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.

I was expecting a conference of this size to revive my faith in our governing bodies and their ability to engage collaboratively across political, geographic, and economic differences. However, the “Finance COP” fell short of the financing goal proposed and pushed by Global South representatives—$1.3 trillion in grants annually. The final and approved document met 20% of the original goal at $300 billion in loans annually and included the promise to accelerate to $1.3 trillion annually by 2035. Although there was positive progress made with NDCs and a new UN backed carbon market, it was disappointing to say the least. 

I am sad to report I have returned pessimistic in the faith of this conference, but with a renewed interest in local and individual action. The biggest thing I learned was that where our governments fail us, communities and individuals will rise to the challenge. I know this is a big statement to make. But at every point in the conference, I was faced with the fact that individuals are and must continue to be a part of climate action.  

On my first day at the conference, I heard “Transforming Climate Narratives for Healthy Environments” by Enkhuun Byambadorj, who is a youth activist and the director of operations and co-founder of Breathe Mongolia- Clean Air Coalition. During Byambadorj’s presentation, only a mere 15 minutes, she shared that the death toll in Mongolia due to air pollution is considered too low for officials to intervene. She has been specifically told not to use the number of deaths because it won’t engage officials while hundreds of thousands are dying. 7,000 people die each year in Mongolia due to air pollution, which is every 1 in 10 deaths in the country. In the grand scheme of 8 billion inhabitants, 7,000 may seem very insignificant. However, those are individuals who shouldn’t be boiled down to only a number and deserve justice by solving the issues that killed them. Her discussion on narrative demonstrated that when the Mongolian government intervened, they did so through surface level changes and did not address the root of the issue. Her coalition has only begun the work that must be amplified by others and continued by the Mongolian government. This is a perfect example of individuals stepping up to solve the issues they were once relying on the government to tackle. 

On my last day of the conference, I went to the People’s Plenary. This included a large gathering of individuals from grassroots movements, civil society organizations, and affected communities to share their experiences and demands. It was both empowering and disappointing to hear people pleading to be heard and respected during these talks. It reminded me yet again that individual action is at the core of this fight. To quote the moderator, “We intend to increase our numbers, to amplify our voices, to demand our space at the decision-making table all in defense of our planet. We are the guardians of the earth. We are the children of the earth. Let us stand united in defense of our planet.” This is a motivating quote that I will take with me to UConn.  

Hearing this was daunting and overwhelming to be completely honest. As someone who struggled with eco-anxiety, it is difficult to translate my fears into action when I am paralyzed by them. I am not saying that, as a student, I am going to solve every issue or that I have the means to. But the purpose of this fellowship is to open our eyes to the fact that we need to start educating our communities and foster an environment for more climate solutions to develop at UConn. I can say with certainty that, with the time I have left at UConn, I will be more attuned to climate action. 

Naiiya Patel is an Accounting major in the School of Business.

Reflecting on my experiences in Azerbaijan, I can trace my frustrations with the conference’s conclusion to the significant disconnect between the negotiations and all other events at COP29. The impactful panels and discussions I attended highlighted the urgent need for climate action to address the human rights violations that are experienced on a global scale. In comparison, negotiations were rightfully described by Power Shift Africa director Mohamed Adow as a “betrayal of both people and planet,” ending in a climate financial deal with only a small fraction of the original funding goal. The lack of urgency displayed by negotiators— specifically those representing the Global North—demonstrates the importance of community organizing and local change to combat inaction on a national level.

One powerful event I attended was the People’s Plenary, themed “Pay Up, Stand Up: Finance Climate Action, Not Genocide,” which broadened my perspective on interconnected justice issues and further emphasized the need for financial action. The plenary featured speakers representing various groups, including indigenous communities, people with disabilities, and populations facing genocide. A mantra repeated throughout the event was that there is no climate justice without human rights; the correlation between these two causes is evident in the ongoing genocide and ecocide in Gaza. Israel’s genocide has killed over 45,000 Palestinians and displaced over 1.9 million people, and its ecocide has intentionally destroyed the natural environment across the Gaza strip. It is impossible to discuss plans of creating a sustainable future without addressing current conflicts, such as the genocide in Gaza, which are inherently unsustainable. Therefore, plenary speakers urged for a reallocation of funding from enabling genocide to supporting climate finance.

