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It’s easy to think of climate change as a far-off danger. Most people know that rising tides and temperatures will change our planet dramatically, but the distance between predictions for 2100 and the comparatively small changes we’re seeing now lets us imagine this as a future problem. Our great-grandkids, riding around on hoverboards in holographic spacesuits, might live in a dystopian world, but surely they’ll have the technology to fix everything by then. Unfortunately, objects in the mirror are closer than they appear: there are already climate refugees within the United States’ own borders.

Off the coast of Louisiana, the Biloxi-Chitimacha-Choctaw tribe is watching the Gulf of Mexico cover its ancestral home on Isle de Jean Charles. Across the country, the Quinault Indian Nation of Washington’s Olympic Peninsula faces a similar fate. While this is an immeasurable and wholly unfair loss, these two communities are fortunate in that they’re small enough to be resettled inland as distinct entities. The same cannot be said for Miami (population: 417,650) or New York City (8,550,405).

According to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, 39% of the U.S. population lived in counties bordering an ocean in 2013. The advantage that led people to settle near the water – proximity to the ocean which made international trade possible – has become a major weakness. Yet, despite broad awareness that urban infrastructure in most U.S. cities cannot handle several feet of sea level rise, adaptation is proving to be a mega-challenge. Even the most proactive cities are still in the early stages of their adaptation efforts.

In response to the double threats of land erosion and increased flooding, Virginia Beach residents built a strong adaptation network including nearby townships, businesses, and universities. Even the federal government has been a partner in their efforts since a local Naval base is also threatened. They’re ahead of the game on holistic vulnerability assessments and intergovernmental cooperation. They’ve considered innovative adaptation options, even calling in the Dutch for strategies on living with water. Even here, it’s been hard to make it from the planning stage to implementation.

So what’s making it so difficult for U.S. cities to move forward? In most places, the problem is no longer a lack of political will or a technological deficit: it’s that our legislative bodies aren’t equipped to deal with uncertainty.
There aren’t definitive numbers for temperature change and sea level rise because of the sheer number of variables that could change our climate future. Even authoritative models, like those published by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, have to divide their predictions into “scenarios” based on different levels of future greenhouse gas emissions. How, then, can a city government figure out how to adjust its regulations? What level of sea level rise will buildings built today have to withstand in 50 years? Just how dangerous will urban heat islands become? Overestimating the problem would likely result in political backlash, and underestimating it would leave citizens unprotected from the impending storm. Uncertainty demands more flexibility and faster reactions than most city governments can handle.

This semester, I will explore policy solutions to the challenges of urban climate change adaptation. U.S. cities have to transform if they are to withstand inevitable change over the next century, and that transformation likely needs to be more than a physical one. We can no longer wait to build Tomorrowland: the ocean is already lapping at our front doors.

Historically perceived as a place apart from nature, the concrete and iron jungles of cities are now being remodeled with nature in mind. On America’s West coast, architects are transforming bustling Seattle into a lush forest environment by designing buildings that retain moisture like lichen and moss. On the East coast, the Omega Institute in upstate New York filters and naturally reclaims its wastewater through a series of artificial wetlands and lagoons. Across the globe, Tokyo uses slime mold growth patterns to design efficient transportation networks.

These projects signify the growing popularity and use of biomimicry, whereby architects, scientists, and engineers draw inspiration from natural processes to rethink the way the urban landscape can function and interact with all aspects of human life and the surrounding environment. Having had billions of years to evolve into an efficient, integrated, and holistic ‘machine’, the natural world can shed wisdom on how to approach the design of sustainable and resilient solutions for the built environment.

As urban population growth and a changing climate threaten human existence, this boom in biomimetic design comes at a vital time. Over half of the global population currently lives in urban areas, and this figure is expected to increase to 66% by 2050. Not only will officials and planners have to work quickly and efficiently to accommodate larger and denser populations, but they also have the added challenge of doing so during an era of unprecedented environmental variability due to climate change. The good news is that much of the land that will accommodate rising urban population levels has yet to be developed. Therefore, cities are places with potential for sustainable planning and increased efficiencies.

This semester, I aim to investigate how to breathe new life into the artificial structure of urban areas to create cities that function like living organisms. Is nature-inspired design the most effective way to do this? Can it foster holistic, lasting solutions to urban environmental problems, or will it result in quick fixes that lack long-term cultural and environmental impacts? How can we raise public and political awareness to implement biomimetic technology into our urban infrastructure? Hopefully, the biomimetic approach will help humanity transition into an era where dominance over nature is replaced with one of cooperation and symbiotic support.

