Canadian Research Study Highlights the Risk of Flood Hazards to Indigenous Communities

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A recent study by researchers at the University of Waterloo examines flood risk as a climate change effect and its complex connection to socio-economic and population factors (or “social vulnerability”) in both Indigenous and non-Indigenous communities in Canada. The study concludes that while the percentage of Indigenous and non-Indigenous residences exposed to flood hazards is roughly the same, the numerous challenges facing Indigenous communities, as an impact of land dispossession and colonization, means “the overall risk of Indigenous communities is higher.”

The peer-reviewed study compares “flood risk between Indigenous communities on 985 reserve lands and other Canadian communities across 3701 census subdivisions” and integrates an analysis of “socio-economic, demographic, ethnic, and cultural characteristics.” Eighty-one percent of the Indigenous communities in the study were exposed to flood hazards which would impact either their land and residences or the overall population.

Typically, flood hazards are categorized as primary, secondary, or tertiary. Primary hazards are associated with flooding where there is direct contact with water (e.g., erosion of soil, buildings, and other infrastructure; water damage to buildings; flooding of farmlands resulting in crop loss; human and animal drownings). Secondary flood hazards are the result of the primary hazards and can include toxic pollutants released by garbage and backed-up debris in sewage drains (i.e., the debris being a primary effect), as well as numerous health effects and service disruptions. Tertiary flood hazards are the long-term effects of primary and secondary flood hazards.

 

By Leela Viswanathan

 

(Photo credit: Justin Wilkens, Unsplash)

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Inuit Coexistence with Polar Bears in the Context of Climate Change

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Polar bears and humans – especially Inuit – have a symbiotic relationship. This close relationship reveals the impact of climate change on both polar bears and Inuit, and points to the possibilities for climate adaptation.

Several compounding effects of climate threats experienced by polar bears and humans are highlighted by Polar Bears International. For example, climate warming largely created by human and industrial consumption of fossil fuels has led to longer seasonal periods where no Arctic ice is formed. Consequently, polar bears go through longer fasting periods, which in turn decreases the bear population. The potential for polar bear population collapse can be mitigated through conservation practices, including community-based wildlife management and conservation-hunting to counter overharvesting and unregulated commercial and sport hunting. These management practices would also contribute to “preserving the Inuit connection to the land and their cultural identity.”

As the Arctic becomes warmer, and at a fast rate, the relationship of polar bears – a predator at the top of the food chain – with birds and humans, changes. Melting sea ice results in polar bears spending more time on shore and this encourages the likelihood for conflicts with humans. Shrinking sea ice dramatically reduces the polar bears’ usual hunting range, such that the bears will hunt for food alternatives, like bird eggs, on the land. Climate change also slows down ocean currents and can contribute to extreme weather occurrences during the winter months. The wind and ocean currents carry high loads of toxicity and pollutants. When polar bears eat fish and seals, they “absorb [pollutants] at higher levels.” Reducing pollutants will help both the bears and humans, especially in the context weather extremes associated with climate change.

Canada is the home to two-thirds of the world’s polar bear population. Polar bears are a species of concern under Canada’s Species at Risk Act (SARA) and are a protected species under provincial and territorial legislation. Harvest management practices that adapt to climate change assist Inuit to maintain their cultural links with polar bears and other wildlife, and can facilitate the conservation of polar bear species in Canada. The International Union for Conservation and Nature has classified the polar bear as a vulnerable species.

Since 2016, the collaborative research project BEARWATCH has been monitoring the impacts of Arctic climate change through polar bear activity, genomics, and Traditional Ecological Knowledge in and around the Inuit community of Gjoa Haven, located on the southeast coast of King William Island, North of the Arctic Circle. The project’s team has developed a toolkit for analyzing the molecular composition of bear droppings, or bear “scat,” in order to better monitor the polar bear population and to support and sustain Indigenous community-based monitoring programs.

Facilitating meaningful engagement of Inuit in collaborative climate change research and policy development could not only bring recognition and respect for Inuit ways of knowing and livelihoods, but could also help to sustain the strong cultural, environmental, and economic connections between Inuit and polar bears.

By Leela Viswanathan

(Image Credit: Noaa, Unsplash)

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The Vulnerability of Birds to Climate Change Effects

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A multitude of bird species are vulnerable to climate change effects. Bird migration patterns are changing because of global warming, and the extinction rates of all kinds of birds are increasing worldwide due to climate change. The term “climate refugee” most often used to describe human beings who are displaced due to climate change is also being used to describe animals and birds displaced due to declining natural habitats. Some birds are migrating earlier in the Spring, while others are no longer migrating. For example, crows are expected to increase their ranges, other birds will see their territories shrink, and it is anticipated that some Arctic birds will have “nowhere else to go” as birds from southern regions migrate north to adapt to rising temperatures.

