The Interlude

Maiza Lima stands at a parking lot ready for a morning of bouldering, or what the climbing model calls “pebble wrestling.” The iconic walls of Smith Rock, Oregon — often called the birthplace of American sport climbing — stand in front of her. Lima, an up-and-coming climber challenging exclusionary histories in the sport, kindly traded in her sport climbing ropes for crashpads to climb boulders with me and a few fellow inexperienced climbers who still lack the necessary rope skills to hop on Smith Rock’s sheer cliff faces.

Unconcerned with the rated difficulty of the routes, Lima constantly seeks a challenge. The morning is dotted with her laughter, words of encouragement and, “Let’s find something hard.” But Lima makes hard look easy. She climbs with grace, engaging every muscle and making movement look effortless. She has ascended in the climbing world with a similar semblance of effortlessness, but behind endless Instagram posts of smiles and success lies the challenge of injury, time constraints, and a white male-dominated culture that can be incredibly intimidating.

Lima, a social butterfly, sometimes finds herself working out hard routes alone. She described working on one of her hardest projects near Great Falls, Montana, where she now lives and is one of few women who climbs: “Nobody wanted to project it with me. I had to believe it by myself.” 

Originally from Alacilândia, a remote town in the Brazilian state of Pará, Lima moved to the Seattle area with her mother when she was 17. For Lima, rock climbing was a novelty of life in the Pacific Northwest. After first trying it in 2014, life quickly began to revolve around the sport. Lima made fast, impressive gains.

 “When I had the confidence that I could climb without crying on the wall,” she said, “it was the first time I realized I’m actually a strong climber.” 

Within one year of climbing, Lima scaled an outdoor 5.12, a milestone grade to which many sport climbers aspire. In sport climbing, difficulty ratings begin at 5.5 and go up to 5.15, and each grade is increasingly difficult. The climb, Culture Shock, was a breakthrough — confirmation she was strong and ready to set her sights on higher goals. Five years later, Lima took on her most challenging project yet: A 5.13B on Dante’s Wall in Montana’s Big Belt Mountains. Her successful ascent of that climb, Between Heaven and Hell, opened a floodgate of recognition and opportunities. 

But it isn’t just Lima’s athleticism that has drawn attention. Lima’s personable nature and fluency in connecting with others has made her a climbing role model for people across the climbing community — she shares frequent climbing updates with over 10,000 Instagram followers. Her sponsorships and climbing modeling have also made her a familiar face on content from brands like Marmot and La Sportiva. 

Though her relationship with brands has bolstered her visibility in the climbing world, Lima said such partnerships come with external expectations and awaken certain insecurities. 

“For me it’s not just about feeling accomplished,” she said, “but about climbing hard enough to feel confident around people and feel like I can do this, or I’m worth it, or I’m sponsored, but I know I can climb too.” 

Lately, Lima has been reflecting on her experience as a Black woman in the climbing world, using her platform to speak about the importance of inclusion in climbing and route development. She recently appeared in an REI short, “What’s in a Name?” where she explains the emotional challenges of facing routes with discriminatory names and shares her own process of naming a route she bolted and first ascended. She chose the name American Dream. 

 

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This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

When you started climbing, what was it that captivated you about the sport and made you keep coming back? 

Adrenaline. That was the first thing. It was a feeling that I never had before. Although you have fears and adrenaline, you also feel safe in a way. And pushing myself, being able to for the first time see myself as someone that was a strong person was captivating.

What does strength mean to you and how has climbing helped you discover strength within yourself? 

I never believed in myself in any way — I never played sports growing up because I never had the opportunity, but I always wanted to. It was hard to see myself as someone strong. I was the high heel, short dress party kind of person. It’s hard when you start climbing because the first thing you think is “I’m not strong enough.” But the more you start doing things, the more you believe you’re capable of being stronger. 

I have strengths I never knew about. In climbing you find different strengths. Some people, they’re really good at foot work. And it’s not just about physical strength — it’s personal strength — you can be good at foot work, good at crimping. I was good at pull-ups, so I was like, “that must be good for climbing somehow.” 

My confidence has grown one thousand percent after I started climbing and getting recognition for being strong or looking strong or pushing this sport for myself and for the Brazilian community, especially in Seattle. Because I was like the only one. 

There is a down side. A lot of my culture, people come to me and are like “you better stop climbing because you’re starting to look like a guy.” It’s not flattering to hear that. You feel ashamed and embarrassed and you look at your body differently, you never look good in a dress again, but I think it’s how you learn to look at yourself. This body takes me heights, and it’s amazing, and I love it the way it is. 

The climbing community is a pretty white- and male-dominated space. Did you ever feel intimidated by this as a new climber, or even now, and what or who has made you feel at home in the climbing world?

When I started, no. I looked up to anybody that could climb harder than me — never felt intimated, was just there for fun, trying to learn my best. More recently, I’m getting more intimidated. Because now people see me more. I have sponsors and people are trying to test me and see how hard I can climb and all these white dudes are strong and young and have been climbing forever and are supernatural, and they can outclimb me any day. That’s hard. I feel a lot of judgement and I’m struggling a lot, honestly, recently with that — mentally and physically — it affects you in so many ways.

But there’s also people that are there to support you, and amazing organizations like She Moves Mountains for example — they wanted me so bad because they wanted diverse guides and more diversity in climbing, and having diverse guides means that people feel safer coming to that space. I think there are amazing people doing great work out there and making sure to tell people that this is a safe space. But there’s always going to be the intimidation of people that are tall, strong, and can crush anything and are always trying to challenge you, “why can’t you climb harder, you’re sponsored and I’m not?” I think it’s always going to be like that.

So many things have changed with the pandemic. What have you reflected on in terms of your climbing from the past year, and what do you hope to take moving into the year ahead?

Last year was just tough, but because of the pandemic I was able to stay home and train. That’s when I sent my two hardest grades because I had consistency. That’s the most important thing in climbing — being consistent. 

After things got a little bit better, I was gone all fall doing one photoshoot after the other, traveling from one place to the other. I lost a lot of strength and a lot of — everything. Confidence? A lot of confidence goes away. I haven’t trained since I’m always gone, traveling, and so busy. I’m trying to learn how to balance a little bit more my life and only say yes to the right opportunities, not to everything.

I’m struggling right now a lot with learning how to make this a sustainable lifestyle, being gone for so long. I’m sitting here for a week being able to climb, why am I not incorporating training? I’m like, “I’m going to do that when I go home, but then I get home and want to go crazy and push myself way farther than I should, then I get injured. How can I balance this? I think, for me, most likely it’s getting a coach — someone who’s got more knowledge and can help me navigate this, because I don’t think I can do this by myself.

Who have been your climbing mentors throughout your climbing life?

I haven’t had one. I talk about this a lot because I’ve always been kind of on my own journey — never had anybody take me under their wings ever. I always say I would’ve been a way more stronger climber if I had someone who could teach me things about climbing that I didn’t know when I started, didn’t know until last year, and things that I still don’t know. When I learn them, I’m like, “If I knew this” — if I knew that bouldering was great, I would’ve started when I started climbing and incorporated it into my training, I would’ve been stronger since then, not  starting two years ago. I haven’t had anybody I can say is a mentor. Guess I’m still looking.

At this point you are a role model to other climbers – especially women in climbing and Latina women in climbing. What do you hope that other climbers draw from your own story and experiences?

To not take things for granted. Climbing is a privileged sport, and I’m very privileged to be able to climb. You have to have access to gear and access to the outdoors, and you have to travel and spend a lot of money whether or not you want it. There are ways to make it cheaper, that’s dirtbagging, and to be a dirtbag, you’re still privileged because you’re living out of your car, not having a job or a full-time job.

Growing up without having access to any sport, growing up in so much poverty, and now just having all this access — I want to make sure that people don’t take climbing for granted — or any sport, access to any sport for granted because it’s a huge privilege for us that we have that we have the outdoors. We’re destroying it in a sense, yes we are, but it’s what also brings joy to people, so there’s got to be a balance somewhere. I think, try to destroy less of the outdoors and not take it for granted. 

Content Warning: This article discusses miscarriages, violence against women, and abuse.

Green bandanas, posters, and shirts filled the streets of Mexico on September 7 after the nation’s supreme court unanimously ruled abortion is a constitutional right. The color has become a symbol of reproductive freedom in Latin America, with the Green Wave turning the tide once more. Mexico’s historic ruling has paved the way for expanding legal abortion access in one of the most dangerous regions in the world for anyone attempting to end a pregnancy.

I was lucky enough to see the green wave in action while studying in Buenos Aires, Argentina a few years ago. During a time in my undergraduate career where I felt lonely, unsure, and overwhelmed, the work of reproductive rights activists in the region trying to pass comprehensive abortion legislation empowered me. Screams and chants similar to a famous Chilean anti-rape song could be heard across the city. People of all kinds were covered in green and purple paint. Drum circles and dancing took place spontaneously — and all in front of the capitol building. Never had I felt more connected to my people as a first generation Latina, and as an aspiring lawyer who dreams of advocating for Latine communities.

