Climate justice is a confusing thing. You want to believe it, understand it, see it, and address it. But, it’s honestly confusing, messy, and quite frankly disruptive.

This is my second time having the privilege to attend a COP. My first COP, which was COP27 in Egypt, was my first real unraveling of climate justice. I always believed myself to be someone that cared about social issues, and then felt it was my responsibility or moral imperative to understand climate justice. 

At COP, there is an incredible display of climate leaders from around the globe. From Ministers in the EU making climate finance deals to frontline communities in South Africa screaming at the top of their lungs to demand justice for their lives. It was the first time I felt in my bones how unequally different communities across the earth were to be affected by the climate crisis, and how it felt. How it felt to them, their reaction to it, and how it felt in my body.

I knew it was an injustice. Although, not only how unequally consequences of climate change were to be felt, but something more pervasive. I was lucky to have university professors on the trip, including Phoebe Godfrey, that were welcoming enough to hold my hand to the learnings of climate justice. 

Climate justice revealed to me that the roots of the climate crisis are not just greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions, but the legacy of decades long exploitation of people and our planet in the pursuit of profit. It doesn’t just look at GHG emissions at the problem, but rather as the symptom of a systemic wide problem of what our society values and the harm it’s willing to conduct to achieve it.

Now, it’s time to hold space for how this feels. This is scary. This makes my bones hurt. My heart deflates, and genuinely rattles my body with fear. What was already a complicated and atrocious problem of GHG emissions, just got bigger and more complicated. Climate justice seeks to unpack the power and politics that is wrapped up in the climate crisis that often attempts to be shielded. 

At COP29, this year I wanted to continue my understanding of the complexity of climate justice. This past year, I had been exposed to a lot of learnings around the impact of the military and global war as tied to the climate crisis, highlighted by the wars in Gaza, Ukraine, and Sudan, and how it prevails to upholding, perpetuating, and causing global injustices. I had also learned more about topics including colonialism, imperialism, capitalism, and facism – how these concepts are defined and how they present themselves in policy and practice. 

Climate justice is overwhelming. And I wanted COP29 to give me more clarity and insight on what climate justice is, how to communicate about it, and how to address it. I wanted to understand my role in climate justice and climate injustice, and how I can be an individual person and community member in the movement. I want to give my mind, body, and soul to the folks at the frontline, and fully absorb and embody the struggles they are amplifying and what actions they are asking for.

And to be frank, I struggled. I would listen in on education events, and be filled with self-doubt, confusion, and fear around messaging and desperately trying to find the truth. My heart would feel one thing, and my mind would take my body in another direction. Some webinars would talk about capitalism, some would not. Some events would digest the military, some wouldn’t with a 10-foot pole. If I want to amplify climate justice, who am I to listen to? What am I to amplify? What am I to unpack in myself, and how do I not reaffirm false narratives and perpetuate harm?

One of the last events that our team went to during the Blue Zone at COP29 was the People’s Planetary. This event included community activists at the frontlines of climate injustice across Palestine, Lebanon, Sudan, Africa, and more to vocalize the reality of their experiences. It was one of the first events of COP29 where I got to experience people just fully telling their truth. A Palestinian activist showed footage of people being brutalized by the Israeli military and their homes being bombed. A Lebanese activist shouted how their family was being attacked and how afraid they were. A Sudan activist cried on how no one was talking about Sudan while people were being murdered. She could barely get through their sentences. 

I felt afraid. Scared. Sad. Those feelings didn’t go away with this event. They intensified. However, it was one of the most important events I could have attended at COP29. Activists weren’t performing a stunt. They weren’t academics trying to prove a point, or industry trying to paint a certain image for their brand. They were just being honest. They were being real about their experiences, and how the powers that were not investing in climate finance at COP29, including the Global North, were raveging and sacrificing their communities. Murder and harm is ugly and disgusting, but it’s a reality of people in the Global South and what the fossil fuel industry and militarized countries have done and will continue to do to communities. 

This event showed me that to understand climate justice is not to be perfect, an academic, or the most experienced person in the room. It’s about being brave, and honoring the truth of what powerful countries and fossil fuel industries have done to our planet and people.

These activists at the frontline know this truth because it’s a part of their lived experience. They cannot look away, and watch their communities be harmed and die. We must listen to them, and be brave enough to feel it in our bones. We must grieve, be sickened, and feel empowered enough to talk about it in our communities and shout it at the people in power. Not only because we should care about our brothers and sisters that are in harm’s way, but also it’s the only way to address the climate crisis honestly. Systems based on exploitation, violence, dominance will never serve the people, but only the interests of money and the people in power.