Land conservation and remediation efforts enable birds to adapt to climate change. At Walpole Island First Nation in Southern Ontario, efforts to re-establish the population of purple martins were put into place in 2009 after Elders shared stories that the Island was once a haven for the birds, yet there had been no sightings of the birds for decades. The Island is now home to hundreds of fledglings each year and is possibly the largest roost of purple martins in North America. Parks Canada is also working to establish areas with natural features (i.e., lakes, areas out of reach of wildfires, north-facing slopes) where birds will be able to find refuge in areas being called “climate refugia.”

 

By Leela Viswanathan

 

(Photo credit: Barth Bailey, Unsplash)

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Indigenous Peoples and the COP26 Decision

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Indigenous peoples were excluded from decision making processes at COP26 including the negotiations regarding Article 6 of the Paris Agreement. At the same time, Indigenous peoples were acknowledged and recognized in the COP26 Decision (unedited version), also referred to as the Glasgow Climate Pact. What does acknowledgement and recognition of Indigenous peoples look like in the COP26 Decision and what is the overall impact for Indigenous peoples?

Indigenous peoples are mentioned in the COP 26 Decision, starting with the preamble which notes, “Recognizing the important role of indigenous peoples, local communities and civil society, including youth and children, in addressing and responding to climate change, and highlighting the urgent need for multilevel and cooperative action…” and that parties acknowledge “their respective obligations on human rights, the right to health, the rights of indigenous peoples.”

In addition, the decision refers to Indigenous peoples in several sections, for signatories to:

  • Acknowledge “the important role of a broad range of stakeholders at the local, national and regional level, including indigenous peoples and local communities, in averting, minimizing and addressing loss and damage associated with the adverse effects of climate change.” (Section VI Loss and Damage).
  • Emphasize “the important role of indigenous peoples’ and local communities’ culture and knowledge in effective action on climate change, and urges Parties to actively involve indigenous peoples and local communities in designing and implementing climate action and to engage with the second three-year workplan for implementing the functions of the Local Communities and Indigenous Peoples Platform, for 2022–2024.”

In an article for The Guardian, Victoria Tauli-Corpuz, former UN Special Rapporteur on the rights of Indigenous Peoples and director of Tebtebba Foundation (Indigenous Peoples’ International Centre for Policy Research and Education), notes that too many disputes still linger between countries of the Global South and those of the Global North such that stipulations in the Paris Agreement are being implemented too slowly. Article 6 of the Paris Agreement focuses on carbon markets (i.e., the purchase and sale of credits by companies toward specific amounts of CO2 emissions). At COP26, Indigenous groups wanted to be included in the design and implementation of carbon offsets, have their rights protected, and be involved in setting up an “international grievance mechanism” should Indigenous “rights be violated in the implementation of Article 6.” Meanwhile, Indigenous knowledge and insight were excluded from Article 6 negotiations despite the oft-cited statistic that 80% of Earth’s biodiversity is found on Indigenous lands.

The exclusion of Indigenous peoples from decision making at COP26 is, by all accounts, a disappointment. Indigenous rights and title remain a priority among Indigenous land defenders as they combat climate change. As Tauli-Corpuz states in The Guardian, “We indigenous peoples will continue to do our duties and fulfil our obligations to Mother Earth and to our future generations. But we will be able to these better if our collective rights to our lands, territories and resources, to culture and to our traditional knowledge, practices and innovations are respected and protected.”

 

By Leela Viswanathan

 

(Photo Credit: Jonatan Pie, Unsplash)

 

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Indigenous Activism and Inclusion at COP26

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COP26 witnessed activism of Indigenous groups from around the world. However, Indigenous peoples were not included among all governmental delegations from Canada and other countries, and questions regarding fairness and justice toward Indigenous peoples, including women and youth, have been raised.

The Minga Indigena is “a grouping of collectives, organisations and communities from diverse Indigenous Nations throughout the American continent.” Minga Indigena confronts the “divide and conquer” mentality of colonialism and, at COP26, brought to the fore the environmental, social, and racial implications of the climate crisis.

Indigenous youth activists from around the world played a strong role in various fora at COP26. However, it was reported that Ruth Miller, a youth Dena’ina Athabascan and Climate Justice Director for Native Movement, a grassroots organization, was denied the platform to share their concerns and ideas with COP26 President Sharma; Miller was ultimately squeezed out “due to lack of time.” Sarah Hanson from Biigtigong Nishnaabeg  attended COP26 as youth intern for Indigenous Climate Action and offered reflections upon the community-based efforts of the Indigenous Peoples’ Caucus. Furthermore, Kahnawà:ke sent their first youth delegation to COP26 and shared insights into climate change including those from the Kahnawake Collective Impact.

