Online Exclusive: A Conversation with Sarika and Severn Cullis-Suzuki on Climate Resilience and Indigenous Leadership

Both of you have experienced youth activism firsthand. What has the transition from youth activism to adult advocacy taught you about maintaining momentum and influence over time?

Severn: My youth activism is actually what anchors me as an adult: I’m anchored in justice for future generations. It’s our sacred duty to fight for the future. I’ve found that as an adult you can become jaded, just mired in all the reasons why things don’t seem possible, but rooting myself in youth advocacy and continuing to work with young people has helped me so much. I’m reminded daily of why I started down this path. I will be a lifelong advocate for youth. 

Sarika: Maintaining momentum is only possible if you have your health and energy, and this definitely pertains to advocacy work- something we didn’t think about as kids. Today, as Sev says, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed by the enormity of environmental issues, so taking breaks and doing things that replenish us has become important. Growing up, our parents were very honest with us about the ecological destruction of the world; and while that might have been distressing, our mother always empowered us by saying we could take action, we could affect change. She was the first to roll up her sleeves and dive into the work. Now as parents ourselves, Sev and I see the importance of action, not just as an undertaking, but as an embodiment of our values… and as I get older, I find these small actions key to my mental health!

What shifts have you noticed in the approach and reach of environmental activism from your early experiences to now?

Today, there is a general understanding and acceptance that environmental issues exist, and need to be addressed- the science is out and the data are irrefutable. Now climate change is mainstream, it’s all over the media, but that wasn’t the case when we were growing up, or when the David Suzuki Foundation opened in 1990. So while the current global response to climate change may be insufficient, it’s still a big cultural shift in conversation and acceptance- one that shouldn’t be overlooked! The other thing that’s finally changing is an understanding of how justice and the environment are interconnected. They go hand in hand. And the recognition of Indigenous history and the need for reconciliation… Again, all these things seem evident now but when we were growing up, they just weren’t commonly talked about. It’s a new landscape today.

Indigenous communities have long been stewards of biodiversity and natural balance. How can Indigenous knowledge and leadership be integrated more effectively into global climate solutions?

We need recognition of rights and title; we need to listen to Indigenous communities and take their recommendations; we need to implement UNDRIP. We need to take our allyship very seriously and recognize it’s not just a moral imperative, it’s an existence imperative: Indigenous people have maintained their connection to place and culture, living in reciprocity with the Earth… Contrary to that is our globalized, Capitalist economy, which has become the dominant human framework, and which is destroying our planet. So we need to explore different paradigms that exist, ones that are rooted in people in place.

How do you believe we can shift the narrative from climate despair to one of resilience and survival, especially for younger generations experiencing climate anxiety?

We absolutely need to change the narrative from we are the problem to we are the solution. And this is what makes us most excited about working at the David Suzuki Foundation, because ‘Solutions are in our nature!’ We tend to focus on the problems today and it really limits our imaginations, which is ironic, because we actually have all the solutions.

One of the biggest shifts in thinking we’ve had, and which has helped profoundly, is moving away from the idea that people are inherently evil, destructive and greedy. That given a ‘Lord of the Flies’ scenario, we’d all inevitably turn on each other and self-destruct. This is not true. When you look back at our species through time, we see that those who have survived have done so through community, and by living in a way that recognizes our interdependence and interconnection with all life. Dependence on others doesn’t mean weakness; in fact, it’s how we become resilient. We forget this because in modern Western culture these things are not prioritized. And why, again, we have so much to learn from Indigenous cultures, which, having been created and practiced over millenia, reflect this absolutely.

The other thing that gives us huge strength is knowing that we are here today because of our ability to survive: while our species Homo sapiens is relatively new, our early hominid ancestors survived over three million years of astounding climate fluctuation. Through heat, through ice, through enormous landscape changes. And all of this runs through our veins today. The ability to survive is part of who we are. 

What role does storytelling play in transforming climate fears into constructive action?