According to current predictions by the World Economic Forum, plastic debris in the ocean will outweigh the ocean’s fish by the year 2050. If you’re like me, this statistic is startling. More plastic than fish in our vast oceans? That seems so unnatural, so absurd, that it was hard to wrap my head around that projection when I first heard it at my internship this summer at a coastal conservation organization. But at the same time, I look around myself and all I see is plastic— we wear plastic; our food is packaged in plastic; we drive cars made increasingly out of plastic to stores to buy more things made of plastic. The World Economic Forum study found that about one third of our plastic waste is not disposed of properly. Not surprisingly, quite a bit of plastic ends up drifting in the great blue ocean forming huge patches of garbage and messing with our lives and the lives of the ocean’s creatures.

The effects of marine plastic pollution on wildlife are life threatening. Photographs of creatures caught up and trapped in plastic debris are numerous. Current studies find that at least half of the world’s sea turtles and ninety percent of seabirds have consumed plastic, which can kill them by blocking digestive tracts or piercing intestinal walls. And, animals that eat too much plastic can starve because their stomachs are too full of plastic to feel hungry.

Marine plastic pollution is not only a threat to the health of marine wildlife, but also to the livelihoods of fishermen, ways of life for coastal communities, and human health. Plastic pollution threatens already overfished fish stocks, causes damage to fishing vessels, and is aesthetically unattractive, all of which result in income losses for many coastal communities. A plastic threat that is getting more and more recognition is microplastics. Plastic never really disappears, but decomposes into tiny pieces of plastic that fish and shellfish eat. These microplastics attract and attach to chemical pollutants. When we eat these animals, we ingest these microplastics and the chemicals that attach to them. Studies have found that health effects, like infertility and genetic disruption, occur in fish due to these microplastics. There is fear among scientists that if humans ingest enough, similar effects might occur to us.

Marine plastic pollution poses a global, interconnected threat to our livelihoods, ways of life, health, and the health of marine wildlife. But at the same time, we are producing and dumping more and more plastic into the oceans every year. How can we begin to move towards realizing a future where plastic does not saturate our oceans? Is it possible to have plastic-free oceans when plastics are constantly breaking down into microplastics? How much of a threat are these microplastics to our health? Will this problem be solved through political means, changes in our behavior as consumers, or changes in the behavior of corporations? Through a series of case studies highlighting the importance of change on all three levels- consumer, corporate, and political- I will explore how, as a world connected by our ocean’s currents, we can begin to tackle the issue of marine plastic pollution.

Brownish lumps of chicken nuggets, a pile of white mush that calls itself mashed potatoes, a plastic cup of fruit swimming in syrupy water, a small square of peas that either came from a can or the freezer, and a chocolate chip cookie that is definitely not freshly baked. Is this really what we want to feed our children?

While many other countries serve their children nutrient-dense fresh fruits and vegetables, school lunches in the U.S. are often criticized for consisting of mainly processed, unhealthy foods. The U.S. School Lunch Program, which was initially designed to improve the nutrition of American children, is now putting them at a higher risk for being overweight, particularly children from lower-income families, who depend on these government-funded meals.

Although several initiatives have been created across the country with the goal of improving lower-income communities’ access to fresh, locally grown fruits and vegetables, the Farm-to-Table movement is still most popular among the elite, some of whom can’t imagine someone not being able to afford organic kale from the local farmer’s market. Lower-income communities are still plagued with higher levels of obesity than the general public due to the affordability of calorie-dense processed foods and a lack of access to healthier options.

It begs the question, how can a movement be considered sustainable when it exacerbates inequality and leaves behind those who need it most? For a truly sustainable food system we must foster food sovereignty: the right of peoples to healthy and culturally appropriate food produced through ecologically sound and sustainable methods, and their right to define their own food and agriculture systems.

The Farm-to-School movement just might be the solution. By providing American children with locally grown fruits and vegetables and educating them about where their food actually comes from, Farm-to-School programs are certainly a step towards food sovereignty. While such initiatives have existed for decades in some parts of the country, the USDA formally established the Farm-to-School Program with the passage of the Healthy Hunger-Free Kids Act of 2010.

As a part of the National School Lunch Program, which receives federal funding to provide free or reduced cost meals for students in public schools, Farm-to-School provides a way for lower-income students and communities to get involved in the Farm-to-Table movement.