This article itself was hard to write. I was worried I would talk about climate justice wrong or say the wrong things. But, what I want to take from COP29 is to not be afraid, and trust myself to know the truths that I have heard. We must call out the Global North, the military, the fossil fuel industry for the harms they have perpetuated and the power they hold.

I ask you to stand with me, hold my hand, and be brave enough to amplify this truth as it is. Let’s talk about colonialism, racism, capitalism, imperialism, facism, militarism. Let’s see what we know and what we need to learn. We can be sad and afraid, but we can do it together just as we did at the People’s Planetary. This is where we can seek liberation from the climate crisis – not in resisting the truth, but resisting exploitation and aiming for revolution. 

Sydney Collins is a Campus Climate Action Corps Connecticut – Climate Action Leader with the Office of Sustainability. She was also a UConn@COP Fellow in 2022.

I arrived at COP29 in Baku, Azerbaijan, with a mix of hope and skepticism. With the world’s temperature getting close to the 1.5^oC threshold, the stakes couldn’t have been higher. What struck me from the outset was the diversity of voices—from grassroots activists amplifying the concerns of the most vulnerable to policymakers navigating the complex web of international negotiations. This convergence reaffirmed a fundamental truth: addressing the climate crisis demands both collective resolve and individual responsibility.

As the conference unfolded (I joined in its critical final week), the outcomes, while not shocking, left me pondering on the progress we’ve made and the gaps we’ve yet to close. Here are my key takeaways:

1. Financing Gaps: Progress, but Far from Equity

Let’s start with a win. The headline commitment to triple climate finance from wealthy nations to $300 billion annually by 2035 was a significant step forward. Yet, even as I welcomed this progress, the numbers felt glaringly inadequate.

The reality is stark: developing nations need trillions, not billions, to meet the dual challenges of mitigation and adaptation. And much of this funding still comes as loans, deepening the debt burdens of countries already grappling with the devastating impacts of climate change.

One promising aspect was the acknowledgment of private finance as a critical lever to scale climate action. If harnessed effectively, it could bridge the gap between pledges and the real resources required. But to meet our net-zero goals by 2050, wealthy nations must do more—both in terms of direct contributions and by creating systems that ensure equitable access to funds.

2. Fossil Fuels: The Elephant in the (Drafting) Room

This was, without question, one of the most frustrating aspects of COP29. After nearly three decades of climate summits, the absence of a clear, actionable plan to phase out fossil fuels was glaring. Hearing the passionate pleas of activists and vulnerable communities during side events made the lack of progress on this front even harder to stomach. Ignoring the complete phase out of fossil fuel is like treating the symptoms without addressing the disease.

3. Carbon Markets: A Rare Bright Spot

If there was one area where progress felt meaningful, it was carbon markets. I’ve been skeptical of these mechanisms in the past, given their history of loopholes and greenwashing. But this year marked a turning point.

For the first time, we saw real clarity on the rules for emissions trading under Articles 6.2 and 6.4 of the Paris Agreement. These guidelines are critical to prevent double-counting and ensuring transparency. While not perfect, they offer a foundation to rebuild trust in carbon markets and attract investments into crucial areas like reforestation, nature-based solutions, and carbon storage.

The challenge now is implementation. Robust enforcement mechanisms will be essential to maintain credibility, and it will take a concerted effort to ensure these markets deliver real, measurable impacts.

As we turn toward COP30 in Belém, Brazil, I’m left with a mix of hope and urgency. There’s however an opportunity here. The updated Nationally Determined Contributions (NDCs) due next year could inject the ambition we didn’t see in Baku. Brazil, as host, has already shown leadership with its ambitious emissions reduction target, and I hope this sets the tone for more transformative action.

Every COP reminds me of the duality of this process. It’s frustratingly slow, often bogged down in politics and compromises. And yet, it’s one of the few spaces where the entire world comes together to confront the climate crisis. For me, COP29 reinforced the importance of pushing for systemic change—not just within the negotiations but also in how we approach the climate crisis more broadly. Whether it’s finance, fossil fuels, or adaptation, we need bold, collaborative action that matches the scale of the challenge. Incrementalism isn’t going to cut it anymore.

As I left Baku, I felt a mix of exhaustion and determination. The road ahead is daunting, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that the fight against climate change is worth every step.