News of Mexico’s ruling came just a week after the future of abortion rights came under siege in the neighboring United States. Texas Governor Greg Abbott signed Senate Bill 8 into law, banning doctors from performing abortions after approximately six weeks, when a “fetal heartbeat” is detected — a scientifically-incorrect term not recognized by the medical community. A beat is created by the heart’s cardiac valves, which do not exist in a six-week-old embryo, according to the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists. Regardless, under this law, private citizens can sue doctors or medical practices they believe are performing abortions that violate said law — including anyone who helped make the abortion possible, such as Uber drivers. The U.S. Supreme Court voted 5 – 4 not to block the law on September 1. 

In the past few years, reproductive rights  have been increasingly at risk in the United States. Lawmakers have proposed more abortion restrictions in 2021 than any other year in U.S. history, according to the Guttmacher Institute. More than 90 bills that would block abortions were introduced during the first half of the year alone. And this December, the future of Roe v. Wade will be decided in a Supreme Court case attempting to overturn the historic ruling. 

As clinics in Mexico prepare for an influx of patients who may cross the border from Texas to receive a legal abortion, it’s worth noting that the path to Mexico’s own abortion ruling has not been an easy one.

Despite being one of the first countries in Latin America to legalize abortion — under certain circumstances and only in certain cities — Mexican women have been criminalized for being accused of receiving an abortion for years. Between 2009 and 2011, more than 260 women faced incarceration after being accused of seeking an abortion, in some cases by medical providers or neighbors. Several of the accused women said they had actually suffered miscarriages. 

To make matters worse, many doctors in the region fear losing their medical licenses or being arrested for performing the procedure. Some not only refuse to perform abortions, but actually report potential patients to authorities simply for seeking help. Some of these patients are accused by their own doctors of purposely inducing a miscarriage without any proof. Others have been handcuffed to hospital beds while still in dire need of medical help. A few lucky patients flee the clinics before health officials are able to apprehend them, according to The New York Times.

Local collectives attempting to advance conversations about reproductive rights are appearing all over Mexico and other countries. But cultural taboos against abortion in most of Latin America compound the danger and stigma. 

Although I grew up in a matriarchal household, abortion was something we were not allowed to talk about. Even though I’m a feminist and wrote an entire thesis on abortion and media history in El Salvador, I know better than to mention abortion around older family members — unless I’m in the mood to get into a long-winded argument I’m destined to lose. 

Still, cultural norms in Latin America can evolve. Views on abortion in the region are continuously changing. International organizations are fighting for access to sex education across the region. Protests against femicide, violence against women, and in favor of reproductive rights occur often in Mexico, even during the pandemic. But, protesters are almost always brutalized by the state. In March, several activists were beaten violently by police and government officials during a protest on International Women’s Day — a celebration considered of extreme cultural importance in Latin America. A recent report from Amnesty International found that several protestors also faced sexual abuse from officers during other large protests against femicide. 

For decades, Mexico has been far more lenient with legal abortions than its neighbors. El Salvador has one of the most restrictive abortion laws in the world; many legislators have gone so far as to charge women who have suffered miscarriages with manslaughter. There are currently at least a dozen women serving life sentences in El Salvador for allegedly inducing a miscarriage. Guatemala and Honduras have similar policies on abortion. Honduras and El Salvador have prohibited abortion under any circumstances — including rape, incest, or threat to the mother’s life — since 1985 and 1998, respectively. The Dominican Republic and Haiti — two of the poorest countries in the region — also ban abortion under any circumstances. Haiti has one of the highest fertility rates in the world.  

The illegality of abortion disproportionately affects Latina women, especially those living in poverty. In El Salvador, nearly all of the 16 women currently serving life sentences for having alleged abortions come from the poorest regions of the country. Central American women also face disturbingly high rates of sexual assault, domestic violence, and rape —which affect both their ability to get an abortion and their reasons for wanting the procedure in the first place.

Other Latin American countries have taken a different approach by making great strides towards expanding access to abortion. Last year, Argentina voted to legalize abortion up to 14 weeks of pregnancy, a move which activists had been attempting to pass for decades. In Cuba, abortion has been decriminalized and available for free since 1965. Although conservative lawmakers in Puerto Rico recently threatened abortion rights, any local laws banning abortion are unenforceable due to Roe v. Wade. And in Uruguay, abortion has been legal until the first 12-14 weeks of gestation since 2012.

The shift in legislative and societal attitudes concerning abortion in Latin America has been a long awaited one. Despite most Central American countries celebrating their independence days during Hispanic Heritage Month, many marginalized Latines recognize that legal forces rooted in white supremacy and colonization continue to work against the most vulnerable populations of the region. Catholicism has a stronghold in nearly every country; many lawmakers blatantly intertwine the religion with their political viewpoints. More than 200 Indigenous environmental activists are murdered every year in Latin America for speaking out against harmful legislation. And machismo culture — rooted in patriarchal, colonial ideals — perpetuates the misogyny that leads to high rates of femicide in the region.

While guaranteed legal abortion in Mexico has just begun, the recent ruling offers an example for countries across Latin America. Thousands of people marched in dozens of Latin American countries on September 28 — the Global Day of Action for access to safe and legal abortion — in favor of reproductive rights. In recent years, Central American feminist groups have successfully fought for the release of some of the women incarcerated on abortion murder charges in El Salvador. 

The current state of our world makes it difficult to acknowledge the positive change and progress that so many of us continue to work towards — or at least it does for me. But, as a Latina who has long fought for a more inclusive Latin America, I know this ruling signals a brighter future for so many of us. The war may be far from over, but the battle in Mexico is definitely a win.

A professor from the University of Georgia resigned mid-class late last month when a student refused to properly wear a mask. The incident, first reported by UGA’s student newspaper The Red & Black, made national headlines and served as one of the first in a breakout of COVID-related back to school stories.

Irwin Bernstein, an 88-year-old retiree-rehire professor, was teaching his second class of the school year when a student who had been absent the day prior showed up without a mask on. Though UGA follows the University System of Georgia’s policies, which encourage mask-wearing indoors but does not allow the institutions to enact a mask or vaccine mandate, Bernstein had made his class aware of his personal “No Mask, No Class” policy.

“At that point I said that whereas I had risked my life to defend my country while in the Air Force, I was not willing to risk my life to teach a class with an unmasked student during this Pandemic,” Bernstein said in an email to The Red & Black. He had explained to the student that COVID-19 was a huge risk for him to contract because of underlying health conditions like age-related illness, Type 2 diabetes, and hypertension.

After the student repeatedly said she couldn’t breathe with the mask on and wouldn’t pull it up over her nose, Bernstein announced his resignation on the spot and left the class.

Bernstein’s resignation is one of many examples of how COVID-19 is affecting this back to school season. Even though many people are itching to return to a normal school experience, parents worry about their children’s safety as they return to in-person schooling. Polls conducted by USA Today suggested 41 percent of parents’ top concern is that their child will become severely ill if exposed to the coronavirus at school.

Their fears seem justified.

This week alone, pediatric cases of COVID-19 are hitting records. According to the American Academy of Pediatrics, weekly cases in children have soared past 250,000 for the first time since the beginning of the pandemic.

More children than ever before have been hospitalized for COVID-19, and on college campuses without mask or vaccine mandates, students and staff worried for their safety are speaking up.

On September 2, hundreds of Resident Assistants (RAs) from Stanford University went on an indefinite strike. The student staff organizers demanded that the university allow them to host virtual options for their events and raise their pay to meet peer institution’s rates. The strike came days after more than 100 students voiced their concerns about the in-person meetings and one RA tested positive after an in-person training event.

In Florida, after Republican governor Ron DeSantis issued an executive order that effectively banned schools from enforcing a mask mandate, 13 employees from Miami-Dade County Public Schools died after contracting COVID-19, including four teachers. Some Florida schools are openly defying this ban, and a state judge ruled that Florida had to stop enforcing the ban on mask mandates this week. Gov. DeSantis filed an emergency appeal. On Sept. 10, the court sided in his favor, which means schools can once again be penalized for requiring masks.  

The hunger to return to in-person learning is understandable. More than half of parents told USA Today that distanced or online learning caused their child to fall behind, and studies show it’s also led to a decline in children’s mental health. Our craving for normalcy isn’t unwarranted after this year. Even so, the delta variant is proving we aren’t as prepared to go back to school as we had hoped — and it will take stricter measures to return safely.

The COVID-19 pandemic heavily disrupted the lives of students across the globe. After nearly 18 months of enduring online learning and separation from peers, experts posit that students are, and will be for the foreseeable future, dealing with mental health issues and trauma symptoms such as increased anxiety, trouble sleeping, and substance abuse. 

For students who were set to graduate during the pandemic, there’s an extra layer of loss. The class of 2020 never got to walk across their graduation stage. The class of 2021 missed out on their senior year. And while the class of 2022 gets both, they are entering their final year of high school or college after completing only one full term of in-person schooling: freshman year. 

This year’s high school seniors were at the tail-end of their sophomore years when the United States shut down due to the coronavirus. At the time, they still could look forward to the potential of the classic high school experience: football games, school clubs, and prom. But as the pandemic worsened and the U.S. response continued to lack effectiveness, millions of students were stuck learning remotely through the 2020-2021 academic year. 

For high school senior Annalia, 17, doing junior year entirely online was difficult. She had been excited about becoming an upperclassman, but staying home meant missing out on typical school activities that defined that experience. 

“I have a lot of just incredible teachers, but being online really took away from their classes,” Annalia said. “And it was just hard because they’d be like, ‘Oh, in normal years, we would be doing this group project right now. But instead, you guys are going to be on a website,’ or something.”