Stories are essential. They’re how we understand who we are, and how we make sense of the world. If we teach our children that we are inherently destructive, greedy animals, how does that make them feel, how will that effect how they act? If we teach them that we are compassionate, respectful and resilient animals, does this change how they see themselves, and everyone else? Our stories matter.

We know that data and graphs aren’t what ignite our hearts, and it is ultimately our hearts that drive change. When we hear stories about people rolling up their sleeves and making positive change, when we hear about someone doing a kind deed or speaking up for someone else in need, that is what moves us. The environmental movement has done a great deal in achieving public awareness, bringing important stories to the fore on climate change, biodiversity loss, ecosystem destruction. But we also need to tell the stories of what’s possible. Of transformation. And there are so many! Kanaka Bar, a small Indigenous community in British Columbia recently hit by fires, heat waves, and atmospheric rivers: they are tackling climate change head on by increasing food security through farms and gardens, producing their own renewable energy, and collecting their own environmental data so they can best prepare for what’s ahead. Or the Athabasca Chipewyan and Mikisew Cree First Nations and Fort Chipewyan Métis, who have created a large-scale solar farm that reduces greenhouse gas emissions by over 2,000 tonnes CO2eq/year. Or the Saulteau and West Moberly First Nations, whose wind energy projects in an area known for being rich in natural gas, are showing us the future of decarbonized energy supplies, while saving the endangered Klinse-Za caribou herd. Or the story of how much carbon is being kept in the ground because of Indigenous land defenders across Turtle Island. Or our monumental modern international achievements, like how we came together to stop acid rain, by collectively reducing emissions that caused it; or how we created The Montreal Protocol in the late 1980s to reduce harmful chemicals and fix the hole in the ozone. We need to hear these stories. They remind us of who we are, and what we’re capable of.

Despite the challenges, what current trends or initiatives give you the most hope for a sustainable future?

What gives us the most hope is the resurgence in Indigenous self-determination and governance of territory that’s happening all across this country, and beyond. From the historic Tsihlqot’in title agreement by the Supreme Court of Canada ten years ago, to the recent recognition of Haida title over Haida Gwaii by the province of British Columbia, Indigenous people are reclaiming power, and showing us another way. They are benefiting us all in the process, maintaining worldviews that honour land, relationships, diversity, community, and the generations to come. The youth of today also give us hope- from Maial Paiakan Kaiapó in Brazil, to Greta Thunberg in Sweden, to Haana Edenshaw here in Canada, and countless others, young people are stepping into the conversation and forcing us to remember the social obligations we all share, including with future descendants. Young people are and have always been the ones who see the world clearly, and hold our feet to the fire. But without the capacity to vote, or to occupy positions of power, they are still limited, and rely on our help. When we were young, older people would say to us often: ‘Well your generation will clean this mess up!’ or ‘It’s over to you now!’ Solving our environmental problems requires all of us- an intergenerational, or ‘all generations’ approach. Our fearless youth may be taking the lead, but we must be right there beside them to back them up. An example of youth who are leading the way are the Yukon First Nations who created Reconnection Vision, a climate action plan that emerged from their understanding that climate change is a symptom, and the problem is disconnection. The solution is simple: it’s reconnection.

What role can businesses play in influencing policy to support biodiversity and sustainable practices?

Humans have always needed economies, but today we need to redefine and reclaim this current trend of requiring economic growth, and stop this normalized culture of extraction. There are so many groups and individuals working to change our economic system: be inspired by the B Corp. movement, pushing businesses to meet better social and environmental standards to ultimately build a more fair and regenerative economy for all. Kate Raworth, behind the Donut theory, who describes an economy that thrives within our planetary and social boundaries. The Sloth Club in Japan, who believes living ‘slow’- with intention and connection- and supported by an economy centered on sharing, is a powerful way to counter the problems of our fast-paced world. All the people who are defining their own economic paradigms daily through growing their own food, trading goods with neighbours, participating in local markets and spaces which share, lend, reuse, and create. Be encouraged by this… it’s time to get creative!

If you could share one pivotal lesson learned from your careers, what would it be?

No one can do this work alone. It takes a village. And a community. And often, a really great sister.