Mayowa Oladele is a Ph.D. candidate in Chemical and Biomolecular Engineering.

Since I last blogged, I have been in the Blue Zone of COP29. Initially all of the country pavilions, meeting rooms, and plenaries felt overwhelming. I enjoyed meeting representatives from each country and learning about the issues they were dealing with and the strategies they were employing to combat these issues. It was particularly eye opening to hear people from a variety of industries present on new innovations in their space. I enjoyed attending this presentation on international aviation’s role in climate change, and I learned about the different low carbon aviation fuel alternatives being tested and the need for greater investment in sustainable fuel research and development. It was inspiring to hear how hopeful industry leaders were on progress towards net zero through a restructuring of aviation business models.

Another compelling industry presentation was one on the need for resiliency in coastal tourism. Coastal tourism accounts for nearly 50% of all tourism spending in the world. Leaders highlighted the necessity of educational campaigns to help make coastal tourism more sustainable from the ground up, in a way that creates more economic opportunity for coastal communities.

One of the biggest surprises for me at this conference was the presence of fossil fuel lobbyists. Out of the roughly 70,000 attendees, there were around 1,700 representatives from the fossil fuel industries. The greenwashing and selective disclosure at these pavilions felt apparent. I spoke with some representatives who were unable to answer questions on their future plans of reducing non-renewable energy usage or verify some of their larger environmental initiative claims.

The actual UN negotiations were another unusual part of this conference. Just a day after hearing testimonials from people whose entire villages were displaced by floods, it felt impersonal to hear delegates debate over semantics and bracket placements. I know minor language changes have a large impact on the execution of climate policy, but the whole process felt incredibly detached from the gravity of the climate crisis.

Overall attending COP29 was an incredibly valuable experience. I learned a lot and met amazing people, but it didn’t make me much more optimistic about the future. COP concluded with a measly $300 billion pledged by 2035 to developing countries, which fell short of the $1.3 trillion deemed necessary by experts. The final agreement also lacked specificity regarding individual countries’ contributions and the balance between grants and loans, which raised further questions about its enforceability. There was an approved groundwork from Article 6 of the Paris Agreement for a UN-backed global carbon market which has garnered criticism for being a greenwashed attempt to minimize the need for direct emissions reductions. All this being said, I am extremely grateful for this opportunity, and I hope more progress is made at COP30 in Brazil next year.

Faiz Farooqui is a UConn@COP Fellow and Computer Science major in the College of Engineering.

For me, COP29 is defined by two stories.

The first is one of inaction. Plenary meetings (main meetings of all UN delegates), negotiations, and meetings about reports on the science of climate change offered re-runs of previous COPs. While Scientists continued to underline with ever thicker ink the absolute necessity to, “tighten our belts” and transition away from fossil fuels to avert “hell and high water,” delegates engaged in platitudes, making grandiose statements about the need for and importance of sustainable and just development. These claims are hardly new, and they were made at a COP – the third in a row hosted by a petrostate – in which negotiators failed to make a major leap in the right direction.

The purpose of this COP was to settle on a New Collective Quantified Goal (NCQG) for climate finance – the delivery of funds from developed countries to help developing countries mitigate and adapt to climate change.  Developing countries were pushing for $1.3tn per year, delivered primarily as grants (as opposed to loans) from the public budgets of developed nations – the parties most responsible for and least vulnerable to climate change. Science was clear that a figure in the trillions was necessary to limit warming to 1.5°C, but developed nations only agreed to “take the lead” in raising $300bn per year by 2035. Even with the half-baked concession to raise $1.3tn by 2035 from all sources of finance, public and private, India’s delegate, Chandni Raina, termed the sum “paltry.” This all too gradual progress is part of the reason why a collection of prominent global leaders, including former UN Secretary General Ban-Ki-moon and former Executive Secretary of the UNFCCC Christiana Figueres, signed a letter calling for significant reform to the COP process.

The calls for reform are prominent amongst local stakeholders as well, the main characters of the second story – the one of action. At an NGO (non-governmental organization) panel discussion focused on community action in a changing climate, David Munene, a leader of the Catholic Youth Network for Environmental Sustainability in Kenya termed the COP process “insanity” – the repetition of the same thing over and over again with the expectation of a different result. This disaffection is why NGO leaders in multiple panels issued some version of the following call to action: “countries won’t take action – we have to.”

