A Personal Essay on the Climate Strikes
“I want you to feel the fear I feel every day. And then I want you to act. I want you to act as you would in a crisis. I want you to act as if our house is on fire”
-Greta Thunberg
If you have never been to a protest, of any sort, then I don’t think I can quite put into words the feeling that overcomes you as you arrive at the march. The increasingly loud chants as you come closer and closer. Turning a corner and being greeted with a huge sea of people. You should be anxious, but you’re not. For me at least, the fear of climate change trumps my fear of crowds. In fact, the crowd is one of the places I feel safest. I feel like I am enabling my voice to be heard. Ironic really, given that my individual voice is inevitably lost in the sheer abundance of individual voices. But this is unimportant. What is important is that we are united, thousands of individual voices merged together to create one voice, desperate for change. Together I feel that we are powerful.
The first strike I attended, back in March, was considerably smaller than any which have recently taken place. It was a couple of thousand school children, taking the day off from GCSE revision in order to boycott something possibly even more terrifying. None-the-less, it completely changed my perception of climate change. For the first time ever, it seemed to be reduced from a looming inevitability to something entirely preventable. Instead of regarding it as seemingly unavoidable that we would all end up in a blazing hell-like dystopia for the rest of time, it appeared to me that this was throughly stoppable. For the first time ever I felt as though I could truly help make a difference. I truly believe that this movement has helped my generation find our voice. It’s demonstrated to us just how influential we can be, and how we can use this to change the world for better. But as I said, only a couple of thousand turned up that fateful day, and this was only the beginning.
The most recent strike I have had the privilege of attending occurred in late September. Instead of a small square, a vast street was filled. It seemed as though the whole city was participating. Old people held posters and flags. Young children slept in buggies. It seemed as though, amongst all the hubbub, there was an underlying serenity between us all. A weird sense of harmony within the community. We are all afraid of the uncertainty of the future, especially given the adamancy of the government and other important figures, but no matter how stubborn they are, I believe we can be stubborner. We simply want a future, it is preposterous to deny us this.
So if nothing else, I implore you to take some time, if just a minute to consider how you (and I mean you specifically) can help change the world, even in the most minor of ways. Continue the momentum of the monthly strikes. Come to Extinction Rebellion talks and meetings, and encourage others to do the same. Even just make the switch from driving to work/school to cycling, or use a reusable water bottle instead of plastic ones. It all counts. Be on the right side of history.
By Emily Henman