How does learning about the environment make you feel?
2024 marks my seventh year as a post-secondary environmental studies student. I have been intimately studying the inseparably intertwined social and ecological issues plaguing our world from the School of Environment, Resources & Sustainability at the University of Waterloo for seven years. Those seven years have been filled to the brim with valuable knowledge, experiences, connections, and wisdom. They have also been filled to the brim with emotions, which at times have overflowed.
I have felt anger learning about the malfeasance and dishonesty of government and industry parties, turning a blind eye to ecological destruction while their pockets grow heavy with profits.
I have felt grief learning about the species no longer roaming the Earth, and those on the doorstep of extinction.
I have felt anxiety walking by a schoolyard in my neighbourhood, listening to the joyful sounds of kids at play, and wondering what kind of a world they will inherit.
I have felt powerlessness navigating the capitalist system I am forced to engage with to survive, but I know is destroying our beautiful planet.
I have felt hopelessness learning about the latest climate projections and watching a trend line creep forever upwards into the clouds and seemingly out of reach.
While often individualized and pathologized, climate emotions are a common, justified, and appropriate reaction experienced by many folks while contemplating the climate crisis. This is particularly true for those of us dedicating years of our lives to studying, comprehending, and addressing the environmental issues we face today. Why then do emotions, especially “negative” emotions, remain largely overlooked and understudied in post-secondary environmental education where emotionally charged content is inevitable?
This experience led me to my master’s research project which is now coming to a close. Using creative photography and individual interviews, I empowered post-secondary students to share their emotional experiences in environmental education and to make recommendations for the emotional aspects of their degrees.
What resulted was some beautiful, powerful, and vulnerable work that I am honoured to share with you here.
Click here to use this video as a tool for reflection and discussion in your environmental classroom.
When asked “What has been your emotional experience in environmental post-secondary education?” this is what students had to say:
Artist: Katherine Matos
“The photograph depicts a boat that is lost in a dark and foggy sea. On board, there is a plant that has limited time left to survive, unless it reaches land soon. Unfortunately, the boat does not have a clear direction and is in unstable conditions to keep floating for much longer. This situation seems quite hopeless. The image represents how I feel after some courses, especially the ones where we discuss how the ecosystem has been degraded due to human activities or topics like climate change.”
Artist: P2
“On the surface, this photo looks beautiful. As I walk my dog, the morning sun is shining over the Red River and forest embankment. If this date were time-stamped, you would be able to see that it is December 21st, and there is no more than an inch or two of snow on the ground; a fact that triggers my eco-anxiety daily. At the centre of the photo is a garbage can, symbolizing that although overall I feel my emotional experience through my environmental education has been quite beautiful, there will always be a pang deep down at my core knowing how unpromising the environment’s future is. I feel very lucky to have learned about the wonders of the natural world through my education, which allows for a deeper understanding and appreciation of my surroundings, but it has also heightened my awareness of how bleak the situation is.”
Artist: P6
“My environmental education throughout the last 5 and a half years has unfolded sort of like the weather in Alberta this Winter. From troubling, yet admittedly enjoyable high temperatures, to an intense and debilitating polar vortex, then back to unseasonably warm days—my environmental education has followed a similar fluctuating and varying path. I have felt alarmed by professors who were honest about the reality we face, and frustrated by those who could not name it. I have felt humanity was missing from certain lessons focused on the science, and I have felt immense guilt from lessons focused on our individual contributions. I have felt excited about the possibility of spearheading solutions, and I have felt swindled into believing there is no solution because there is no perfect solution.”
Artist: P1
“I have found that the more we learn about plant identification, the more I see invasive species when I am outside, and it can be hard sometimes, especially as they are the most easily identifiable. I think this transcends a lot into my courses (beyond plant ID), where once we learn about certain patterns in class, I see them much more in real life. In my experience, these have been mostly negative. Aside from invasive species, I also notice environmental politics a lot more in the news, and those decisions have a lot more weight or significance now that I understand the concepts better.”
Artist: P4
“My default emotional state towards environmental education is curious and motivated. However, I can distinctly remember instances throughout my degree where this curiosity and motivation quickly disappeared in the face of complex and overwhelming lecture topics. I have had instructors teach about things like political complexities and energy systems, assuming that students have a thorough base of knowledge on the topic. The content was so overwhelming and confusing to me that I left the class feeling powerless, withdrawn, inadequate, and numb. Since the class was happening in a lecture-style format, there weren’t any windows of opportunity where I felt like I was able to ask questions or catch up on my understanding. This picture was taken on the frozen canal near my childhood home. I see myself in the moments described above as the dark cracks in the ice; wanting to reach out with curiosity and to grow but being frozen in place and turning cold. Others are feeling this way in the distance, but they’re difficult to see and seemingly impossible to connect with.”
Artist: Richa Mishra
“It feels like I am facing shape-shifting, formless challenges when I look at the facts and information I have in context to the climate emergency. Everybody sees this as something different, from their own perspectives, and their own realities. I see this crisis as a much deeper problem. This is an identity crisis for us humans. I no longer know how to make sense of the world in little parts and manageable segments. I have frozen, staring at the storm clouds that look like a hurricane. My own identity has been reinterpreted and, in some ways, I too have dissolved. As I have gone through these past few months, I have consciously realized how I deconstruct and make sense of the world around me. And even though many experiences tell me that I am where I was meant to be, I still feel afraid because I cannot fathom that humanity is where it was supposed to be, if the Earth is near burning right now. My brain is always filled with too many thoughts and emotions. I feel inadequate and small, the storm clouds look too massive. Maybe it should rain.”