Academically, returning to in-person learning for the 2021-2022 academic year felt like turning on a different part of her brain for the first time since March 2020. Getting used to waking up early and adjusting to a new workload was completely different, she said.

“It is definitely something that I feel like initially kind of hit me like a school bus,” Annalia said. “Because, you know, I have not been in-person since my sophomore year of high school. And then I walked back into the building as a senior — the oldest class — hadn’t seen all of these people since my sophomore year, which was really odd.”

High school senior Sophie, 17, said she also feels like she’s still a freshman. As a dual-enrollment student taking college classes online, she had been prepared to do at least part of her junior year online, but since her last normal year of high school was her freshman year,  she doesn’t quite feel like a senior.

“I downloaded Common App the other day, and I was looking at it, and I was like, ‘I’m almost 18,’” Sophie said. “It’s very weird just because the past year and a half has been spent indoors. It wasn’t really getting older and [having] new experiences — it was just sitting inside and waiting.”

Bella, 17, also completed her junior year of high school online. It wasn’t just the ordinary pressure of junior year, with AP classes, the SAT, and extracurriculars, that was stressful — having to stare at a screen for hours and hours at a time was mentally exhausting. She thinks there’s an immense amount of pressure on the class of 2022, as they’ve lost almost half of their high school years and now have to navigate a newly changed college admissions process.

“We hardly know what we are doing, and we’re faced with the constant question of whether or not we’re doing enough,” Bella said via text message. “And now more than ever, colleges being test optional means even more applicants, so we are rushing to try and make ourselves stand out in a rigorous process that seems designed to stamp out our individuality. It feels like we have to do everything in a world where we can hardly do anything.”

As high school seniors face the upcoming college application process, many college seniors are gearing up to apply for their first full-time jobs or graduate programs while returning to their campuses for the first time in more than a year. For them, missing out on what is often touted as “the best four years” of their lives has made the transition to quasi-normalcy somewhat jolting. 

Anushka Yadava, a senior at Hendrix College, said she feels just as uneasy on campus as freshmen do. She lived on campus during her junior year, but she primarily stayed in her apartment with her roommate, venturing out only for a few classes. 

She explained that because Hendrix is a small school, many social circles include people from different years. As older friends graduated and the pandemic largely prevented her from seeking out new ones, navigating the social realm has been difficult.

“You hear so much about the social aspect of college and how it’s supposed to be, you know, one of the best times of your life and you’re supposed to have so much fun.” Yadava said. “And I feel like we were totally, you know, stripped of that due to COVID…I don’t feel like I’m a senior. I don’t feel like I’m about to be done with college.” 

Yadava is a biochemistry and molecular biology major on the pre-med track. Before the pandemic, she planned to apply to medical school right after college. Now she wants to take a gap year. Yadava said she wants to travel after not being able to for more than a year and she hopes to teach English in Spain. 

“I think I’ve never talked to so many premed people who’ve been like, ‘Yeah, I’m going to take a gap year because we all, we haven’t really been exposed to the right experiences to feel like we’re prepared, you know,” Yadava said. “Lots of travel opportunities were taken away, which really sucks. And that’s primarily why I’m going to be taking a gap year.”

The class of 2022 also faces the daunting task of navigating the pandemic’s job market. Some, like Georgia State University senior Ariel Walter, are trying to look on the bright side of the situation.

“One good thing about it is that getting internships or looking for jobs, it’s kind of broader because now you have like a whole new branch of internships and jobs you can get that are remote,” Walter said. “So if I wanted to have an internship in California, I could still be here with the internship being remote, if that makes sense.”

Others, like Georgia Institute of Technology senior Aurian Fassih, have had a more difficult time with the pandemic’s job market because they have to navigate it nearly entirely online. He said he felt disconnected when preparing to get a job because it’s been challenging to reach out to people. 

“There was a online career fair, in fall of 2020, you know, for trying to get internships, and it was just very unnatural,” Fassih said. “It didn’t feel very comfortable to me to just talk to someone on Google Voice chat, about, you know, being interested in interning somewhere or getting a job somewhere. So it’s been a bit of a new process, for me at least, just because I was used to talking to people in person, getting interviewed in person.”

Despite missing nearly half of high school or college so far, the class of 2022 is still hoping to make the most out of their senior year. Annalia said she’s looking forward to going to football games and performing on stage with her friends again. And, of course, she’s excited for one of the most anticipated high school experiences.

“I’m so excited for prom,” Annalia said. “I went my freshman year, and I really thought I was going to get to go all four years, but then obviously, this happened. So I’m really excited for prom.”

Fassih is also hoping to catch up on the fun parts of college he missed out on. He wants to make the most out of his senior year by joining the clubs he was interested in before the pandemic — like his school’s radio station. Fassih was training to do shifts his sophomore year before the pandemic happened, and he now has to essentially start over.

“I’ve already reached out and I’m l going back to be a part of the radio as soon as I can, just because there are a lot of opportunities like that that I missed from being remote,” Fassih said. “So I want to seize as much as I can before I do graduate, which is pretty soon.”

Editor’s Note: This article identifies minors solely by first name for their protection.

When my parents first bought their house in a small town outside of Seattle 10 years ago, they were shocked to learn the house had air conditioning installed. It was a neat feature, sure, but it didn’t matter much anyway — western Washington never gets hot enough to warrant using more than a big box fan. 

10 years later, we ate our words. After two days of leaving it running, the air conditioning unit burned out from its sudden call to action. Seattle, a city known for its perpetual rain, suffered a record-breaking heat wave at the end of June. In the city’s 170 year history, it has recorded only three days at or above 100 degrees Fahrenheit. In one weekend this summer, Seattle surpassed this mark three times over three consecutive days.

“It’s crazy,” Emily Johnston, Communications Director at 350Seattle, told The Interlude in an email. “It’s not like a gear ratcheting up — it’s like the whole thing coming loose and unpredictable.”

This is part of a new, terrifying, life-changing normal throughout not only the Pacific Northwest, but the entire United States and across the globe. The effects of climate change are past “fast-approaching”; they are here. And the U.S. is vastly unprepared.

The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC)’s sixth annual report, which was released August 9, found that humans have caused the planet to warm about 1.1 degrees Celsius since the 19th century. Should that number reach 1.5 degrees Celsius, the consequences will be far more dangerous, with billions of people experiencing life-threatening heat waves, floods, and droughts. What’s more: coral reefs, ice caps, and even some plant and animal species will vanish. By the end of the century, extreme sea level events could happen every year, when previously they had occurred once in 100 years.

The United States will not even see the worst of climate change. Around the world, climate change will hit island countries and poorer nations the hardest, such as Haiti or the Bahamas.

It comes as no surprise that the IPCC report looks grim. A 2017 study found just 100 companies account for 71 percent of global emissions, while CO2 emissions from households only contribute about 10 percent. Through PR campaigns and the emergence of “green products”, these companies have dumped an unrealistic sense of personal responsibility on individual consumers when it comes to fighting climate change.

And the clock is ticking: It’s possible for us to prevent further warming, and maybe even work to reverse the damage that’s been done.

A region known largely through associations like Twilight, Seattle is often depicted as cold, gray, and wet. Western Washington does see about 155 days of rain a year, which keeps the forests and vegetation green essentially year-round. Recently, though, it’s undeniable that not even the Evergreen State is untouchable when it comes to climate change. Increasingly hot summers have led to worsening fire seasons and a higher risk of drought. The recent heatwave (and the one projected for this weekend) was just the icing on top.

Despite its rainy reputation, Seattle is actually drier than most cities on the East Coast. Karin Bumbaco, the Assistant State Climatologist at the Office of the Washington State Climatologist Cooperative Institute for Climate, Ocean, and Ecosystem Studies (or CICOES), explained that even though western Washington sees more days of rain on average, the amount of rainfall in total is less than you’d expect.

“There’s really not a lot of rain in the summer,” Bumbaco said. The snow that collects on mountaintops during the fall and winter (called snowpack) melts in spring and summer, running into streams and rivers, and is used as water supply during the dry season. “So that’s why we have such a booming agricultural region east of the Cascades in the Yakima Basin, because they will have the reservoirs…but also the snowpack stores that water for use during the dry season for agriculture.”

“But we’ve been so dry,” she continued, “and then this heat event on top of the dryness has really exacerbated some of the drought conditions that we’re seeing in eastern Washington.” As it’s been dry, Bumbaco said the “dryland agriculture has really been struggling. They’re the ones that they’re not irrigated. So they’re not using water from the mountains. They rely on what falls from the sky.”

In central and northern Washington, lower soil moistures and more dead trees make easy wildfire fuel, sparked by campfires, fireworks, or cigarettes. In the west, rivers and streams may dry up faster and make it harder for salmon, a keystone of the PNW ecosystem, to survive.

The environmental effects of global warming have become increasingly transparent here, as it has all over the globe. Fires have left yet another season of the Evergreen State gray. Last year, the area was engulfed in smoke for weeks due to wildfires. Authorities cautioned residents to stay inside as winds brought up smoke from Oregon wildfires that made the air hazardous to breathe. This year, the Bootleg fire has become the third-largest fire in the state’s history, and has even created its own weather.

Now, after the worst of the boiling temperatures have passed, it remains warm in western Washington. Maybe not warm enough to prompt people to sleep underneath a damp towel, but warm enough to be uncomfortably reminded that climate change isn’t something to worry about for future generations. It’s something to worry about now.