Indigenous advocacy at COP 26 was crucial to create a forum for disenfranchised voices and to ensure that Indigenous-led climate solutions were presented; however, there is concern whether Indigenous voices will be heeded by signatories of the COP26 decision, beyond acts of recognition and acknowledgement in the Glasgow Climate Pact.

 

By Leela Viswanathan

 

(Photo Credit: Scott Umstattd, Unsplash)

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Climate Grief: The Emotional Impact of Climate Change

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Climate change triggers emotions. ‘Climate grief’ or ecological grief refers to the emotional response to the loss and anxiety associated with the “overall effects of climate change.” Climate change has an impact on human health—physical and mental. While the physical impacts of climate change have been linked to respiratory ailments, like asthma, because of air pollution and heatstroke, various psychological ailments and mental health concerns are emotional impacts of climate change and are often overlooked.

The uncertainty associated with climate change requires people to deal with changes that have already occurred, and with complex feelings of not knowing what additional changes will emerge in the future; this exacerbates anxiety and grief. Names for climate grief can take on regional terms. For example, “winter grief” is the grief of the loss of traditional winters due to climate change. “Snow anxiety,” and grappling with simultaneous feelings of “winter joy” and “snow relief” are some of the ways that Arctic communities express the spectrum of feelings associated with managing uncertainty in the landscape due to climate change.

Climate grief is prevalent in Arctic communities. The Inuit experience of “solastalgia”—a feeling of home sickness without ever leaving home”—is linked to the psychological impact of seeing the landscape of melting ice due to climate change. The unpredictability of the “shoulder season”—the period between hunting seasons—is a cause for worry among the Inuit. Fluctuations in the amount of snow in the winter and Spring temperatures make it increasingly difficult for Inuit to plan for their lives. With the melting ice limiting access to land and water, Inuit with otherwise strong cultural connections to the landscape are experiencing a form of seasonal affective disorder. The loss of one’s home and the shifting conditions for Arctic survival are feeding a sadness, on top of the impacts of colonialism, regarded by some as a social determinant of health.

Climate change effects also disrupt Indigenous knowledge systems and feed anxiety in the loss of one’s culture. Inuit fear loss of species if there is “no more sea ice” and loss of connection to the land. The cumulative loss of land over years for Inuit communities of Nunatsiavut, Labrador, Canada and the resultant loss of sense of place, are at the root of ecological grief, with the concomitant effect of loss of local knowledge.

The Climate Atlas recognizes how mental health impacts of climate change fall into three main categories: experiences of extreme weather events; experiences of environmental changes; and awareness of climate change experiences. Climate grief and distress affects all age groups. Author of “A Field Guide to Climate Anxiety,” Sarah Jaquette Ray notes that the population born “at the tail end of the Millennial generation,” also known as Generation Z or iGen, are “the first to have spent [their] entire lives with the effects of climate change,” and that everyone should mirror their tremendous energy and address climate distress by renewing one’s “commitment to climate advocacy.”

 

By Leela Viswanathan

 

(Image Credit: Jeremy Bishop, Unsplash)

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Indigenous water rights and climate change

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Indigenous water rights and climate change

Indigenous peoples continue to take action to protect their rights and access to clean water worldwide. Indigenous water rights are a crucial component to a global response to climate change.

Indigenous water management practices help to secure Indigenous water rights in the face of climate change effects. For example, in Ethiopia, the wells (Ella) in Borana and the pond (Harta) in Konso, have been managed by Indigenous communities for over five centuries. In addition, the Kankanaey people of the Philippines facilitate equitable distribution of water for agricultural irrigation through traditional water-sharing rituals.

Water is a human right and is recognized as a such by the United Nations International Covenant Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (ICESCR). According to the ICESCR, “Nations or “States” are expected to “provide resources for Indigenous peoples to design, deliver, and control their access to water.” Yet, at any given time, boiled water advisories for First Nations across Canada living on reserves are far too common an occurrence; the call for the governments to be held accountable continues.

The COP 26 UN Climate Change Conference is being hosted by the United Kingdom in partnership with Italy, from October 31 to November 12 presents another opportunity for the Facilitative Working Group (FWG) of the Local Communities and Indigenous Peoples’ Platform (LCIPP) to review the gains made and the challenges that remain to include the innovations of Indigenous peoples in protecting water rights and mitigating and adapting to climate change worldwide.

 

By Leela Viswanathan

 

(Image Credit: Anastasia Taioglou, Unsplash)

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Protecting coastal ecosystems, the world’s blue carbon sink

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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)

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Change is Constant

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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)

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Prioritizing COVID-19 recovery and climate recovery plans by Indigenous peoples

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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)

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