Learnings as a South Asian climate justice advocate
19-year-old student and climate advocate Varsha Yajman attends a rally in Australia for the #StopAdani movement, which aims to stop the Adani Group from building a large coal mine in Australia. (Courtesy of Varsha Yajman)
The role of race in the climate movement.
I spent three years in the environment movement without ever acknowledging my identity as a woman of colour. I had the opportunity to do press, to speak on public platforms about my passion for climate justice — yet I never discussed the intersection between racism and climate change.
Attending a high school which was predominantly White while being part of the environment movement that is significantly underpinned by Eurocentric attitudes and racism, my identity as a woman of colour was suppressed.
In meetings and panels discussing climate change, I was the only person of colour. I would listen to the people around me talk about the importance of intersectionality and elevating marginalised voices but see no steps being taken to achieve this. At climate justice events, many times there wouldn’t be any Indigenous people or people of colour as speakers. I just assumed this was just how it was, it never occurred to me that this was not OK. My idea of justice and intersectionality became buzzwords, not practices being lived out in reality.
However, over the past year, my identity as a climate justice advocate has completely shifted and I have been able to to recognise myself as a woman of colour, as a South Asian. The turning point came during the rise of the Black Lives Matter movement in 2020. I was reflecting on the privilege I have and how fortunate I am to be given opportunities to speak out, when for so many Black people, going on a walk or driving to the supermarket is a threat to their life. I also began to question how ingrained racism is in our day-to-day lives and how it has affected me. Whether that be people asking, “Where are you from?” constantly or being used as the token Brown girl in media opportunities, I realised these microaggressions had become part of my everyday life. I thought about the ways that internalised racism forced me to conform to White standards and disconnected me from my Indian culture — from being embarrassed to speak my language and talk about my culture in front of people to not wanting to wear my beautiful traditional clothing anywhere.
“I thought about the ways that internalised racism forced me to conform to White standards and disconnected me from my Indian culture — from being embarrassed to speak my language and talk about my culture in front of people to not wanting to wear my beautiful traditional clothing anywhere.”
During this time, I joined the climate justice group Sapna South Asian Climate Solidarity. Working as a coordinator at Sapna to create a space for South Asian climate advocacy has allowed me to unpack the internalised racism I have carried with me for the past 19 years. Before Sapna, I had never talked about my experience as a woman of colour or recognised my identity during my climate activism. I would talk and chant for justice without recognising the nuances of what justice meant. It was a tokenistic word for me. I was still trying to fit into the predominantly White environment movement.
It was through Sapna that I understood what it meant to decolonise the environmental movement and work towards justice. I realised that the current environment movement is created by and for the privileged. It does not acknowledge or amplify the voices of people of colour, Indigenous people, Black people or those on the front lines of climate change — and that needs to change.
To help decolonise the climate movement, Sapna began working in solidarity with organisers and climate groups. Together we are examining how caste and gender shape who is affected most by climate change and fighting to address these inequalities. Our work focused on providing a platform for Indian stories rather than overshadowing them.
Varsha takes the mic at a #StopAdani protest. (Courtesy of Varsha Yajman)
It was in this space that I had the opportunity to share my story as a woman of colour for the first time. While I can never speak for those in India living with the daily impacts of climate change, being able to talk about my experience as an Indian Australian and the experiences my family has had was incredibly special to me. It was a moment that made me appreciate how far I had come and how far I still had to go in the journey of recognising my advocacy as a South Asian.
In my speech at my first climate protest with Sapna in Sydney I had the chance to share how climate change has affected my family in India. Below is an excerpt from my speech:
“When talking to my Mum about Adani* she tells me that when she was younger, Bengaluru, her home city, was known as the Garden City. Now, When I talk to my family who live there, they say that Bengaluru is probably going to lose that title soon and frankly it worries me that every time I visit the heat feels stronger and the air feels dirtier.
My favourite memory I have from my many visits to India is when I went to this place called Jana Pada Loka. It’s this amazing cultural museum that has a display of the village folk arts in the outdoors and is surrounded by tall trees and lush grass fields. Going there with my family, playing in the park with my then 3-year-old cousin with the long green trees around us is one of my favourite memories. It’s honestly one of the only places in Bengaluru that I’ve seen with lush green fields. And that’s scary to think.”
Sharing this story was extremely liberating, I felt like I was able to truly embrace my identity as a South Asian woman.
Since then, I’ve done some incredible climate justice work with Sapna. It is through these experiences that I now understand that my perception of climate justice is constantly going to change as I begin to understand the nuanced experiences of those around me. While I am so grateful that I have been able to make that connection now, I wish I had been able to understand this and embrace my Indian heritage at a younger age. Barriers of systemic racism in all areas of life — from school to the environment movement — make it difficult for students like me to feel safe and confident while speaking up. Even attending a protest for a person of colour can be inaccessible as we are more likely to be targeted by police.
Changing this requires education about climate justice. Education at school is the starting point. We need our curriculum to go beyond talking about the effects of plastic pollution and carbon emissions but educate students on the legacy of colonisation and its role in the climate crisis to this day. Students need to learn about the importance of diversity in the climate movement, the importance of being an ally to those experiencing the most significant effects of climate change. According to a report by Princeton University, people of colour are more likely to die of environmental causes such as ocean acidification, heat waves and natural disasters. Schools need to discuss these power imbalances. Young people will never be able to rectify the many injustices of the climate crisis if they do not learn about them. Solving the climate crisis means different things for different countries. For countries like America and Australia, renewables are much more viable — whereas, for countries like India, solutions need to be community-focused to address barriers of poverty and caste as well as the lack of accountability in the government.
“We need our curriculum to go beyond talking about the effects of plastic pollution and carbon emissions but educate students on the legacy of colonisation and its role in the climate crisis to this day.”
When I began in the climate movement, it was difficult to navigate a space that felt so foreign and for many of my friends who are people of colour. We were afraid to speak up. By exposing younger students — whether they be queer, a person of colour, Indigenous or from a low-income background — we are not only creating the next generation of climate advocates but also redefining the currently narrow limits of justice.
I was lucky to learn from my experiences what I did not learn in school. I am so grateful to be able to share my story and embrace my identity as an Indian Australian.
I hope you can appreciate the beauty of your heritage too.
*The coal from the Adani Carmichael mine is extracted in Australia and burned in Godda, a city along the border of Bangladesh and India. In Australia, the mine is being built on the land of the Wagan and Jangilou people without their consent. In India, the Adani mine is evicting Adivasis, the Indigenous people of Hasdeo forests, from their homes.
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