Bumbaco said she felt “disbelief” at the heat wave.

“Even though I work in this field, and have studied heatwaves for several years now, [I was] just surprised,” she said. “I mean, still surprised that it was this warm so soon, into what we have been calling our future.”

Despite the shock, Bumbaco still chooses to feel “hopeful” in terms of slowing the ravaging effects of climate change on the region. She thinks “if the right policies are put in place, we can reduce our greenhouse gas emissions globally and get back on track to a more what we would call normal climate in the future.”

Christopher Mejia, a comedian whose TikTok about the PNW heatwave went viral, is worried about what climate change will mean for future generations. Even though his viral TikTok was funny (it was so hot, Mejia said, that Seattle’s infrastructure was planned “by a drunk toddler playing SimCity on hard” and that “I have so much sweat on my chest that a babbling brook is forming”), the anxiety he has for the coming years is serious.

“The world we’re giving them is like passing down your son your Toyota Camry that has 100 miles left before it spontaneously combusts,” he wrote in an email. “I feel helpless.”

Temperatures above 100 degrees Fahrenheit are dangerous, especially for vulnerable groups such as unhoused people, lower-income people, and BIPOC communities. These groups are less likely to have AC in their houses or, as Johnston noted, to have access to greenspaces, parks, and beaches. 

New York City faced similarly high temperatures not long after the PNW heatwave, followed by heavy rains from Tropical Storm Elsa that flooded subway stations. Southern parts of the country have also taken their fair share of battering this year: Nearly 200 people died of causes related to the cold when Texas was hit with a massive winter storm this February, while thousands of other Texans saw massive power outages, burst pipes, and more. Texas’ reliance on its own power grid (which keeps the state from needing to follow federal regulations) exacerbated the effects of the recent winter storm. As the extreme weather conditions worsened, the grid was unable to withstand the cold, and Texans had nowhere else to turn to when they lost heat and electricity.

The common thread: a lack of necessary infrastructure installation. Even though every dollar spent saves $6 worth of future damage repair, plans to mitigate climate change are slow on the uptake. While politicians hammer out how much money they’re willing to invest on the planet’s ecological future, the world is changing before our eyes.

And the climate crisis will not deal out a fair hand. The rich get rich and the poor get poorer. Throughout the floods, fires, freezes, and fevers, the wealthy are more likely to stay comfortable, as they can afford homes with AC, heating, and, most importantly, the ability to flee (looking at you, Bezos).

It’s easy to feel overwhelmed when you’re enduring the effects of climate change firsthand, rather than reading about polar bears thousands of miles away. In fact, climate despair is normal when the news about global warming is consistently bad news. But just because it feels bleak does not mean that the end of the world is hurtling at us with no way of stopping it.

This is where we are less powerless than we may feel. We can, for instance, pressure our local officials, senators, and House representatives, urging them to move forward with the Green New Deal, or a federal clean electricity standard (which was left out of the new infrastructure bill), or to invest in making public transportation more widely available. We can also contribute to mutual aid groups and help those hit the hardest by these climate disasters.

Already, the stress for climate mitigation is creating change. The $1 trillion infrastructure deal, which passed yesterday in the Senate with a near-bipartisan 69-30 vote, is a sign change is possible. Though some initiatives were left out from the original proposal (including clean energy tax credits) or cut back, the newly-passed bill includes a very necessary $21 billion for environmental remediation projects, $73 billion for electric grids and power structures, and $55 billion for water systems and infrastructures. These are major steps in the right direction.

In Washington State, like many others who are rapidly facing the effects of climate change, the infrastructure bill couldn’t be more beneficial. With Senators Patty Murray and Maria Cantwell at the helm, the state is slated to receive billions of dollars to help mitigate global warming and upgrade infrastructure, including improving water storage, giving money to the Sound Transit system, and measures focused on salmon recovery. 

In the Pacific Northwest, the worst of the heatwave is over (for now, at least). While it’s cooled off, it’s time to turn the heat up on those who have the power to make meaningful progress against global disaster.

“If we have any care for anything, we have to do all that we can, right now,” 350Seattle’s Johnston wrote. She said she’s inspired by the hope that we still have time to make a better world.

“That’s what keeps me going even when things seem bleak,” she wrote. “That and the fact that I don’t want the evil, lying bastards in the fossil fuel industry to ‘win’ and destroy all that we care about in the process.”

New York Governor Andrew Cuomo announced Tuesday afternoon that he will resign in two weeks, following accusations of sexual harassment by 11 women.

Cuomo’s resignation comes after an investigation released last Tuesday found that the governor sexually harassed nearly a dozen people, including nine former and current state employees and a New York State Trooper.

“Given the circumstances, the best way I can help now is if I step aside and let government get back to government, and therefore that is what I’ll do,” Cuomo said during the televised address this morning. “Because I work for you, and doing the right thing is doing the right thing for you.”

After the investigation was made public, many top Democratic leaders, including House Speaker Nancy Pelosi and President Joe Biden, called on Cuomo to resign. Cuomo has continually denied the accusations, even after they were found credible, saying that “the facts are much different that what has been portrayed” before issuing his own report. 

Cuomo’s resignation helped avoid an impending impeachment trial and likely conviction. He today acknowledged some “mistakes,” but did not go so far as to concede to the allegations. 

“I want my three jewels to know this,” Cuomo said, addressing his daughters, who he said were often watching the accusations come in with him. “My greatest goal is for them to have a better future than the generations of women before them…I want them to know that I never did, and never would, intentionally disrespect a woman or treat any woman differently than I want them to be treated.”

Cuomo’s resignation takes effect in 14 days. New York State’s Lieutenant Governor, Kathy Hochul, will step into the role of governor, becoming New York’s first female governor. 

Content warning: This article mentions sexual abuse accountability. 

Morgan Burns has never been the president of anything in her life. Last year, the 21-year-old dancer graduated from the Tisch School of the Arts at New York University and planned to attend a dance school in Austria. But the pandemic changed all of that. 

Instead of carrying out her post-grad plan, last June Burns created an arts organization called the Collegiate Association for Artists of Color, where she now serves as president.

C.A.A.C. hosts virtual events and produces digital content that honors the intersectionality of artists’ identities. All of the work is done by artists of color from universities across the United States. These artists are either friends of Burns, people recommended to her, or just people they connected with online. In under a year the board of directors — four artists from the New York area — recruited a team of around 30. They also have an Instagram presence amounting to over 1,300 followers. 

“As people of color, we’re used to having to figure out our identity and voice in places created by white people,” Burns said. “But this is a POC-led space made for us by us.” 

Burns felt that as a Black woman attending a predominantly white institution (PWI), she wasn’t being heard or understood by the faculty the way she so “desperately” needed. So she carved a space where artists of color could just be, without feeling pressured to appeal to white people. Given that the pandemic has limited physical interactions, C.A.A.C. has become a virtually growing community of artists of color, who gather to gift their creative talents and express their artistic processes.

C.A.A.C. has hosted 22 virtual events since its launch in September. One recurring event, called the “Playroom,” is a space meant to embody the vibe of a coffee shop, where attendees can enjoy music performed over Zoom, do work or simply hangout. Others, like their “Converse and Celebrate” series, have encouraged discussions about how the identities of artists who are Black, Asian, Latinx, and multiracial impact their art.

This certainly isn’t the first organization dedicated to uplifting and amplifying people of color. C.A.A.C.’s “for us, by us” mantra probably sounds familiar because it’s been used to describe social clubs for people of color that have popped up in New York within the last eight years, such as the Brooklyn-based Ethel’s Club and The Gentlemen’s Factory. Both of these clubs served as an inspiration for C.A.A.C. Burns said. What separates C.A.A.C. from those clubs is that it is exclusively virtual and doesn’t require a membership fee to join.

Lauren Huynh, a 21-year-old dancer based in Texas, joined the group after discovering it through Instagram last July. During their launch week, Huynh hosted the “Speed Meeting” and “Converse and Celebrate” events. At Texas Christian University, where Huynh recently graduated from, she often felt like she had to scale herself back or stay quiet so that she didn’t offend her white peers. But at C.A.A.C., Huynh has found strength in her voice. 

“C.A.A.C. has served as a space where I don’t need to apologize for what I’m saying,” she said. “We can be angry together and that’s a liberating feeling.” 

The organization also organizes culture-specific events, which is what attracted India Stevenson, a 20-year-old aspiring filmmaker and student at Emory University. 

“I’ve always been someone that loved to engage with art but as a Black woman there are limited representations [of us],” Stevenson said at the Black History Month event hosted by C.A.A.C. 

Stevenson explained that she uses her art to bring stories of Black women to the forefront of the filmmaking and painting world. More importantly, she uses her creativity to express herself in ways words simply can’t. Ultimately, what she wants is for Black artists to be given the space to put out and discuss their art without being limited by white standards — something she believes C.A.A.C. does well. 

“C.A.A.C. really attempts to provide space for people of color to share and talk about their art and we need more of that,” Stevenson said over a Zoom interview.

For many artists of color, attending a PWI where one has to constantly shout to be heard by peers and professors alike can be exhausting. Burns and the team members of C.A.A.C. know this all too well and believe that there’s value in listening to each other talk about their art without it being a competition. Their goal is for discussions to be moments of reflection and healing where there are no limits on what can or cannot be shared.