People and organizations from around the world are listening. This includes MASIPAG, an NGO that empowered Leodegario Velayo (and other Filipino farmers) to endure severe weather events through farmer-to-farmer education programs focused on diversified, climate change resilient farming systems. Save Soil also aims to empower farmers through a multipronged approach to incentivize the adoption of sustainable practices and the development of farmer collectives. This also includes Prasiddihi Singh, a 12 year-old climate activist and founder of Prasiddihi Forest Foundation aiming to increase forest cover in India through youth-led tree plantings. Another youth climate activist, Anisa Abibulloeva, a leader of Little Earth in Tajikistan, aims to promote youth engagement in climate innovation through workshops and inclusive advocacy efforts. She joined Keith Wingeard on a panel focused on youth innovation to address climate change. Keith works for an NGO called Solar Cookers International which aims to address indoor air pollution and promote clean cooking throughout the global south. These examples are remarkable because they’re common.

It’s easy to get hung up on the insane insufficiency of the first story. Whether we address the climate crisis in a just way will ultimately come down to whether we can free ourselves from the corporate and elite interests blocking progress. But, if we fixate on this story of insufficient global and national action, we’ll lose sight of the second story – the story of folks making the choice to continue doing the hard work to address climate change in spite of global ineptitude. This is the story that inspires people (like me) to more actively push for necessary societal change from the bottom-up.

Thomas Bonitz is a Ph.D. candidate in Geography in the College of Liberal Arts & Sciences.

My journey to COP29 was shaped by a deep commitment to international diplomacy and advancing equitable solutions to global challenges. The conference illuminated the complexities and possibilities of climate action, offering lessons that resonate with my aspirations to serve as a foreign service officer. Beyond the sessions and discussions, COP29 challenged me to rethink how I approach climate advocacy, personally and professionally.

Here are the three key lessons I’ve taken from COP29.

One of the most profound lessons I learned at COP29 is the necessity of working with countries whose values may not fully align with ours. Climate change is a global issue that transcends borders, ideologies, and political systems. For example, the negotiations required collaboration between nations with vastly different priorities—some emphasizing fossil fuel transition timelines, others demanding immediate financial support for climate adaptation. Despite disagreements, the shared urgency of protecting our planet made dialogue possible. This lesson is particularly relevant to my future career as a diplomat. As a Foreign Service Officer, I will face situations where I must engage with nations that hold different values from those of the United States. COP29 reminded me that finding common ground is essential, especially when addressing issues like climate change that affect us all. On a personal level, this means approaching difficult conversations with empathy and a commitment to shared solutions rather than allowing ideological differences to stall progress.

The second lesson is to think on a global scale but act locally. Hearing grassroots leaders at COP29 describe hyper-local solutions to climate challenges was a transformative experience. Speakers from across the world shared what they are doing in their communities to create sustainable food options, help climate refugees, and rebuild their connection with nature. As a Rangel Fellow, this perspective underscores the importance of amplifying community-led initiatives in foreign policy. I intend to advocate for U.S. climate diplomacy that not only considers the broader global impact but also uplifts localized efforts.

Finally, throughout COP29, storytelling emerged as a powerful tool for driving climate action. Whether it was Indigenous leaders sharing ancestral knowledge or youth activists recounting the human toll of climate disasters, these narratives captivated audiences and spurred tangible commitments. Storytelling is equally vital in diplomacy, where connecting on a human level can bridge divides and inspire action. I plan to integrate this lesson into my future career by emphasizing human-centered narratives in policy discussions. Ensuring that the voices of those most affected by climate change are heard in international forums is essential to the fight for change.

Mariam Vargas is a Political Science and International Relations individualized major in the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences.

As a local zoning commissioner, I have spent countless hours shaping housing policies and open space plans — but I never imagined how closely these efforts would align with what I experienced at COP29 in Azerbaijan. I had the opportunity to observe throughout week two, mainly in the Blue Zone, official proceedings that would shape the next decade of global financial obligations for climate change. Although worlds apart in scope, sitting in the negotiation room as an observer to amend articles on my final day in the Blue Zone felt surprisingly familiar. It reminded me of my work back home in South Windsor, where I often debate and advocate for changes to language on my own commission.

