There is no preparation for how to teach and learn during a global pandemic, much less how to approach writing about the climate crisis amidst an acute public health crisis. During Spring quarter, as we moved our lives online and braced ourselves for the uncertainties and suffering brought on by COVID-19, I met twice a week with a group of undergraduates, leading a class on climate writing. This class is part of the Interdisciplinary Writing Program. A prerequisite is concurrent or past enrollment in Atmospheric Sciences 111: the Science of Global Warming. 

There are many parallels between the abrupt impacts of climate change and those of COVID-19 — unexpected loss of lives and livelihoods, a heightened awareness of our interdependence, and disproportionate burdens on people marginalized by centuries of white supremacy and poverty. Through teaching and research I’ve become familiar with the storms of grief, despair, and rage that often accompany learning about the magnitude of climate change, but as I prepared to teach my class online, I questioned whether this would all be too much. Too much to write about the scales of ecological breakdown, the depths of socially-sanctioned climate denial, the extent of the damage already done to the planet, all while witnessing the rise of COVID-19 death counts and the swell in unemployment claims. Out of that question came another: how can this class on climate writing be ethically responsive to this moment? 

Writing during a pandemic gives us an immediate vantage point into the inner turbulence of not knowing the future, and an experience of our habitual patterns and routines dislodged from their tracks. From that not-knowing comes the recognition that the future is open and can be shaped by our words and actions in the present. Honing the craft of writing in this moment, in community with others, can be a practice in using the power of language and storytelling to actively shape our response to climate change. In this way, a collaborative class on climate writing can also be a course in resilience. 

We approached this climate writing using insights from research in science communication:

• Recognize that we can be numbed by numbers, and that dire statistics alone rarely connect with the emotions that prompt and sustain action
• Reduce the perceived psychological distance of climate change by writing vividly and descriptively about people, places, and relationships
• Use insight from neuroscience which teaches us that the human brain relies preferentially on experience over analysis
• Connect to people’s intrinsic motivation to care about the well being of others and the environment
• Cultivate the imaginative capacity to visualize possible futures, and to see the long-term consequences of present actions and policies

The students in this class were intrepid. In the midst of this pandemic, they wrote with courage, honesty, and determination. Over many discussions, short writing exercises, and two major projects, the students showed up for each other as caring, incisive peer editors.  

The first project was modeled on a feature news story, and had two common elements: (1)  an interview with a scientist from the Program on Climate Change; and (2) a shift away from dominant style of crisis reporting which can inadvertently leave readers in a deer-in-headlights state of shock. Instead, they wrote in the style of solutions journalism, highlighting how people and communities are responding to climate change. Two students share their feature stories here: 

Graciella Blanco* interviewed Alex Stote about the effects of ocean acidification for her piece “The Salish Sea: How much is at stake for Washington State Locals and Native American Tribes”

K.M.J. Shin interviewed Katie Brennan for her piece, “COVID-19 is Making us Less Sustainable.” 

The second project grew out of the emerging genre of climate fiction (CliFi). Inspired by the Imagination and Climate Futures Initiative, High Country New’s Speculative Fiction Edition, Jesmyn Ward’s Salvage the Bones, and many other works of climate fiction, students crafted their own visions of the future. This process of making invisible futures visible, of adding flesh and blood to the bare bones of climate projections, is necessary if we’re going to shift our culture away from short-termism and imagine the long-term consequences of today’s choices.

These CliFi stories had two common elements: (1) each story is tied to future projections of climate change from the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change Fifth Assessment Report; and (2) each story incorporates two perspectives, either the perspectives of two characters inhabiting the same climate future, or a single character projected into two different climate futures. 

Here, five students share their CliFi: 

Jazlyn Selvasingh: Nothing Gold Can Stay 

Step into a potential future of our planet, overrun by mosquitoes and completely divided by wealth and access to resources.

Barry Shen: Will the Sea of the future still be colorful?

Possible futures of corals around the world.

Jax Morgan: Notes from the Age of Retrospect

A thought experiment into the future of rising surface temperatures, forged by the contemporary choice to confront or dismiss its growing threat.

Selina Yan: Dreamland and Reality

I hope the marine city is just a dream, never becomes a reality.

W.B. Groom: Home Away From Home

In a warming world, will integrated technology help us cope or enhance our suffering?

Authors: Members of the UW Spring 2020 Climate Writing Class (ENGL 199)

Judy Twedt is a 5th generation settler on Coast Salish land and a PhD candidate whose research explores new ways of connecting to the science of climate change. She teaches courses in climate science in the Department of Atmospheric Sciences and courses in climate writing in the Department of English Interdisciplinary Writing Program. 

*Graciella Blanco wrote this story in an earlier version of this class