C.A.A.C.’s mission of caring and responsibly valuing people was recently tested for the first time when it addressed sexual assault and rape allegations surrounding one of their team members in a lengthy Instagram post last month. In the statement, the organization announced that it does not condone rape, sexual assault, mental and physical abuse, manipulation deceit and rape apologists. It also stated that the member accused of these harmful actions was promptly removed from their team. 

“[C.A.A.C.] is a safe and supportive space, and we will always place our community first in everything that we do,” the announcement read in part.  

 

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Internally, Burns said she shared that leadership had been made aware of the sexual assault accusation made against the team member with the rest of the team before going public. Burns said she made sure to be mindful of all involved parties and did her best to address the situation head on such as listing organizations community members could donate to that support survivors of sexual assault in the statement. The mental health and educational organizations included were specifically catered to their general audience, most of whom identify as BIPOC. “I feel like it’s our duty,” Burns said, “not only as an educational organization but as a human being to be like, ‘Hey, here’s how we can be proactive in trying to eliminate this problem in the future.’”

Burns says that the true nature of the organization showed the evening the statement was drafted when her two other colleagues offered to lend a hand and support her in navigating how to move forward. “We’re really collaborative on every team,” Burns said. “It doesn’t matter the issue, we all sort of jump to get things done because we want to have each other’s backs.” 

After all, collaboration is at the heart of the organization, according to Burns. That’s why the organization partners with clubs from different universities to host events for community members to attend. One such example was in November, when C.A.A.C. held the event “Mixed MIC Night” in collaboration with Music Industry Club, a college club at Arizona State University. 

The club’s former treasurer, 22-year-old Indian-American Ethan Gershenfeld, had never really talked about his mixed identity with other artists until he attended that event. Mixed MIC Night’s purpose was to give multiracial artists a platform to present their art and discuss how their identity impacts their creativity.

“I don’t talk about my mixed background with people very often,” Gershenfeld said. “The event was a great way for me to touch base with that side of me, especially with other mixed artists.”

Before “Mixed MIC Night,” Gershen had never sought out a group of multiracial students at ASU. But after his experience with C.A.A.C, he is considering searching for similar spaces.

“We want people of color to know … they can use their creative voice to manifest a world where they see themselves in their art and in each other,” Burns said. 

Although Burns is still dedicating time to advancing her dancing career as well as dabbling in other forms of art, she says C.A.A.C. is now at the forefront of her work as an artist. This year C.A.A.C. is introducing merch, a podcast and digital zine, to be released in the coming months. The board of directors is currently in the process of applying to obtain 501 (c)(3) status to become a non-profit organization. While expenses are being paid out of pocket, C.A.A.C. has since opened a Venmo to receive donations. 

“I’ve always been the type of person that was like, ‘If I’m going to do it, I have to go above and beyond,” Burns said. 

In his inaugural address, President Joe Biden promised to address the “cascading crises” facing the country — a raging coronavirus pandemic, growing inequity, systemic racism, and a climate in crisis. 

While his administration has certainly stumbled on some, Biden has largely delivered on prioritizing environmental issues during his first 100 days in office. Vigorously leaning into his campaign promises, Biden put forth one of the most ambitious climate agendas in American history. But whether the president can sustain this momentum and enact long-lasting change remains to be seen.  

Biden began his time in the Oval Office with a flurry of executive orders meant to undo former President Donald Trump’s damaging legacy of striking major climate policies, deregulating the oil and gas industries, and rolling back regulations protecting the country’s air, water, and wildlife. In his first day on the job, Biden rejoined the Paris Agreement, cancelled the partially-completed Keystone XL pipeline, and directed agencies to reverse the more than 100 environmental rules struck under Trump’s tenure. While these big and splashy announcements were more symbolic than substantive, Biden showed that he plans to consider the climate crisis in every aspect of his policymaking.

As part this “whole-of-government” approach, Biden assembled a star-studded climate team: former Secretary of State John Kerry assumed the role of international special envoy on climate change; former administrator of the Environmental Protection Agency Gina McCarthy became the first White House domestic climate advisor; the former secretary of the North Carolina Department of Environmental Quality Michael Regan was tasked to rebuild the EPA; and former representative from New Mexico Deb Haaland became the first Native American cabinet member when she was confirmed as Interior Secretary. Policy advisors for climate have also been positioned at the Federal Reserve and the Treasury. 

In late March, Biden also unveiled his $2.3 trillion infrastructure proposal dubbed the American Jobs Plan — an infrastructure and green energy package aiming to reshape the nation’s economy. The president’s plan to invest in everything from roads and public transit to housing and clean water also includes an electricity standard that aims to zero out power sector emissions by 2035. “Investing in clean energy to fight the effects of climate change is part of infrastructure,” Biden said in remarks on the plan. And only a few weeks later, he pledged to cut U.S. greenhouse emission by at least half by 2030 ahead of a virtual climate summit held on Earth Day. This doubled the nation’s previous commitment, an important step that brings Biden closer to his ultimate goal of net-zero carbon emissions — a time when residual emissions of greenhouse gases are balanced by technologies removing them from the atmosphere — by 2050. (While net-zero and carbon removal proposals aren’t inherently unhelpful, experts say that they cannot be deployed at a vast enough scale needed to curb emissions quickly. They also reinforce the belief that technological advancement is the only way to mitigate the effects of climate change and diminish the sense of urgency of a warming planet.)

It seems that both domestically and globally, Biden wishes to convey one message: The United States is serious about climate change again. Response to his efforts have been mixed to say the least. 

The American Jobs Plan didn’t just attract ire from Republicans, but also progressive lawmakers and activists alike who are concerned that the package isn’t enough to adequately address all the issues it names. “This is not nearly enough,” tweeted Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (D-NY). “The important context here is that it’s $2.25T spread out over 10 years.”

The Interlude took a look at how Biden’s climate policies are being received across the country — in New York, Texas, and Oklahoma. While the overwhelming response was that the administration’s efforts are a good start, there is much more to be done in order to save the planet. 

 

 

Biden has come a long way since he introduced one of the first climate change legislation in the Senate in 1986, a bill calling for a national policy on climate change and annual reports to Congress. But, as The New Republic and E&E News have pointed out, the extent to which he played a large role in climate policy during the Obama years is unclear. In the past, he opposed tightening fuel efficiency standards and supported Obama’s “all-of-the-above” strategy which “left ample room for the fracking boom that bolstered one fossil fuel, natural gas, over another, coal,” according to Inside Climate News. 

Biden’s continued embrace of more progressive platforms — first as a primary candidate when he embraced the Green New Deal, later as he included some of Elizabeth Warren and Bernie Sander’s climate proposals, and now as president when he created the White House Environmental Justice Advisory Council and as he moves to cut fossil fuel emissions in half in eight years — has given activists hope. However, they remain cautious. 

“I have mixed emotions about the kind of sweeping climate orders,” said Tamara Toles O’Laughlin, a native New Yorker and national climate strategist with 20 years of experience. “They’re beautiful. Their language is strong. But what will the president actually be able to do? It will take a lot of strength and less bipartisanship. I’m very happy to have this administration. I fought to get this president into the White House. I’m saying this as someone who is really invested in the success of this administration, not just for 2022, but for 2030 and 2050.” 

Toles O’Laughlin emphasized that all broad federal programs must be implemented with care so as to not exclude Black, Indigenous, and chronically poor communities which have suffered at the forefront of the climate crisis for decades. Other environmental justice activists echo this sentiment: Biden’s approach needs to be laser-focused on lasting solutions that would ensure a just transition for communities that have suffered and/or are dependent on fossil fuels. 

“Not  all of those constituencies are as forward thinking as folks here in New York,” said Conor Bambrick, the director of climate policy at the Environmental Advocates of New York. “We’ll see some industry proposals and false climate solutions bubble up. But, I’m hopeful that the administration and the Democratic leaders in Congress can minimize (their) effects and put climate and environmental justice issues front and center.”

Alongside the federal push, environmental advocates in New York know that the state must achieve its own climate goals. Peter Iwanowicz, the executive director of Environmental Advocates New York told Spectrum News that “New York must not fail to achieve its 2030 target” as there is “no time left for incrementalism or false solutions.” While states like New York and California can certainly help Biden, he might not find as strong of an ally elsewhere. 

 

 

Earlier this year, snow blanketed much of Texas as a category three storm, a symptom of a rapidly warming planet, descended on much of the southern United States. Temperatures plunged to near single digits, the state’s electrical grid operator lost control of the power supply, coal and gas power stations, nuclear facilities, and wind turbines broke down, and millions of Texans were left without power. The culprit: an extremely unusual snowstorm, exacerbated by climate change, overwhelmed a poorly operated grid, layering one crisis over another. 

Texas’ isolated energy grid — created to evade federal regulation and limited oversight of companies that generate power — was unable to import energy, leaving operators to choose which Texans received power. While the blackouts left millions without light, heat, and water, many marginalized and poorer communities were hit the hardest and left without power the longest. Many of them would die of hypothermia, carbon monoxide poisoning, and loss of power connected to life-sustaining medical devices. Almost two months later, an investigation by the Houston Chronicle found that nearly 200 people had lost their lives during the snowstorm, double the state’s official estimate. 