During this journey, I found myself constantly drawing comparisons to home. Before this trip, I had never traveled outside the country — or even been on a plane — until I left the States for a week for my flight to Azerbaijan. The mountains, the city, the infrastructure — I found myself comparing them to what I knew, wondering why they looked the way they did. I was struck by how clean Baku was as a city, compared to what I knew in the United States. I admired the thoughtful infrastructure dedicated to pedestrian safety, the accessible and plentiful modes of transportation, and how they had preserved the old part of the city for tourism — something we often fail to do in the United States. I only encountered friendly faces on my travels, and when I interacted with locals, they would always ask me what the United States was like and if it was as dangerous as many make it out to be. At that moment, it was a wake-up call. It gave me a new sense of urbanism that we at home have failed to protect our very own.

One of the most powerful lessons I have taken away from COP29 is the art of storytelling as a tool to advance policy. While data and facts are essential, something I often focus on, they frequently fail to connect on an emotional level. People support what they can relate to, and storytelling bridges that gap, turning abstract policies into palatable realities. An example I have come up with is rather than sharing a percentage or statistic supporting any argument to incorporate roundabouts in a suburban community, create a story of what could happen. Talk about feeling of safety and the potential impact for school children when increasing safety on our roads. That argument alone has the potential to win over parents, and most likely, the majority of the room. During my time at COP29, I observed how presenters used narratives to humanize complex challenges and inspire action. Whether it was a story about a community transformed by active transport or a personal anecdote highlighting the real-world impact of climate policies, these stories brought the issues to life. It became clear to me that storytelling is not just a skill but a necessity for effective leadership.

As of writing this, I know I am nearing the end of a chapter in my life as a student at UConn. Truthfully, I do not know what the next page looks like. But I do know the changes I want to carry forward with me. If I am truly committed to making an impact, both at home and globally, I must become more open to the many ways I can drive change. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to speak first-hand with leaders in the space. It would be foolish to squander advice that comes so rarely. There are only so many seconds in life to embrace and learn from these moments, and I hope to make the most of them.

Alan Cavagnaro is a Political Science and Urban and Community Studies major in the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences.

Now one week removed from my experience from Baku, I can safely say that I have been profoundly impacted by my time at COP29. Being able to see up close and personal the machinations of global politics has frustrated me to my core. Sitting behind the U.S. delegation in the negotiation room and helplessly watching on as they and their geopolitical allies obstruct references to indigenous peoples and local communities gutted me. There was a stark juxtaposition between the side events that I attended which discussed the vast sums of money and attention needed for climate adaptation and decarbonization and the negotiations that were happening down the hall without the remotest sense of urgency for action. Although the gloom and doom came out in full force, I have to be forthcoming and say that I fully expected that I would be disappointed with the legal process. It was unfortunate, but not unexpected to see the pavilions centering OPEC, methane in sustainability, and hydrogen solutions from petrostates like Saudi Arabia and Russia. This COP had over 1,700 oil lobbyists in attendance with rumblings of oil deals being reached at the conference. There is something uniquely repulsive about lingering in a space aimed to combat the climate crisis and brazenly going counter to all of that in favor of further destruction and death. Something that I did find myself feeling good about after my time at the conference was the random people I met who had dedicated themselves to sustainability in their respective fields. It filled me with confidence to know that there are people making concrete differences in their communities worldwide. From the conversations I had with researchers and municipal workers on the bus to COP, and the local population engaged in sustainable development at home, I was inspired. There was this sense of purpose that many of these incredible people had, and even despite their disillusionment with the COP process, were present and doing their work all the same. At the end of the day, it is upsetting to see that so much is being done by so many incredible people, but due to our systems of incentivization and intense economic stratification, it feels that so much is out of most peoples’ hands. 

COP was an incredible experience and one that I would not trade for anything. Being exposed to the height of global sustainability and an incredible city in Baku gave me perspective that I could get no other way. I can only hope to attain further perspectives in my climate journey.  

Adebote Mayowa never wanted to be a climate activist. He was passionate about photography, and liked to shoot weddings and graduations in his town in Nigeria. One day he read a tweet about a village that was dealing with unprecedented storms, a result of climate change. Thinking it would make for a compelling photo story, he grabbed his camera and caught a flight there.

At COP29, he accepted a third-place award in the international photography competition. Since that first photo story, he has been traveling around his country and beyond, capturing the ugly realities of climate change. Destroyed homes, landfills, floods—his photos display the things we all know to be true about the climate crisis, but often choose to ignore. As he presented at a panel called “Through our Eyes: Visual Artists Perspectives of Climate Change,” I was struck by the emotional response his photographs elicited from the audience. And it makes sense: his pictures show real people experiencing real impacts of a crisis they didn’t cause but are suffering the consequences of.