However, the messaging of the People’s Plenary was not reflected in financial action at negotiations. The conference concluded with a financial agreement allocating $300 billion annually in grants and loans from the developed world to developing nations, with a plan for the figure to reach at least $1.3 trillion annually by 2035. This final settlement reflects a mere fraction of the financial goal established prior to the conference. It is disheartening to see that developed nations failed to meet the earlier objective because the dire circumstances already being experienced due to the climate crisis necessitate swift and extensive action.

The disconnect between COP29 events, such as the People’s Plenary, and negotiations is a concerning indicator of climate inaction on a global scale. But rather than dwelling on the existential dread this reality can elicit, it is essential to refocus attention on community-based advocacy and consider the value of smaller scale change. In a roundtable meeting, “Nature, Health, and Resilience in Cities,” there was a key focus on building resilience on a sub-national level and leveraging the power of cities to address the climate crisis. While there may be inaction at a national level, there is significant power in creating change at a local level, as it sets an example and adds pressure for action on a larger scale. Activist organizations can help to initiate this sub-national change to ensure a fair green transition despite institutional barriers and insufficient financial support.

Sources:

https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2024/nov/23/cop29-agrees-13tn-climate-finance-deal-but-campaigners-brand-it-a-betrayal

https://waronwant.org/news-analysis/cop29-climate-talks-fail-global-south-theres-hope

https://www.aljazeera.com/news/longform/2023/10/9/israel-hamas-war-in-maps-and-charts-live-tracker

In a talk on global water access, quality and solutions on Tuesday, Maggie White, a senior manager at the Stockholm International Water Institute, described drought as “torture in slow motion.” Compared to flooding, she explained, drought receives significantly less media attention and public concern, despite having an equal capacity for devastation. The catastrophic impacts of a drought are less sudden than those of other natural disasters, and don’t demand your attention with the same howling intensity of, say, a hurricane. But these impacts build, first gradually and then not, until they become impossible to ignore.

The idea of this “torture in slow motion” slipping through the cracks of public concern got me thinking about both time and attention as they relate to the climate crisis in general. My takeaways from my first few days at COP29 in Baku, Azerbaijan could be summarized in one word: urgency. People from all over the world have disrupted their lives to come to this conference and tell others how the climate crisis has disrupted theirs. From natural disasters to unavailability of food to climate migration, the impacts of this crisis are inescapable. To even begin to sufficiently address them, action would have to be immediate. But I sat in the back of several plenary rooms as negotiations crawled on, struck by the lack of urgency in each of them. Their pacing starkly contrasts with the reality that the people on the front lines of the climate crisis already know, and that we will all soon have to reckon with: that our time to act is limited. 

COP itself is hectic and confusing. It’s a maze of disjointed rooms and displays. In the Blue Zone, delegates use convoluted language to say very little. In the Green Zone, organizations and companies vie for visitors’ attention. It’s easy to get lost among the pavilions offering pamphlets, coffee and candies. Members of the press constantly snap photos and the crowds are sticky and entangling. Chanting, music, banging gavels—the noise here can be overwhelming. In this way, it closely resembles our world. It’s so easy for the voices that we desperately need to hear—those of people who see the impacts of climate change firsthand and are working with their communities, whether local, national or global, to implement meaningful change—to get lost. I’m coming to the realization that as an observer at something as big and complicated as COP, the best that I can do is try to navigate the noise and find meaning and connection wherever I can. At this conference and amid our global climate crisis, hope and grief abound. I’m not quite sure what to make of it, but I know that we need to see action now. And it needs to be taken at full speed.

 

Amanda McCard is majoring in Journalism and Environmental Studies in the College of Liberal Arts & Sciences.