But Texas Republicans — including Gov. Greg Abbott — were quick to blame frozen wind turbines. In an interview with Sean Hannity amidst the crisis, Abbott ignored experts who agree that energy powered by fossil fuels was the biggest culprit behind the blackouts. Instead, the governor decried the Green New Deal, calling it “deadly.” Environmental advocates strongly disagree.

“The big question on everyone’s mind is: what steps can we take to secure our electric system so this doesn’t happen in the future?” said Kevin Richardson, the program coordinator at Texas Campaign for the Environment. “The state’s energy grid is not connected to the two other main ones in the U.S.. That’s a big problem. We need to reconnect the grid. We need to push for large scale energy efficiency programs, expand solar, wind, and battery storage. These are the most efficient and cheapest sources of [energy].” 

Richardson praised the federal government’s response to the crisis as well as its overall performance during these first few months. While he is encouraged by the Biden administration’s proactive approach, Richardson is apprehensive about the pushback on progressive policies at the state level. Getting state and city legislators to work with the federal government will be only one of the major hurdles the Biden administration needs to overcome if it intends to enact lasting change, protect the environment, and uplift communities across the country. 

“At the state level, [the politics] are controlled by politicians who actively want to stop climate policies,” said Richardson. “And as organizers, we can never let up, never assume that the government is going to take care of things for us. We have to keep organizing, keep pressing, and making sure that they’re doing the right things all the way through.” 

 

 

Building on its campaign promises, the Biden administration has certainly made strides to prioritize environmental justice and address environmental racism. Just one week after his inauguration, Biden signed an executive order that created a White House Environmental Justice Interagency Council and an Environmental Justice Advisory Council, signaling a government-wide push. The order includes the Justice40 Initiative, which aims to deliver “40 percent of all benefits of relevant federal investments to disadvantaged communities.” Around the same time, Biden also signed a presidential memorandum that requires executive agencies to engage in “regular, meaningful, and robust consultation with Tribal officials” as a way to strengthen the federal government’s relationship with Indigenous nations across the country while fighting climate change.

The challenge now facing the administration is to follow through on these commitments. And Indigenous activists are already noticing some gaps between Biden’s promises and policy, pointing out, for example, that the administration currently doesn’t support a shutdown of the Dakota Access pipeline despite the fact that the project lacks a key federal permit. 

And much like the environmental advocates in Texas, Indigenous activists in Oklahoma are working to hold the Biden administration accountable to its campaign promises and initial sweeping orders through educating, organizing, and coalition building. For Ashley McCray Engle, Green New Deal Organizer at the Indigenous Environmental Network, there are two interwoven focal points where the administration is falling short: effective climate change solutions and tribal sovereignty.  

“We do have more access to the Biden administration,” said McCray Engle. “They are listening to our communities and many of us do have seats at various tables. We are very happy about [Biden’s] decision to rescind the Keystone XL pipeline, but at the same time we’re concerned about him opening the door to what we consider false, neoliberal solutions.” 

One of the neoliberal solutions, according to McCray Engle, is carbon pricing. Although no public proposal has been made yet, Presidential Climate Envoy Kerry said that Biden is open to the idea of carbon pricing, a market-driven measure that would apply monetary cost to carbon pollution as a way to encourage polluters to reduce their emissions. Commonly referred to as a carbon tax, carbon pricing can also be a requirement to purchase permits to emit, which doesn’t really bring overall emissions down. Many experts and activists, including McCray Engle, believe carbon pricing to be a false solution that could further harm vulnerable communities. In the words of Mary Pham, a federal policy fellow at WE ACT, the mechanism “favors economic efficiency over distributional equity” as it offers major polluters the opportunity to carve out a least-cost path while still spewing dangerous pollutants that then harm the people which have already been overburdened by the effects of climate change. 

McCray Engle’s second major concern is Biden’s approach to meaningful tribal consultation — an attempt at the free, prior and informed consent process recognized in the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples that allows indigenous peoples to give or withhold consent to a project that may affect their communities or lands. 

According to McCray Engle, Biden’s memorandum on tribal consultation isn’t enough. While she recognizes his efforts to include Indigenous voices, McCray Engle believes that it’s a mistake to allow federal agencies to decide what a “meaningful consultation” with Indigenous communities looks like, especially considering the country’s past of breaking treaties or turning back on what was originally agreed upon, therefore impacting tribal sovereignty.

“Some consider a piece of paper ‘consultation’ and oftentimes that’s also a substitute for consent,” they said. “President Biden had a grand opportunity to go a step further, recognize that we need to uphold the treaties by engaging in free, prior, and informed consent with all the different tribal nations and land that will be impacted by some of these decisions that are being made on the federal level.”

American schoolchildren have been suffering through the pandemic. Trying to learn while facing poor internet, loss of income, or mental health challenges could have long-term effects on Gen Z students. And many college students and recent graduates were confronted with a loss of income while trying to pay off their loans. So when he won the 2020 presidential election, Joe Biden’s message was clear: he wanted to safely get kids back in school as soon as possible.

The American Rescue Plan, Biden’s $1.9 trillion economic stimulus package designed to help the U.S. recover from the impacts of COVID-19, allotted $122 billion in total to K-12 schools through the Elementary and Secondary School Emergency Relief Fund (ESSER II), a funding pool originally established under the CARES Act. He also extended the pause on student loan debt repayments, and his administration is working to address student debt, though not necessarily to the extent progressives would like to see.

Biden planned to open most K-8 schools across the nation during his first 100 days in office. It is difficult to judge whether he has been successful given that his administration never clarified what constituted an “open” school. Education Secretary Miguel Cardona, a seasoned educator who was confirmed to his role on March 1, has spearheaded the administration’s efforts to get as many kids as possible back in physical classrooms. 

But a survey released by the administration on April 7 showed underwhelming progress, as February’s in-person school options were nearly identical to January’s. Nearly 46 percent of public schools offered five days a week of in-person learning to all students in February, but only 34 percent of students were actually exercising this option, according to the Associated Press. Though some schools have had COVID-19 outbreaks, in-person learning has not been associated with major community transmission, according to a CDC brief.  A slight shift among eighth-graders from fully-remote to hybrid learning provided a glimmer of hope for Biden, but overall, the process of reopening schools has proven both difficult and controversial. 

The American Rescue Plan’s funding toward K-12 schools is supplemented by an additional $10 billion provided by the Department of Health and Human Services for COVID-19 testing in schools. The ESSER funds are specifically meant to support physical school reopenings in a number of ways, from improving building ventilation to funding in-person summer and afterschool enrichment programs. 

Mark Klaisner, president of The Illinois Association of Regional Superintendents of School (IARSS), explained that like Biden, Illinois state officials, including the state superintendent and governor, expect that schools across the state will fully reopen in the fall.

“At this point, we have 852 districts in Illinois. As of yesterday, only 12 are still fully remote and the vast majority are hybrid. About a quarter of our districts are fully in-person, so we are moving in that direction,” Klaisner told The Interlude. “We’re looking at using the money from President Biden’s stimulus work to do learning loss recovery in the summer. Our state superintendent is developing a tutoring program to try to intensify tutoring and support for kids.”

Klaisner said that Illinois school superintendents were pleasantly surprised by the amount of money that was allocated in ESSER II funding. The challenge is that school administrators want to ensure they spend the money well, investing in short-term projects like capital improvements, rather than building this spending into annual district budgets by funding long-term projects that will need to be sustained. 

“We know that we’re expecting a similar amount [of funding] right before the opening of the school year,” Klaisner said. “ESSER III will be roughly the same amount of dollars as ESSER II. ESSER I and II had a lot of flexibility, which is fabulous. We’ve got schools in our state that are a year old and we’ve got other schools that are 100 years old, so there are different needs in different corners of the state.” 

While Illinois educators are glad to receive the incremental funding, others have expressed frustration with the Biden administration’s insistence that standardized testing continue this spring. Illinois is one of several states that petitioned the administration in February for a waiver that would exempt them from administering the exams. Education officials in the state argued that the tests would detract from instructional time and pose challenges for the large number of students who are still learning remotely.

Klaisner described the state’s opposition to spring testing as rooted in “logistics, philosophy, and pedagogy.” Now that the administration has denied the waiver petitions, testing must take place. Klaisner noted that Illinois schools could lose about a billion dollars in federal funding if they do not comply with the universal testing requirement to which that “title” money is tied.

Klaisner also said that the conversation around how to allocate ESSER funding has prompted a broader discussion in the education community about the need for states to continue funding schools on an ongoing basis independent of the pandemic. And the current administration seems to also have this in mind. President Biden’s proposed $2.3 billion American Jobs Act considers education to be a crucial aspect of infrastructure — the bill includes a substantial increase in the Department of Education budget, partly for school construction, a measure that is unlikely to receive Republican support. 

Arizona State Representative Judy Schwiebert, a lifelong educator, began her first term in elected office this January. She expressed the need for long-term investments to improve infrastructure in public schools, saying that Republicans in the state have elected to fund private schools with taxpayer dollars instead. (In February, the Arizona State Senate approved an expansion of its school voucher program that would allow parents to use public funds on private schools.) 

“Arizona has long-term education issues because of Republican legislators who have put their own agenda to privatize education ahead of the needs of the 90 percent of students who choose our public schools,” Schwiebert said in an email to The Interlude. “As a result, children in about 1,800 classrooms across the state had no permanent, qualified teacher, and school buildings are crumbling — and that was before the pandemic.” 