Two days earlier, I sat in on a different presentation. This one was in the blue, not the green zone, and the audience consisted of only people lucky enough to receive coveted blue zone badges. In this plenary session, delegates from nations gave two-minute speeches. I listened to a few: New Zealand, Estonia, Norway. They were all okay. They said good things like “we’ve come far, but not far enough” and “we must raise our ambition and act decisively, with urgency.” And in between the speeches: silence.

The difference between Adebote Mayowa’s presentation and this plenary session has been on my mind since leaving COP. In one, a passionate man showed examples of devastation caused by climate change, and the audience, mostly average people attending a green zone panel just to learn, left moved but still mostly powerless. In the other, the power in the room was palpable—blue zone officials took up most of the seats—but the speeches were impersonal and, likely, unimpactful. This is the paradox of COP: those with an immense drive to make a difference aren’t able to, and the people most capable of making change don’t bother.

I wonder: if Adebote’s photos could be on display during negotiations, would anything be different? I’m afraid that I know the answer is no. At this point, I don’t think there are many people who can claim ignorance of the issue as an excuse for inaction. I’m not sure what there is to do to make people care more.

Now COP has ended, and for the most part, the world will return to worrying about other things. The additions to Baku Stadium, put in just for the conference, will be torn down, and the people in attendance will go back to work and school and their families and friends. Next year, the world will gather again, this time in Belém, Brazil, to try another time to make meaningful progress toward a better world. Will anything change by then? It’s hard to remain optimistic, but I don’t know if there’s another option.

Earlier this month marked the end of the 29th United Nations Climate Change Conference or COP in Baku, Azerbaijan. The conference lasted for two weeks, and I had the opportunity to attend the second half as an observer. This blog is the third of three that I will write in reflection of this conference. When considering what else I could say about this experience, I decided to try and draw inspiration from past UConn student fellows. I spent the better part of an hour reading through articles from COPs past: Sharm El-Sheikh, Glasgow, Madrid, etc. Reading, I was struck by an incredible sense of familiarity. Many if not most reflections I read expressed the same sense of frustrated optimism, seemingly characteristic of these negotiations, that I felt shortly after landing back stateside. To me, it conjured the image of the Red Queen’s Race. Famous from Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking-Glass, it depicts a scene in which Alice is dragged by the Red Queen running as fast as she can, but when they stop, Alice realizes that they haven’t moved at all. When Alice asks why they hadn’t gone anywhere after running so fast for so long, the Red Queen replies “Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place.”

As I wrote in my previous blog, we find ourselves in a dire situation. According to the World Meteorological Organization (WMO), 2024 is on track to be the hottest year on record. The previous record-holder it will dethrone? 2023. According to the 2024 UNEP Emissions Gap Report, in order to stay under a 1.5° C increase in global temperatures, the world must cut GHG emissions by 42%. Last year we released 1.3% more emissions than the year prior. Unfortunately, despite my natural inclination towards optimism, I had felt overwhelmingly stuck during this conference. Like Alice and the Red Queen, it seemed we were running as fast as we could only to end up in the same place we’d already been. Coming out of the conference, my general fear was that the UN’s grand gesture of an incremental approach may not be enough to meet this moment.

Thus, as negotiations dragged and parties entrenched, I looked outside the UN for answers. A main element of any COP is the information and experience sharing of people from all across the globe working to combat climate change. From what I gathered, real progress is made not in the grand negotiation halls but instead with small steps taken by regular people. I gather this not just from endlessly impressive strangers that I listened to on panels, or that I met walking from negotiations or between pavilions, but from the extraordinary cohort of students and faculty that I traveled to Baku with. I’ve met individuals who have devoted their careers to advocating for a more sustainable campus and a greater respect for our shared natural world. I’ve met with individuals who have devoted their careers to upholding justice and stewarding our planet for future generations. I’ve met with the future generation of leaders that will help get us unstuck, and I’ve never been more hopeful.

Despite the initial tone of this blog, I actually find myself in reflection having immense hope for the future and for our climate, much more than I had prior. This trip was not transformative to me as many of my predecessors have claimed, but instead it felt renewing. Interacting with a cohort so capable of meeting this moment renewed my conviction that shared commitment by passionate actors really can bring about a radically better world. I come from this experience with the genuine belief that the future really is in our hands, and that a future generation of leaders may be able to finally turn the page on the stagnation of the past.

Colin Piteo is pursuing a master’s degree in Public Policy from the School of Public Policy.