Waikiki’s beaches are getting smaller and smaller over time due to erosion, which development too close to the natural shoreline has facilitated. Each potential solution had drawbacks: Seawalls would protect private property but erode the beach even more; rock jetties would protect the beach but ruin the waves that surfers expect. In the long term, it’s possible that none of the proposed options would make much difference, but something needed to be done in the short term, so a sandback groin was implemented to help slow down an erosion hotspot on the beach.

In New York City in 2012, Hurricane Sandy destroyed thousands of buildings, caused billions of dollars in damage, and killed 44 New Yorkers. The Lower East Side was particularly affected; lower-income communities, all racially and linguistically diverse, lost power, and grocery stores, subways, and pharmacies were closed for days due to flooding. Community-based organizations stepped in and provided aid and assistance to the people in their neighborhoods. The East Side Coastal Resiliency Project brought together community members and designers to come up with solutions to prevent future flooding. Their main project was East River Park, which was very susceptible to flooding and sea level rise; they decided to raise it eight feet. Bavishi views this project as a great collaboration between residents of an area and landscape designers, who worked together to create an enjoyable space for a community while also protecting their land. Climate change solutions can build rich communities.

Sturgeon notes that more than 90% of humans spend their time inside and that in the United States, 40% of energy goes to buildings, with most of that energy coming from fossil fuels (166). Our current buildings require a ton of energy both to build and maintain. Windows that don’t open, lack of natural light, and the use of materials from around the world all increase carbon emissions.

Sturgeon proposes creating buildings with the climate, ecology, and community of its location in mind. This will reduce the amount of energy used for heating and cooling and would be a return to the way homes were built in the past, when, “buildings were an expression of their people and unique to their place” (167). This way of thinking is called “biophilic design.” Buildings in the future will rely on natural ventilation for heating and cooling, the line between indoors and outdoors will disappear, and carbon emissions will drop.

One example of biophilic design is a cultural center for the New Zealand Māori people called Te Kura Whare. The building uses natural materials from the land; the design mimics the landscape, and natural ventilation allows for wind and sound to travel in and out freely.

This poem describes the shallowest snow on record while the speaker gathers Labrador Tea. She pins the plant between her teeth and tongue, warming the leaves so that the oil becomes fragrant in her mouth. The rising sea levels threaten the shore on which she lives, but those living in the city find it hard to conceive of anything but a system and a world of men.

Regine Clément’s essay suggests that Americans need to rethink the “relationship among our economy, social progress, and ecological systems’’ (171). A mindset of “systemic transformation” encourages leaving behind unsustainable practices that have supported economic growth and moving to practices that value a “sustainable economic system” and allow us to “maintain a livable climate” (171). She cites Polish revolutionary Rosa Luxemburg, who critiques capitalism as an “inherently destructive system” (172). Climate change is a manifestation of this destruction. Effective climate solutions require money: We will need to reallocate trillions of dollars to see significant change in our climate situation.

Clement writes that the private capital of high-net-worth families is a good place to start. If a group of millionaires and billionaires invest in the decarbonization of the economy, significant changes can occur. Clement runs the network named CREO, which works with family offices to transform money into climate solutions (172). By educating investors, building relationships with them, and providing investment opportunities to them, CREO shapes capital and behavior.

Another reason to try to get the wealthy elite on the side of climate change investment is that the world’s richest 1% have carbon footprints 175 times higher than that of the poorest 10%. Addressing climate change will require a lot of money, so we should “catalyze capital” while also addressing what is stopping us from decarbonizing the economy. Short term economic growth for the few should not be prioritized over long-term growth for all.

Landscape designer Kate Orff describes the slow decay of the “carbon-intensive ‘suburban sprawl’” that has degraded and polluted US ecosystems. Landscape architects have rarely considered the effects of their designs on the environment; Orff hopes to reimagine her profession as “a form of collective gardening” (177).

Orff uses Jamaica Bay, a salt marsh in New York City, as an example of the ways in which landscape design can save a space, benefit the environment, and benefit the community at the same time. The first lesson Orff learned from Jamaica Bay was to “visualize the invisible” (178). Most often, we can’t physically see the effect our actions have on the environment or ecosystem, which can distance us from important climate issues. The second lesson of Jamaica Bay is to “foster ecosystems as infrastructure” (179). Landscapes can work as infrastructure to keep an environment thriving, and landscape architects should build their designs around protective ecosystems. The third lesson is that involving the public in codesigning a space is critical for support (180). Designers and communities must work together in a democratic process to build trust and equitable solutions. The fourth lesson is to “scale it up,” or think big when it comes to climate solutions in your area (181). Bold aspirations are necessary for meaningful change. For example, Orff asserts that the Mississippi River needs to be redesigned as a “living river system” rather than a waste canal.

Ultimately, mending the landscape is something that will benefit communities, animals, our food, and the climate overall. Mending certain things will likely require that we dismantle others (equitably). Both big and small actions are needed; Orff writes that tending to our landscapes in small ways can help us knit things back together.