The Biden administration spent its first 100 days trying to meet its goal of resuming in-person learning across the country as soon as possible. While that target still remains unmet, the administration is moving forward with its ambitious plans to increase federal funding. Building the consensus they need with Republicans to achieve a more lasting increase in education funding will likely prove to be even more challenging.

And this funding challenge extends to a hot button issue for higher education: student loan debt. The total student loan debt in the U.S. is $1.71 trillion, and during the 2020 Democratic primary campaigns, progressive candidates Elizabeth Warren and Bernie Sanders both advocated for cancelling student loan debt for most or all college graduates. During the campaign, Biden proposed plans to eliminate a portion of federal student debt. 

On his very first day in office, he extended the moratorium on federal student loan payments and interest to September 30, 2021, through an executive order. He then signed into law the American Rescue Plan, which exempts student loan cancellation from being taxed through 2025. 

Since then, Education Secretary Cardona has announced a number of individual student debt relief measures, including a change to the Borrower Defense to Repayment program resulting in student loan debt cancellation for 72,000 borrowers and the easing of onerous requirements for borrowers who have had their loans forgiven due to medical disability. The administration also forgave $1 billion in loans for students who were defrauded by for-profit colleges. Despite taking numerous actions that help disparate groups of borrowers, the administration has not granted any blanket forgiveness of student loan debt.

Prominent scholars argue that eliminating student loan debt would help close the racial wealth gap in the U.S. On the campaign trail, Biden advocated for cancelling $10,000 of student loan debt per borrower, a fraction of the $50,000 per borrower cancellation more progressive Democrats, including Senate majority leader Chuck Schumer, have called for. Biden has argued in the past that he does not have legal authority to cancel $50,000 per borrower by executive action, but that a $10,000 cancellation is likely to receive Congressional approval. In a February town hall, he defended his opposition to the larger cancellation, saying he does not support eliminating debt for “people who have gone to Harvard and Yale,” though Ivy League graduates account for only 0.2% of the U.S. population.

He appeared to change course on April 1 when he tasked Cardona with investigating whether he has the legal basis to enact a $50,000 blanket cancellation. While the Department of Education has yet to reveal its findings, the consideration gives hope to students, who on average hold $37,000 in educational debt. 

Nick Hillman, a professor at the University of Wisconsin-Madison who specializes in higher education finance, thinks it is difficult to pick a “magic number” for how much debt per borrower should be cancelled. 

“There’s research consensus that the borrowers who are objectively struggling the most, by and large, have small debts less than $10,000. Because of that, I think that you score a point for the $10,000 side of the debate, and I don’t think there really are any academics who would quibble about it,” Hillman said. “But it’s tricky, because that’s just simply based off of the numbers, and it’s not looking at all the people [who comprise] those numbers. That’s where you score a point on the $50,000 side, because researchers are looking at the ends of the distribution [of borrowers] and they’re saying, ‘Wait a second, there are a lot of people of color, and Black borrowers in particular, who could benefit from even more generous cancellation.’”

While Biden has not voiced support for progressive proposals on student debt, he issued an executive order in early March to ensure a discrimination-free educational environment on the basis of sex, which specifically extended protections to LGBTQ+ people. He has also initiated a review process of the Trump administration’s Title IX policies, which former Education Secretary Betsy DeVos implemented. DeVos increased the burden of proof required to adjudicate sexual assault claims and reduced the liability of colleges in investigating these claims. Biden said DeVos’ policies, which rolled back Obama-era rules, constituted an effort to “shame and silence survivors” of sexual assault.

Nolan Cabrera, a professor of higher education at the University of Arizona, believes that despite the early action taken to re-evaluate Title IX, the Biden administration is not going far enough when it comes to addressing issues of equity. Cabrera said that while Biden has proposed reducing the cost of community college and supporting historically Black colleges and universities, the administration should be implementing more “overtly equity-oriented” policies, such as investing in Hispanic-serving institutions and tribal colleges and universities and protecting undocumented students.

“The theme right now of the Biden administration seems to be not so much that he really wants to fundamentally transform or radically reimagine any of the practices in education and his policy agenda as a whole,” Cabrera said, “but that he is basically just trying to take a lot of the pressure off that the previous administration was putting on.”

The COVID era has felt like several years squished into one. The United States’ abysmal COVID-19 infection and death rates set it apart from much of the world for much of 2020. But now that America has transitioned in leadership, this new administration translates to a new crisis management strategy. 

The Biden administration has worked heavily on aspects of the pandemic within federal control: quickening vaccine distribution, mandating vaccine availability deadlines, and allocating federal funds to the nationwide vaccination effort — ultimately accomplishing the goal of getting 100 million people at least partially vaccinated within the first 100 days of his presidency. Meanwhile, individual choice and varying state regulations leave the public in varying levels of public health progress, depending on what state someone lives in.

When Biden came into office, the country was on the downbend of the biggest peak in cases we had experienced within the pandemic. Former President Donald Trump had previously let states restrict normal activity as little or as much as they wished. He also treated the pandemic as an eventual distraction to deal with, making sure to stop his administration from even sending masks to every American household. While Biden inherited these circumstances, he came at the right moment. Two vaccines, made by Pfizer and Moderna using scientifically groundbreaking mRNA technology, received emergency use authorization from the Food and Drug Administration right before Biden entered office, allowing him to build off the push Trump gave to Operation Warp Speed that allowed quick development in COVID vaccine research.

However, vaccines were (and continue to be) politicized as untrustworthy, despite Trump, one of the vaccine’s loudest critics, receiving one of the first doses of the vaccines in January. But on Biden’s first day in office, he issued executive orders focused on improving vaccine distribution, expanding COVID testing, and reopening schools. The president’s immediate focus on efficiency in logistics filled his first 100 days with extensive progress despite pushback from the American public.

Now, the country’s public health state has transformed. Every adult in America is now eligible to receive a COVID-19 vaccine. A year ago, it was incredibly difficult for most Americans to even receive a COVID test. But as of May 2, 69.6 percent of Americans above the age of 65 are fully vaccinated and 44.3 percent of all American adults have received at least one dose. And in addition to now having a leadership example that encourages following Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) guidelines to minimize spread, COVID testing is widely available for free to anyone who has been exposed to the disease. The country is well on its way to lowering rates of spread.

Officials also implemented policies that helped alleviate the suffering COVID was putting on the American public. Regarding policies, the administration gave businesses a tax break to encourage them to allow their employees to take time off to obtain COVID vaccine protection. The White House gave $1.7 billion dollars to the CDC to learn more about various COVID variants. Additionally, Biden signed the American Rescue Plan of 2021, a bill that provided funding for COVID testing to help schools reopen, among other types of assistance. But, it did not include Biden’s promised $2,000 stimulus checks — instead, it provided $1,400 checks, explaining it away by saying it built on the initial $600 payments made in December. 

With full hands, the new administration went full throttle on fulfilling its campaign promises. Biden invested billions into expanding COVID testing. He used the Defense Protection Act to expand supply of personal protective equipment. Biden superseded his promises in ways that expedited the process of the United States being able to loosen COVID restrictions, allowing higher indoor capacity for businesses and easing the standards for when masks are required to be worn.

However, vaccine rollouts suffered from disparities in access and equity, as it was primarily left to the states to decide which populations would receive doses and when. Elderly people have a hard time gaining vaccine appointments due to unfamiliarity with technology. And regardless of placement of the vaccine site, white people have much higher rates of being vaccinated than minorities. Minorities have a hard time getting vaccine appointments for plenty of reasons, ranging from language barriers to struggles with being able to get time off to receive doses. Latinx communities in particular fear that attending an appointment would mean that their immigration status would have to be reviewed.

Global vaccine inequality also resurfaced as a hot-button issue when India’s COVID-19 case and death rates shot up in late April, becoming the world’s worst pandemic wave. Amid pressure to waive COVID vaccine patents, U.S. Trade Representative Katherine Tai announced the Biden-Harris administration’s support for the move, which could allow more companies to begin manufacturing vaccines (though it’s faced pushback from the European Union).

And on top of these disparities, vaccine hesitancy in the U.S. continues to be a concern regarding vaccine access. Minority and white evangelical communities have been hesitant to obtain the vaccine, even when granted eligibility. Within evangelical circles, there is a distrust of the federal government alongside a high amount of misinformation being shared about the vaccine. History of medical discrimination and malpractice has also made some minorities hesitant to trust the safety of a newly developed medical treatment that was only emergency approved. Public health efforts still have to be made to connect with these communities and share the truth about the vaccines from members of these groups that are also heavily involved in the medical and public health fields.

Vaccine distribution inequities and hesitancy will have ramifications on reaching herd immunity, or when enough of the population has enough antibodies — either through previous infection or through vaccinations — that the rest of the population is protected. Having as many vaccinated as quickly as possible will guarantee there is a much lower amount of hospitalizations and deaths despite infection rates. Based on current vaccination rates, America could have 70% of adults vaccinated by the end of July and 85% by the end of September. 

But Dr. Jessica Justman, a senior technical director at Columbia University’s Mailman School of Public Health, says that vaccines alone won’t bring herd immunity. 

“Nothing is guaranteed, but the key factors that will work together to bring America to herd immunity are higher vaccination rates coupled with decentralized grass-roots and community vaccine campaigns,” Justman said. “Non-pharmacologic interventions in settings where people are being vaccinated less will also help.”

