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What Comes After Midnight: A Community-Centered Approach to Addressing the Climate Dilemma

Illustration by Briana Loewinsohn ’02 for the Scripps magazine Spring 2025 issue.

By M. Nakamura

The climate crisis has traditionally been conceived in terms of imminent disaster. In brief: We only have so long to change our ways before it’s simply too late. In 1947, the nonprofit publication Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists debuted its notorious Doomsday Clock, a metaphor visualizing the likelihood of an impending, human-caused global catastrophe. At its inception, the Doomsday Clock was set to seven minutes to midnight, with midnight indicating the point of demise. As of January 2025, the Bulletin has advanced the minute hand to 89 seconds to midnight, with climate change listed as the paramount factor.

Expressed through this visual, our future can feel hopeless. But for those who are actively combating climate change, putting the clock aside to take the crisis day by day is a practical choice.

The question young climate change researchers and advocates are looking to answer is what they can do today with the people they’re working alongside. A community-centered viewpoint is the approach taken by Stephanie Lim ’18, a Stanford University PhD candidate in earth system science, to guide her research and stay motivated.

“We’ve lost a lot and we’ll lose more, but there are still things that are worth saving and worth working toward,” says Lim, who is examining the effects of climate change on oceanic algae in Arctic Alaska. “What we do now has real impacts on people’s lives. In my work, I think of the vulnerable Alaskan coastal communities who depend upon shellfish, and whose livelihoods are being actively threatened by toxic algae blooms. Grounding yourself in these specific stories and places is helpful.”

Illustration by Briana Loewinsohn ’02.

Lim references this framework as a tool suggested by leaders like Ayana Elizabeth Johnson, a marine biologist, policy expert, and conservation strategist. Lim says she often thinks of a quote by author Emily Johnston in All We Can Save, a climate crisis–centric anthology coedited by Johnson: “We have to love not just this vanishing world . . . but the many worlds we can still prevent from vanishing.”

Anchoring her research with this focus takes her work beyond academia to make strides toward adapting to rapidly changing climate conditions.

“We need to focus on working and connecting with frontline communities—people who are disproportionately affected by the consequences of climate change, like Indigenous and coastal communities threatened by rising sea levels,” Lim says.

Susceptible communities like these have become a point of increasing focus in climate research. The US Environmental Protection Agency cites socially vulnerable populations as most at risk of being negatively impacted by climate change, including communities of color, low-income groups, certain immigrant groups, people with limited English proficiency, Indigenous populations, older adults, people with chronic illness or disabilities, and pregnant, breastfeeding, or postpartum women.

Making connections between the effects of climate change and those negatively impacted is an important tool in educating the public and ensures that the most vulnerable are at the forefront of discussions about climate solutions.

“The role of community work has historically been a big gap in my field that needs to be addressed,” says Lim. “I’m excited to see younger voices coming into the space and helping to bridge this gap in the conversation.”

One of these emerging voices belongs to Lucia Marquez- Uppman ’25, an environmental analysis major whose interest in climate change and the effectiveness of community-centered approaches took her abroad.

“It’s going to take a lot of work to reduce these discrepancies,” says Marquez-Uppman, who is minoring in Chicanx-Latinx studies. During her internship with Kinray Hub—an Indigenous-led nonprofit organization based in Ecuador—she worked under the direction of Kichwa-speaking homesteaders and studied Indigenous farming techniques. “People’s livelihoods are under threat. They’re living with the consequences of climate change every day. We have to make sure that we leave as few people behind as possible,” she adds.

Throughout her Kinray Hub internship, Marquez- Uppman’s agricultural work went hand in hand with her immersion in the local community in Cotacachi, a town with one of the highest concentrations of Indigenous peoples in Ecuador. She revealed that the joy she experienced while staying in her host town contributed as much to her positive experience as the work itself.

“Aside from research and farm labor, there were celebrations, too,” says Marquez-Uppman. “We were there for Inti Raymi during the summertime—the name loosely translates to ‘Sun Festival.’ We did so much dancing!”

Marquez-Uppman points out that the preservation and implementation of Indigenous environmental knowledge is a major way to bolster ecosystem health.

“We learned about sustainable agriculture techniques from community members in Cotacachi like crop rotation, which helps make sure the soil stays healthy. Indigenous understanding of soil health and erosion tends to be ignored, and that has had serious consequences,” she says.

Similar consequences have made themselves known in California, too, close to Scripps’ campus. “If the Indigenous method of using controlled burns for wildfire management hadn’t been prevented in California for so long, the January 2025 fires might not have been so devastating,” she says. “Historically, the practice by the Gabrielino-Tongva people in this area have been more effective than the United States’ fire suppression methods that disallowed them.”

Illustration by Briana Loewinsohn ’02.

Owning the climate crisis: A call for current and future generations

While most Americans are more insulated from climate extremes than the victims of recent record heat waves in low-income areas of New Delhi, for example, no nation is exempt. Lim notes that the recent shifting patterns of fires and hurricanes in the US remind us that problems are touching home.

“I find my work in the polar oceans fascinating because you can see the effects of climate change in real time, but I know that it’s also affecting Californians,” Lim says. “I see it in my day-to-day life, not just in the Chukchi Sea of the Arctic Ocean. There’s no denying that we’re witnessing extreme weather events here, especially with the recent wildfires, and I’d push back on the idea that climate change hasn’t really reached us yet.”

Young people are often among the most visible proponents of climate action, and as the global crisis further develops, it’s apparent that related disciplines must continue to evolve with it to affect change. Both Marquez-Uppman and Lim have seen positive shifts in their fields as fresh voices choose to enter the progressing conversation.

“Younger people are motivated by considering the welfare of future generations,” Lim says. “When you work in climate research for a long time, you can become cynical and start to feel like nothing can be done. Upcoming generations are tempering that exhaustion by bringing an energized, clear-eyed perspective.”

Insights from previous climate researchers and advocates remain valuable for emerging environmental leaders. By building on that foundation of knowledge, today’s climate action champions are able to keep the welfare of humanity and the planet at the heart of their efforts.

“Something we talk a lot about in my classes at Scripps is how much healthier it is to think of ourselves as part of a larger system,” Marquez-Uppman says. “We’re part of the natural world. We’re not a disease infecting the planet, which is how some people talk about it. This is our home, too.”

Centering community also means solutions don’t fall on an individual’s shoulders alone.

“No one person is going to solve climate change,” Lim says. “You have to find motivation and hope in the things that are within your grasp. There are many needs in climate activism spaces, so whatever calls to you, whether it’s research or communication, storytelling or art, you have something to contribute.”

Whatever that looks like—from larger research efforts like sailing the Chukchi Sea to homesteading in Cotacachi or partnering with others in the community for a local trash cleanup—it’s worth it. Meaningful community engagement can propel policy change and make a measurable difference in protecting vulnerable groups.

Lim emphasizes that the science is clear, and this is the time to act: “Find the places where your interests and capabilities intersect with the world’s needs.”

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