As global climate conferences continue to yield underwhelming results and leaders prove unwilling to take meaningful action, the task of activists fighting to protect the planet has become more wearisome than ever. Against these odds, can storytelling and a realisation of our limitations help keep climate justice hopes alive?

Janmejai Tiwari: Could you briefly introduce yourself and your activism work?

Bianca Castro: I’m a Portuguese climate justice activist. I currently work as the Deputy Programme leader of Roots, a global Greenpeace initiative that aims to catalyse the growth and impact of a Global South climate justice movement made up of intersectional and youth-led grassroots groups.

I started my activism back in 2019. I was one of the founders of Fridays for Future Portugal, when the movement was emerging globally, and I quickly went on to start organising campaigns on a European and international level.

Acting Out: Arts and Culture Under Pressure – Our latest print edition is out now!

Read it online or get your copy delivered straight to your door.

What exactly is community organising and what goals can it serve?

Community organising is key to achieving effective climate justice. At Roots, we create spaces where communities come together, strategise, and co-create and share their skills, knowledge, and stories. For example, we have organised Climate Justice Camps since 2022, where we bring together hundreds of young organisers, mostly from the Global South, creating a space where they can connect, network, strategise, and share knowledge, skills and stories of resistance.

Community organising can be a powerful tool for effective political and systemic change. We’ve seen this throughout history. A lot of women’s and labour rights come from community organising; so we know how powerful it can be. Coming together also helps to remind ourselves that we are not alone in the struggle for climate justice. We’re millions, and if we unite, our power can be stronger than the power of those who still prioritise profits.

How do you ensure that the voices of marginalised communities are amplified and not overshadowed?

This is a key issue in the climate movement and the media. The media rarely shares the stories of those who are on the frontline of the climate crisis. These people and communities need to be at the decision-making table, also because they often have the solutions for effective climate action. They should be the ones leading the way for the movement.

To get people to join the movement and organise with us, we need to appeal not only to their minds, but also to their hearts – and a lot of it has to do with telling stories, not only about the consequences of the climate crisis, but about what climate justice can look like. Unfortunately, we tend to find it hard to imagine a different world, because this is the dying world we live in, and we, as young people, are already facing some of the worst consequences of the climate crisis. But I think it’s really important to be able to imagine what climate justice would look and feel like. And a lot of it, for me, is about community. The way we feel when we are together with a community that fights for a fairer world is what climate justice can feel like as well.

We have many initiatives on storytelling. In the Climate Justice Camps, for instance, we organise what we call the LIVErary. There, people are like living books, and we create intimate, safe spaces where people can tell their stories to others.

Coming together helps remind ourselves that we are not alone in the struggle for climate justice. We’re millions, and our power can be stronger than those who still prioritise profits.

Is there a way to ensure that these moments of community organising translate into impactful climate action?

The Climate Justice Camp platform has already brought together over 1000 people, and we’ve seen how these gatherings became a springboard for youth-led coalitions, campaigns, and projects, from new NGOs being founded to people coming together to strategize. Some of the biggest actions that happened at COP27 and COP28 were initially designed at the camps. We are seeing the direct impact of community organising and sharing knowledge and skills with each other!

With Roots, we’ve also brought youth delegations to the last two COPs, not just for them to be there, but to mentor and guide them through how to do advocacy work at a global climate conference. What can you actually do? What can be your power here as a young person?

We also organise trainings all over the world, whether in person or online. We try to spread knowledge, do capacity building, and equip people with the necessary skills to train others. Our Training for Trainers enables youth organisers to use their skills and knowledge in their communities as well, so that we can spread it more and more.

The climate movement had a huge boost in 2019, but it started decades ago. As an activist, I see it as a living ecosystem, and I like to think of it in ecological terms: we have some who are more rebellious and organise non-violent direct action (NVDA) and civil disobedience, while others focus more on institutional and policy advocacy, and others still specialise in climate litigation, which is growing as a field. We are such a diverse community, but we all feed into each other’s work – the climate movement has a role for each of us. It has a role for people who want to use their talent for advocacy, those who want to take policy action, those who take to the streets. That’s part of the beauty of the movement.

You attended COP29 in Baku, participating in many activist actions. How do you evaluate the outcome of the conference?

In what was supposed to be the finance COP, the Global North betrayed the Global South yet again, failing to deliver the trillions demanded. The pledged 300 billion dollars by 2035 is a drop in the ocean compared to the trillions needed, and it disregards crucial quality aspects. To put this into perspective: global military spending reached a record 2.44 trillion dollars in 2023 alone. The money is there. It’s time to tax fossil fuels and the super-rich, redirect subsidies, and reallocate military budgets to fund climate justice – where the resources truly belong.

As I reflected on COP29, I was struck by the words an Indigenous activist shared during the People’s Plenary: “We gather here out of necessity. Necessity to ensure a more just world. A more sustainable world. A more peaceful world, where many worlds can exist in harmony with each other and with Mother Earth.” COP29 was a failure. But my hope lies in civil society. It lies in the organisers and activists from every corner of the globe, united by a shared sense of justice. We will continue to build our collective power, relentlessly organising both inside and outside these spaces, fighting to create a new, more just world.

The climate movement has a role for each of us.

COP29 wasn’t the first disappointing climate conference. Where does this leave us in the global fight against climate change?

After every COP we feel disappointed, and yet we come back because we keep fighting. We work our asses off, we barely sleep, and we leave a bit heartbroken because the decisions that we know need to be made are not made in this space.

A lot of the decision-makers who come to these conferences and negotiate are still putting profit above people’s lives. Every year, we see a huge number of fossil fuel lobbyists – 1770 of them registered to attend COP29. This is larger than all but three national delegations, and larger than the total number of delegates from the world’s 10 most climate-vulnerable countries. That’s just insane – and ironic, considering that one of the main goals of COP should be a fossil fuel phase-out.

By February 2025, countries also have to update their Nationally Determined Contributions (NDCs) under the terms of the Paris Agreement. If we want more ambitious climate commitments, developing countries need substantial climate finance to be able to achieve them. So I honestly find it heartbreaking that, COP after COP, the Global North just refuses to assume its historical responsibility and cancel its climate debt.

Climate activists go through a lot of mental stress and often experience burnout. How do you cope with that?

It’s easier said than done – I definitely struggle with it as well. COPs in particular are a time of the year in which we fight non-stop. But in activism spaces in general, there’s a bit of a burnout culture. We almost praise people for working too hard, and this is unfortunate, because yes, there’s no break in the fight for climate justice, but at the same time, we need to rest in order to continue.

I once had the privilege to talk to Rex Weiler, one of the founders of Greenpeace, and something he told me that stuck with me is that being a climate activist means focusing on the long run, and to be there in the long run, you need to rest. We need to know how to take breaks. We need to remind ourselves that we don’t need to be in every space, because if we are, there comes a moment where we just cannot be there anymore at all. Rest really is resistance, and so is finding the community feeling and a sense of collective ownership: it helps to find energy, because it reminds us that we are not alone in this. We are so many people fighting for the same thing, and we can support and take care of each other.