From Zero (Experience) to (Climate) Hero
Written By:
Finlandia Foundation
Written by Abby Carlson
When I was around ten years old, I found an article in the newspaper on how a French inventor had made a car that ran using a hydrogen combustion engine. I was intrigued. I was young and had heard of climate change, but only sparingly from TV and kids movies like Fern Gully. I asked my father, a car parts sales engineer, what he thought of this article. “Oh, Abby–it’s a wonderful idea, yet not feasible.” When I asked him why, he mentioned the market and supply-and-demand. Frustrated yet not certain why, a thought lingered in my mind: “Why can’t we–I–do something about climate change?”
Years later, when I was in college, an ecology professor who was a self-proclaimed “tree hugger” taught me about the carbon cycle and climate change. I left class infuriated. Again, the question of “Why can’t I be a driving force for change?” arose. I was pre-med, but felt there was a reason I had been called to this class as a biology major.
Then, in grad school, I discovered I was indigenous. I had moved to Colorado, and for a class project, I was invited to look into my heritage. I had always been proud of my Finnish-American heritage. I grew up between the largely Dutch American community in West Michigan where I attended school, yet I felt most at home where I spent my summers in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, where the highest concentration of Finnish Americans in the United States is located. My family’s history was deeply ingrained in this community, where we practiced outdoorsmanship and stewardship in the forests and wetlands of the western UP, as we affectionately call it.
And yet I did not know much about being Sami until I was an adult. The Sami people are an indigenous ethnic group that live in the Arctic Circle of Scandinavia and Russia’s Kola Peninsula. When I looked back into our genealogy, I began to realize the love of nature, the stories, and the traditions we shared were a part of a unique cultural heritage. We had suspected we were of Sami descent because we looked like them and were of darker complexion. I had always felt a sense of not being fully white, but more like an “off-white,” which is kind of what the Sami are, as well as how we are treated, in relation to colonization.
So what does this have to do with climate justice? Obviously there’s some connection. It relates to a lost generation of ethnic Sami Americans who have just started to self-identify and find their voice, especially within the climate movement. During my heritage exploration, I also became a passionate outdoorswoman in the Colorado mountains. I joined the Colorado Mountain Club, hiked solo with my dog across the Rocky Mountain West, and witnessed much.
In 2017 I was kayaking the Flathead River in Montana when I noticed a plume of smoke coming up from Glacier National Park’s approximate location and knew when I saw the helicopter dipping a bucket into the river ahead of me that it was no small fire. It became known as the Sprague Fire and in the end burned 17000 acres and historic park structures. I thought about the wildfires raging in the west. This was something unlike anything I had ever seen, and I realized within my bones I wanted to make a difference.
In 2018, spurred by my indigenous identity and looking to get involved, I searched “climate change internship” on a search engine. I randomly applied to an internship at 350 Colorado. I was selected as the Climate Leadership intern and quickly immersed myself in the community. I recognized the need for action, which led me to pursue justice. I realized that I could make a difference. Yet, I was afraid to tell my counterparts I was indigenous. I did not feel that I could be present at the table of climate justice with fellow coalition members thinking I deserved to be there, largely because of how I had experienced prejudice growing up. In hindsight, I know I would have been accepted. I just did not feel ready to come out with my identity then.
We worked on Proposition 112, which aimed to ban fracking within 2500 feet of occupied buildings in the state of Colorado. I worked alongside others from all walks to enter the ballot initiative during the 2018 elections. I became more comfortable with my community, but I also became more comfortable with myself. The ballot initiative didn’t pass, yet its considerable support said something about our grassroots efforts in a battleground state, and I finally revealed to my counterparts I was Sami.
I continued to volunteer for the organization but found myself finally wanting to combine my identity with my efforts. I learned of the International Indigenous Youth Council, which was formed after indigenous youth protested the Keystone XL pipeline at Standing Rock. I found myself joining forces with other indigenous youth to organize and further connection and support amongst ourselves as we looked at an increasingly frustrating scene in the world’s changing climate. It was nice to talk to indigenous youth for once who understood the struggle, but I also felt somewhat out-of-place because I was still a settler of Turtle Island (what they call North America). During the pandemic, our meetings fell through, and I moved back to Michigan.
Feeling like I needed to continue my efforts locally, I joined the Community Collaboration on Climate Change, a loose collection of concerned individuals in Grand Rapids MI who organized for climate justice. I became a grant-funded “C4 Ambassador” and I was also placed in charge of a mini-grant, which I used to fund a committee-approved inner city native plant garden. During this experience, I openly represented the Sami community, and finally felt proud and a sense of peace tying this to my work.
I’m back in Colorado and getting involved with the advocacy scene again here, returning to my roots however with new faces. I just completed a sustainability certificate at the University of Michigan, as a member of its inaugural cohort, and for the past year I’ve been writing a monthly newsletter for the Climate Scorecard Project, a nonprofit dedicated to international climate reporting. I’m always looking for ways to contribute, and doubt I will remain inactive in the future. I’m on the Young Leaders Board of the Finlandia Foundation, where I have come full circle and represent the Sami community.
One of my friends told me recently, ”Abby, you really are a climate hero.” Though I hardly posit myself as one, I have learned to accept my identity as a half-Sami, half-white individual while recognizing both sides of the coin. I try to pay it forward to the North American indigenous community whenever and however I can because I recognize that despite my heritage, I’m still a settler on native land. I will always try to serve as a spark for change. Even if it just means identifying as native. Take it from me–a zero-to-hero. No matter who you are or what way you contribute, even if it means just looking into your identity and recognizing its role in climate change, if you put your mind to it–you can be a climate hero, too.