Wednesday, January 16, 2019 // The Statement 
7B
Wednesday, March 18, 2020 // The Statement
7B

ILLUSTRATION BY CHRISTINE JEGARL

W

hen I was a child, my family used 
to go on nighttime walks during 
the summer. I remember strolling 

along the tree-lined sidewalks of New York City, 
purposefully going down the least well-lit path-
ways so I could spot fireflies. 

I would gently reach my small hands toward 

any pulsating green light and softly clasp my 
fingers together to catch them. My brother and 
I would giggle as light escaped from our finger-
tips, the fireflies’ legs tickling our palms. Light 
pollution may have blocked the visibility of the 
starry night sky, but we didn’t notice — the fire-
flies were the stars brought down to earth for us 
to enjoy. These were stars we could reach. 

As I grew older and my family continued 

going on walks in the cool summer nights, I saw 
less and less fireflies. At first, I thought it was 
because I was growing up and not paying atten-
tion to them as much. I soon learned that the 
light pollution that was blocking me from see-
ing the night sky was also starting to shield the 
stars I had played with as a child — the fireflies 
— on Earth. 

It’s important to establish early education 

about climate change. Even being from a city 
whose nickname is the “concrete jungle,” I 
learned about conservation and climate change 
from a young age. As a child, I loved going to 
the Bronx Zoo, where they curate each exhibit 
so that you must pay attention to conservation 
efforts and the effects of human-induced cli-
mate change on wildlife populations. Before 
being able to see the gorillas at the zoo, every-
one was led into a small theater with dark, plush 
seats and curtains for walls to watch a short film 
about what field researchers and conservation-
ists do to help the gorilla population. The image 
of field researchers carefully treading the moist 
rainforest soil in search of gorillas is ingrained in 
my mind, but the conservation lessons that come 
from it are much more impactful.

In a summer gardening program at the 

New York Botanical Gardens, my friends and I 
learned about the impact of pesticides and safe 
pest control measures, how to properly take care 
of and sustainably harvest a plot of land and how 
to use the harvest to make food and to feed other 
animals. 

I was living in a bubble, young and surround-

ed by environmentally-conscious family and 
friends who introduced me to progressive modes 
of thought. The world I lived in when I was 
younger was trying to work its hardest to live in 
harmony with the planet and save its creatures 
— rehabilitating endangered populations, using 
environmentally-friendly cleaning products and 
using reusable bags well before a plastic bag ban 
was in effect. 

I grew up thinking environmental regulations 

were of importance to the government, never 
dreaming that future leaders would threaten 
them. I thought it was a fact of life that our world 
will only get better from here. I strongly believed 
that we were on a path to living lives that would 
benefit — not harm — the planet.

As I grew older and met more people, my 

world expanded. I had to learn that there were 
people who did not grow up familiar with con-
servation efforts, who did not know of ways to 
live with, as opposed to against, the planet and 
other animals. I learned that there are people 
who are not empathetic to animals, plants and 
the inanimate parts of the earth. To this day, it is 
difficult for me to understand these mentalities, 
especially as our climate quickly and dramati-
cally deteriorates.

The list of climate change effects is a long one: 

the Great Barrier Reef dying, the longer periods 
of drought and heat, habitat loss on a massive 
scale due to products such as palm oil or fires, 
the increased frequencies of natural disasters.

I developed climate anxiety as a result of the 

rapid tangible changes in ecosystems due to 
climate change. Human-driven climate change 
is not only potentially physically harmful, but 
psychologically harmful as well. Research 
shows that climate change has and will continue 
to exacerbate mental health issues such as anxi-
ety, post-traumatic stress disorder and depres-
sion.

I witnessed the growing climate anxiety 

not only in myself, but in others, first hand 
with the bushfires in Australia, which not only 
impacted the country of Australia but the entire 
world. Social media was flooded with pictures of 
severely burned animals, videos of koalas com-
ing up to tourists for water and stories of people 
losing their homes. The air quality dropped 
drastically and situations became dangerous in 
major cities, like Sydney. You could see the haze 
of the smoke from South America.

The Australian bushfires were uncontrol-

lable, leaving a lot of people feeling helpless. As 
I currently write this from Australia during the 
COVID-19 pandemic, I can tell you that Austra-
lians don’t panic unless there is reason to panic. 
While family and friends in the United States 
bombard me with messages about COVID-19, 
life goes on in Australia. So you can imagine how 
impactful an event would have to be to startle 
the people of Australia, and that is exactly what 
the bushfires have done here.

Every single professor I have had here in Mel-

bourne has mentioned the bushfires during their 
class — both their psychological and ecologi-
cal impact. Even though the smoke’s haze has 
cleared, it has revealed mass habitat destruction. 

My climate anxiety manifests itself in a rush 

of emotions — anger, disappointment, sadness, 
nervousness — and can creep up at any time. 
Hearing about the recent Australian bushfires 
forced me to stop looking at my phone. I couldn’t 
look at social media without my chest tighten-
ing and my heart racing. My eyes welled up with 
tears at the sight of displaced animals. 

Even smaller events trigger my climate anxi-

ety: Whenever I witness people sorting their 
trash incorrectly, when I see people using single-
use plastic, when I hear people say that their one 
lifestyle change will not make a difference or 
when I watch our nation’s leaders deny that cli-
mate change is an issue driven by human impact. 
My climate anxiety is triggered when I hear that 
the University is willing to arrest students — cli-
mate warriors — who are fighting for our future 
by telling those in power to take accountability 
in their major monetary contribution to climate 
change.

As I grew older, I drastically changed my 

lifestyle. My lifestyle acts as a therapy for me. I 
became vegetarian and greatly reduced my ani-
mal product consumption after observing farm-
ing practices during a veterinary sciences trip 
to Costa Rica. I reduce my time in the shower 
and try to only thrift and buy sustainably-made 
clothing. 

My climate anxiety is caused by a feeling of a 

lack of control. We have few leaders to look up 
to, and environmental policy never seems to be 
at the forefront of our political sphere or in the 
media. The anxiety is further perpetuated by the 
feeling that our generation will be left to clean up 
the mess past generations have made. 

I have had conversations with friends who 

are seriously considering a future that includes 
not having children because they do not want 
to bring someone into a world that will soon be 
unbearable to live in. 

There is no “cure” to any mental health ill-

ness, but climate anxiety can be alleviated with 
a group effort. First and foremost, vote for those 
in government whose main priority is to help the 
environment. Educate yourself on conservation 
efforts and the facts about climate change. Know 
that every action has a large impact, a ripple 
effect. We need to take control with our votes, 
our actions and our minds — and do it with com-
passion. It’s not a cure, but it’s a start to a solu-
tion.

Isabelle Hasslund is a junior studying Music in 

SMTD and Ecology and Evolutionary Biology in 
LSA. She can be reached at hasslund@umich.edu.

How climate change 
affected my mental health

BY ISABELLE HASSLUND, STATEMENT CONTRIBUTOR