However, funding for these Farm-to-School programs is limited and distributed on the basis of a competitive grant application process and lower-income communities might not be receiving the funding they so desperately need. Is Farm-to-School a step towards reducing childhood obesity rates and creating more equality within the sustainable food movement? What types of schools have Farm-to-School programs and how are they incorporated into the curriculum? How are farmers, the local economy, and the students themselves affected by these programs? Over the course of the semester, I will explore these questions and many more as I consider whether the Farm-to-School Program is truly sustainable: if it serves to increase food sovereignty for all, or only for some.

photo credit: Peter Power

The Canadian Arctic is changing, fast. Facing warming rates double the rates of the rest of the globe, Canadian northerners have no choice but to adapt to survive. Worry is pervasive in the region that already suffers from isolation, food insecurity, and chronic poverty. Parents must send their children to school hungry because the decline in wild game populations and good berry harvests can no longer balance their diets. Once routine, safe and prosperous hunting trips now leave families anxiously praying for the safe return of their loved ones. The weather has become unpredictable and the ice uncharacteristically thin. Cultural, traditional and physical survival hang in the air.

When most people think of the Canadian Arctic, it is the region’s majestic landscape that comes to mind. Magnificent boreal forests and sweeping tundra stretch across the region. The region contains a staggering 40% of the Canada’s landmass and includes 70% of Canada’s 200 000 km long coastline. It is so cold that 90% of the region is uninhabitable yet humans have lived there for 20 000 years. It is an icon of beauty and pride to all Canadians, north and south.

But for the 100, 000 people, including First Nations, Metis and Inuit, who call the Canadian North home this is a landscape at risk. They make up 56% of the population of the north, more than anywhere else in Canada, and stand to lose the most. Their cultures are so tied to the land, animals and plants of the region that their livelihoods, traditions, and mental and physical health are at grave risk. The indigenous people of the Arctic are already feeling the effects of climate change, and they are some of the least responsible.

As a proud Canadian, I refuse to accept such injustice as the norm. Throughout the semester I will examine the current and predicted impacts of climate change on the lives of the indigenous cultures in the North. I will explore gaps in policy that are leaving fellow Canadians behind. My hope is to expose current injustices and highlight proposed solutions. When you can’t reverse climate change, what can we do to strengthen the communities threatened by it?

With your eyes on the road and foot on the gas, the world is yours… until the gas symbol glows amber. Your first thoughts may be, “How far can I possibly make it before my tank is empty?” or, “Oh great, another chunk of my paycheck going to the pump.” Drivers are oil and gas consumers, and our first concern is often related to our pocketbook. Environmental do-gooders may go further by thinking about reducing their contribution to carbon emissions when they fill up. However, an invisible evil persists in the fossil fuel industry that few think about: air pollution in poor communities. Local human health effects are largely influenced by the production of fossil fuels, yet most people and environmentalists ignore such local concerns, instead focusing on global climate change.

Nosebleeds, asthma attacks, and cases of childhood leukemia are pervasive in Galena Park and Manchester—two primarily Hispanic neighborhoods near the Houston Ship Channel, a seaport area dominated by the petrochemical industrial complex. Toxic chemicals float in the air surrounding homes and playgrounds. Benzene, a carcinogenic chemical also responsible for birth defects, leaks from oil pipelines transporting oil and gas for processing. Residents here cannot ignore oil refinery air pollution; it is part of their everyday life. Many homeowners work in the petrochemical industry and rely on that income.

Air pollution from the oil refinery is a part of everyday life for this family at Hartman Park in Manchester. Daniel Kramer

Galena Park and Manchester are just two neighborhoods among many that face the consequences of air pollution from fossil fuel production. These are examples of environmental injustice, which the National Resources Defense Council (NRDC) defines as occurrences in which “people who live, work, and play in America’s most polluted environments are commonly people of color and the poor.” Issues of environmental justice are particularly important to cover, as many of those affected do not have adequate resources to combat these issues alone, especially against powerful industries, such as the oil and gas industry in the United States.

I will explore the political, economic, and scientific aspects of toxic air pollution from fossil fuel production using the interdisciplinary background that I have developed in environmental studies. My goal is to amplify the voices of various communities in the United States affected by air pollution from fossil fuel production in order to spread awareness beyond affected communities. After studying environmental issues as a student at Wellesley for three years, I strongly believe that issues of environmental justice must be brought to the forefront of discussions within the mainstream environmental movement, which can serve as a powerful ally to improve environmental conditions for communities that are often overlooked.