Slowly but surely, things are getting better. The messaging of the past that downplayed the significance of the pandemic elongated the suffering the American public had to endure. But a new emphasis on masks, plus the push for the distribution of vaccines allowed America to turn a new leaf. 

“Of course COVID vaccine development work and the planning for vaccine rollout began during the prior administration,“ Justman said. “But the Biden administration has done really well overall with handling the COVID pandemic.”

On Tuesday night, a gunman killed eight people — six of whom were Asian women — in a shooting spree at three Asian-owned spas and massage parlors in the Atlanta area. The incident has sparked outrage amid a year of heightened violent hate crimes against Asian Americans, partially motivated by xenophobic Covid-19 fears. But Asian Americans across the country are also speaking up about how the Atlanta shooting is a byproduct of America’s history of racism against the community. The Interlude staff has compiled resources for Asian Americans and allies to report hate crimes, take care of their mental health, support Asian businesses, and better understand the history of discrimination against Asian Americans.

How to Report a Hate Crime

• Stop AAPI Hate: https://stopaapihate.org/
• VictimConnectHotline: 1-855-4-VICTIM or https://chat.victimsofcrime.org/victim-connect/
• U.S. Commission on Civil Rights: https://www.usccr.gov/filing/index.php
• National Center for Victims of Crime: 1-202-467-8700
• Asian Americans Advancing Justice: https://www.standagainsthatred.org/
• The Asian American Legal Defense and Education Fund: https://www.aaldef.org/
• Asian American Commission: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSeITSTOboyzc0SpwPasU_r7yaR8qWtv0F3wRYUB7G6Q8z0AMA/viewform
• FBI online tips form: https://tips.fbi.gov/ (or call your local FBI field office https://www.fbi.gov/contact-us/field-offices)

Mental Health Resources

• APISAA Therapist Directory from the Asian Mental Health Collective: https://www.asianmhc.org/apisaa
• Mental health organizations’ directory across the U.S.
• National Asian American Pacific Islander Mental Health Association AANHPI Service Providers in all 50 States: https://www.naapimha.org/aanhpi-service-providers
• Mental health toolkits from the Asian American Health Initiative
• Mental Health Toolkit 1: Staying Well and Living Fully
• Mental Health Toolkit 2: Getting the Care You Need
• Boston College’s Racial Trauma Toolkit: https://www.bc.edu/bc-web/schools/lynch-school/sites/isprc/isprc-advisory-board.html

Donations, Mutual Aid Funds, and Petitions

• Asian American Advocacy Fund: https://www.asianamericanadvocacyfund.org/contribute
• Hate is a Virus Community Fund: https://hateisavirus.org/
• Save Our Chinatowns: https://www.saveourchinatowns.org/
• Send Chinatown Love: https://www.sendchinatownlove.com/
• Heart of Dinner: https://www.heartofdinner.org/donate
• Ktownforall: https://ktownforall.org/donate/
• APIENC, supports trans and queer Asian and Pacific Islanders: https://secure.actblue.com/donate/apienc
• Oakland Vietnamese Community Center: https://www.vacceb.net/donate/donations/
• Red Canary Song, supports Asian & migrant sex workers: Redcanarysong.net
• GoFundMe: Support the Cause Against Anti Asian Violence: https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-the-cause-against-antiasian-violence
• GoFundMe: AAPI Journalists Therapy Relief Fund: https://www.gofundme.com/f/AAPI-journalists-therapy-relief-fund
• United Asian Alliance: https://www.unitedasianalliance.com/

Online Bystander Intervention Training

• Center for Anti-Violence Education
• Hollaback! holds multiple trainings every month
• SafeWalkNYC: https://www.instagram.com/safewalksnyc/?hl=en

Learn the History

• “Recent Rise in Anti-Asian Hate Crimes Doesn’t Mean Anti-Asian Racism Is New,” Teen Vogue
• “America’s long history of scapegoating its Asian citizens,” National Geographic
• “The Muddled History Of Anti-Asian Violence,” The New Yorker
• “There were 3,800 anti-Asian racist incidents, mostly against women, in past year,” NBC Asian America
• “Spit On, Yelled At, Attacked: Chinese-Americans Fear for Their Safety,” The New York Times
• “Recent violence against Asian Americans highlights need for better tracking, reporting,” NBC Asian America
• “Anti-racism resources to support Asian American, Pacific Islander community,” NBC Asian America
• “The Racism We Never Discussed,” InStyle

Further Resources

• Anti-Asian Violence Resources
• AAC’s Community Action Guide
• Stop AAPI Hate’s safety tips and rights guide
• Asian American Community Resource/Dono Post
• 61 Ways to Donate in Support of Asian Communities

North Carolina’s top environmental regulator, Michael Regan, became the first Black man to lead the Environmental Protection Agency after being confirmed Wednesday by the Senate. During his confirmation hearing, he vowed to “move with a sense of urgency,” yet attempted to reassure Republican senators that his approach won’t leave working people who depend on fossil fuel jobs behind. Regan was confirmed by a 66-34 vote, with 16 Republicans joining all 50 Democrats.

“Our priorities for the environment are clear,” he said during his Senate confirmation hearing last month. “We will restore the role of science and transparency at EPA. We will support the dedicated and talented career officials. We will move with a sense of urgency on climate change. And we will stand up for environmental justice and equity.”

Regan’s words mark a stark contrast from the Trump Administration, which over the last four years struck major climate policies, deregulated the oil and gas industries, and rolled back regulations protecting the country’s air, water, and wildlife. Between the burden of tackling the EPA’s dismal past four years and President Joe Biden’s own ambitious environmental plan, Regan, 44, will face some serious challenges rebuilding an agency that lost nearly 5,000 employees during the Trump era.

Regan began his career as an environmental regulator for the EPA in 1998, serving under both the Clinton and Bush administrations. In 2008, he then joined the Environmental Defense Fund, ultimately rising to the position of vice president and Southeast regional director. In 2017, he was tapped to serve as secretary for North Carolina’s Department of Environmental Quality where he negotiated the largest coal ash contamination cleanup in U.S. history and created the state’s first Environmental Justice and Equity advisory board. During his tenure at the DEQ, he also worked to develop the state’s Clean Energy Plan, which aims to reduce private sector greenhouse gas emissions by 2030 and achieve carbon neutrality by 2050 while promoting clean energy technologies and creating opportunities for communities across the state.

Regan’s confirmation as EPA administrator rounds out Biden’s star-studded climate team. Gina McCarthy, who served as President Barack Obama’s EPA chief, will lead the charge on domestic affairs as the chair of a new White House Office of Climate Policy, and John Kerry, the former secretary of state, will be Biden’s international climate envoy. While making sure to pack his administration with climate heavyweights, Biden also signed numerous executive orders in his first few weeks in office. During Biden’s first two months in office, the United States rejoined the Paris Climate Agreement, cancelled the Keystone XL pipeline permit, and indefinitely paused new federal oil and gas leases, signaling a drastic shift on climate change and environmental justice policies. Biden has also vowed to achieve net-zero emissions by 2050 and eliminate fossil fuel emissions from the power sector by 2035 along the way. The EPA, and its leadership, will be instrumental to achieving these goals.

Before Biden’s climate team can enact any tangible change, Regan will first need to tackle the Trump administration’s recent rule that weakens the federal government’s ability to issue clean air and climate change regulation.

“It’s no secret that the next EPA administrator has his work cut out for him,” said Sen. Tom Carper, a Democrat of Delaware who will become the chairman of the Senate Environment and Public Works Committee, during the confirmation hearing. He also added that Regan will be “tasked to rebuild an agency badly damaged by flawed leadership“ and that has suffered “organizational drift and low morale.”

During his term, former President Donald Trump launched a full-fledged attack on the EPA. He nominated two heads over his four years: Scott Pruitt and Andrew Wheeler, both of whom actively undermined the EPA’s role in curbing the effects of climate change. Pruitt shrunk its reach and challenged regulations in court more than a dozen times. As his successor, Wheeler — a coal industry lobbyist — systematically reduced the role of scientists in the agency’s policy-making process. Besides cramming the EPA with climate change deniers, Trump attempted to cripple the agency and slash its funding, most recently proposing a 26% cut for the 2021 fiscal budget. Between the terrible leadership and shrinking budget, the Trump administration dismantled more than 100 environmental rules in just four years.

Regan outlasted Mary Nichols, Biden’s original frontrunner for EPA head, partly because he garnered more support from progressive activists and leaders.

However, activists in Regan’s own state have been a bit more reluctant. Steven Norris, an environmental activist from North Carolina, told The New York Times that Regan’s “heart is in the right place,” but that “he’s not tough,” citing the time when he didn’t block permits for the Atlantic Coast Pipeline, a natural gas pipeline that has since been canceled.

During his initial hearing, Regan emphasized his commitment to transparency and collaboration multiple times.

“I have also learned that we can’t simply regulate our way out of every problem we face,” he said.

Former colleagues have enthusiastically supported Regan’s nomination as EPA administrator, as have many activists across the country. Miranda Nelson, Jobs to Move America’s New York/New Jersey director, congratulated Regan on his nomination in a statement to The Interlude.

“We appreciate Regan’s focus on environmental justice communities and equity,” she said. “We hope he understands that you can’t fight our climate crisis without ensuring a just transition for workers and making sure that our green economy creates good jobs for our communities.”