Coastal ecosystems, or coastal wetlands, are one of the world’s most important ecological carbon sinks, storing roughly 50% of all carbon buried in the ocean. They act as “carbon stores… known as ‘blue carbon’ because they are located in places where the land meets the sea.” Simply put, coastal wetlands are the world’s blue carbon sink, and protecting them contributes to climate change mitigation and adaptation worldwide.

A healthy wetland is one that “can keep carbon stored away for millennia.”  When coastal ecosystems are increasingly threatened by climate change effects and are being destroyed, they release approximately 450 million metric tons of carbon dioxide worldwide. Carbon dioxide, nitrous oxide, and methane are all greenhouse gases (GHG). Salt marshes, mangrove forests, and sea grasses provide locations for diverse habitat, offer feeding grounds for numerous species, and act as sponges that retain millions of gallons of floodwater.

The protection of coastal ecosystems has ecological and cultural benefits. As the breeding ground for fish habitat, coastal wetlands are important food sources. Coastal wetlands are also areas of environmental significance and cultural and spiritual heritage for Indigenous peoples, from the Seychelle Islands to the Arctic shoreline. Indigenous Peoples’ knowledge and stewardship are crucial to the successful management of coastal wetlands.

Coastal wetlands can act as buffers that improve the resilience of coastlines during severe storms. Furthermore, ongoing climate change effects such as sea level rise and soil erosion are damaging coastal ecosystems. However, uncontrolled coastal land development, conversion of wetlands into agricultural use, and greenhouse gas emissions from cars, shed more light on human-made impacts on coastline destruction.

The protection of coastal wetlands has been recognized by the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCC) as a key contributor to climate change mitigation and adaptation. As signatories of the Paris Agreement, countries can take actions to reduce, if not to eliminate, harmful greenhouse gas emissions and to facilitate restoration of the coastal wetlands and other natural areas to meet climate mitigation and adaptation targets. Canada’s 2021 updated Nationally Determined Contribution (NDC) under the Paris Agreement “is to reduce emissions by 40-45% below 2005 levels by 2030” and to “[reduce] its emissions to net-zero by 2050.” However, specific action plans for curbing emissions, which should include restoring natural areas, must be supported, and implemented. Indigenous climate leadership is addressed in Canada’s revised NDCs, noting support for “Indigenous-led and delivered solutions, equipping Indigenous Peoples with equitable resources, and ensuring appropriate and timely access to funding to implement self-determined climate action.”

Protecting coastal wetlands, the blue carbon sinks of the planet will require ongoing research, policy, and government action worldwide. The World Water Forum in 2022 will be held in Dakar and offers an opportunity for countries to review sustainable development goals (SDGs) and the 2030 Agenda of Sustainable Development, including addressing the lack of access to safe drinking water among First Nations communities, eliminating chemical pollution of watersheds, and upholding human rights to clean water and sanitation.

By Leela Viswanathan

 

(Image Credit: James Park, Unsplash)

Change is constant. We know this, but just how aware of change are we? If I asked you whether the moon was waxing or waning and at what time and where you would see it in your sky tonight, would you be able to answer without asking Google? The moon is a constant reminder of change. Each month, Moon guides us through a cycle of death and rebirth; she guides the oceans’ tides to ebb and flow and encourages our own inner waters to pause and stir. If we are unable to feel Moon, to notice her moods and offerings, then what else are we missing?

How attuned are we with the mice, the frogs, and the birds? Do we notice the native hare turning white in the way that we notice the leaves changing colour? Do we notice the shift from hearing singing robins to cawing blue jays? How often do we notice that the frogs have stopped serenading us and leaping about? These are ways that nature reminds us that change is constant. Yet, we seldom pause long enough to be with nature, let alone to pay attention to the implications of nature’s signals and reminders.

To me, understanding climate change is about reconnecting with ourselves. When I am in a constant state of doing, I disconnect from the earth. I run myself ragged with a constant state of busyness which begins to deplete my energy reserves. As my energy tank hits empty, I begin to push and berate myself for my lack of productivity. I begin to put eating and sleeping on the low-priority list, which perpetuates a cycle of distress, and leaves my body wide open for dis-ease.

The more dis-ease I feel, the poorer my choices become. I turn up less than a friend, a mother, a partner, and a community leader, and I become unavailable as a steward of the earth. When I lose my relationship with Earth, I lose my ability to heal. Healing with the earth is a relationship that requires presence—mine and Earth’s. When I am sick, so too are the plants and animals in my care. When I am well, I am supported by Earth’s rhythms and healing gifts.

Climate change, just like the moon’s cycles, is happening. You could debate whether climate change is a natural occurrence or man-made, but what you cannot deny, when you are one with the earth’s rhythms, is the feeling of a mother’s erratic heartbeat as she grieves, or the sight of seasonal changes in the plants and animals. And to see or feel these things, you must be present. Presence is impossible when you are in a constant state of motion. Presence requires slowing down and witnessing.

To find climate change is to learn the names of the 13 Moons, as spoken by Indigenous people in your area, and to witness the syrup run two weeks before its full moon or the blackberries ripen three weeks before their moon.

To find climate change is to notice, in your daily connection to the land, that the different black birds—crows, grackles, rusty blackbird, and redwing blackbird—have migrated 2 weeks earlier than usual.

To find climate change is to watch the frenetic pace at which mice and chipmunks forage, and the intensity of spiders eagerly trying to get indoors while it is still 30 degrees outdoors.

Change is constant, but if we have no awareness of what ‘constant’ even is—what it looks like and feels like—then we cannot possibly notice that it is change; therefore, making it easier to deny that we, as human beings, have any role in contributing to climate change or any need to help stop it. To be constantly unaware is like having a permission slip to ignore the aching heart of the earth. The price we pay is an aching in our own hearts. We are all connected, whether we want to be aware of the depth of our connection to each other or not. Where there are healthy people, there is a healthy natural environment. Regardless, the return to a healthy way of being must start with awareness—awareness of what is and what is not—and that can only happen when we reconnect to Earth’s rhythms of constant change.

 

By Tawny Stowe

(Photo Credit: Tawny Stowe)

The Indigenous World 2021 report released in April 2021 criticizes “building back better” COVID-19 economic national recovery policies world-wide as largely contradictory to climate recovery efforts. Economic recovery plans that prioritize large-scale infrastructure development and resource extraction over Indigenous sustainable development and regenerative practices work against efforts to slow down global warming; they further threaten Indigenous rights to land and ignore Indigenous experiences with COVID-19.

In April 2020, the planet experienced a 17% reduction in annual CO2 emissions, which if sustained over the next ten years could limit global warming to 1.5 oC set by the Paris Agreement. The 2021 IPCC Report, released on the International Day of the World’s Indigenous Peoples (August 9, 2021) pointed to human impacts on the future of the planet and to the vital role of Indigenous peoples to enhance climate efforts worldwide. However, the shift to online, virtual meetings due to COVID-19, resulted in a steep decline in Indigenous engagement in the United Nations sustainable development activities. In turn, local and national recognition of Indigenous peoples’ engagement in climate efforts is increasingly important during the pandemic.

In September 2021, in Canada, the rate of reported COVID-19 cases among First Nations people living on reserve was 3.5 times the respective rate of the general public.  Considering Indigenous experiences with COVID-19 and that Indigenous climate adaptation practices are foundational to the planet’s survival, Indigenous solutions must be supported in both climate and COVID-19 recovery plans.

 

By Leela Viswanathan

 

(Image credit: Brendan Beale, Unsplash)