When asked “What recommendations (if any) would you like to share in relation to the emotional experience of the course content and teaching approaches utilized within your post-secondary environmental education?” this is what students had to say:
Artist: Katherine Matos
“The photograph depicts the earth rolling towards an edge point where it falls into a dark hole. However, the Earth’s trajectory can be changed. If it leans towards the left side where poor actions are made, the result is a degraded environment with no life. On the other hand, the right side represents a healthy environment with life, in case humanity takes important actions. The image reflects how technical information that we receive during courses, such as the Earth’s limits of growth, leaves us with a sense of urgency to act fast. Usually, after processing such technical information, I feel motivated to do something but at the same time, anxious about the future and indignant about why we are not doing enough and why people are careless. As an environmental practitioner, I feel that there is a need for more tools that can help us deal with the anxiety and overwhelming feeling that comes with the course content. It is also important to add tools that can help us take action towards solving the problem. For instance, we can work on improving our communication skills, and gain knowledge about sociology to understand human nature better and learn how to influence people. This way, we can spread information and be a part of the movement to make a positive change.”
Artist: P3
“Students want to see a more sustainable world that works for both people and nature. In today’s world, this can seem like an impossible dream, which may influence one’s emotions. Emotions are not a weakness, though. I have found it incredibly useful to learn how to use my emotions to fuel my desire to achieve a more sustainable world. I do not mean to allow your emotions to take over in all scenarios, but to use negative emotions such as sadness and guilt to influence positive change. It is much easier said than done, but it is a skill that was worthwhile for me to learn. Allow yourself a space to feel those emotions, but not overpower your will and desire to be a part of the positive change that the world needs. I feel as though the picture associated with this prompt demonstrates the use of “negative” feelings for something positive. The picture shows rain in the form of puddles on the road. Although rain is commonly associated with “bad” weather, it is beneficial for many reasons. Too little rain, and we experience drought. Too much rain, and we experience flooding. There’s a balance to it that is needed, just like our emotions.”
Artist: P6
“The most impactful experiences I have had throughout my post-secondary environmental education have been grounded in land-based learning—from interning on a regenerative cattle farm while completing my undergraduate degree in Development Studies, to my experience in Costa Rica interviewing farmers who are passionate about conducting agriculture in new (and old) sustainable ways. I have found that the parts of my environmental education that have taken place in a classroom have felt largely theoretical—not always, but often. Seeing environmental issues with my own eyes and meeting people impacted by certain stressors made my learning tangible and made the lessons feel more pressing than before. The photo above is of a regenerative syntropic agricultural system in Costa Rica. I valued hearing about this system and all of its attributes directly from the farmer who cared for and maintained it, much more than I have valued the literature which describes these types of systems. I think it is far more likely that the impacts of environmental degradation on life and ecosystems are emphasized and considered when learning takes place in this form, compared to lectures in a classroom.”
Artist: Mary Ingribelli
“I never realized how accessible and underused some natural areas are in my city until I became a parent and needed to get out of the house for fresh air and something to do with my baby. I had walked through this nature park a few times; however, I never had a full appreciation for what it had to offer. After my experience with an environmental policy and legislation course, I suddenly observed so many distinct aspects of this park that raised questions about enforcement, awareness and knowledge of protected areas, species, fish sanctuaries, etc. My first thought was that a walk through a nature preserve would be an ideal class setting. To be able to see an area and learn about applicable environmental laws around it would add so much more connection to the learning.”
Artist: P4
“This picture is one of my favourite trees in the world. Its enormous branches reach out with such incredible warmth and strength. That is how I picture an alternative version of myself where my environmental education allows me to connect with my peers, make mistakes, be curious, and have my feelings validated.”
Artist: Neha Kapoor
“This picture is from Thunder Bay, Canada, overlooking the Sleeping Giant. It is a beautiful landmark, and there is an Ojibway story behind why it’s there in the first place. One of the things that felt awfully familiar to me is the Indigenous connections to lands and waters, and how there is a human story behind every part of nature. Both my undergraduate and graduate courses have included some Indigenous content, and listening to their stories made me feel more connected to Canada. There needs to be more activities and teaching plans regarding Indigenous content and their philosophy towards taking care of their lands and waters. It is impossible to ignore the cultural impacts of environmental stewardship activities, hence it is important to include more of Indigenous storytelling and perspective and again, make it more accessible to a diverse audience, not just to white people.”
‘A harsh but necessary truth.’
Students described their emotions experienced in environmental studies as ‘a harsh but necessary truth.’ Although they recognize that these topics are emotionally challenging, students accepted the emotional weight of course content, considering it highly important.
The goal is not to remove or even to minimize these “negative” emotions from post-secondary environmental education, but rather to empower students to embrace, reflect on, learn from, and harness their emotions for meaningful and beautiful outcomes. Speaking openly about our climate emotions and sharing our unique stories can bring us together and strengthen the collective as we work to overcome the social and environmental issues we face.
So how can we apply this learning and improve the emotional experience of environmental education?
Challenging emotional experiences were undeniably woven throughout my seven years in post-secondary environmental education. Much like my participants, I don’t believe it would be either feasible or productive to remove those experiences entirely. However, rather than ignoring, ridiculing, or downplaying student emotions’ we should honour, celebrate, and embrace those emotions as the opportunities for learning and connection that they are.
- When students express anger when learning about the environmental injustices all around us we should embrace that anger as a valid and ethical response.
- When students express grief when faced with the loss of the more-than-human world, we should honour that grief and acknowledge the love that underpins it.
- When students express anxiety for future generations we should listen and make space for that expression, reminding them that anxiety is a moral emotion that expresses care.
- We can also weave more “positive” emotional experiences into the textile of environmental education.
- We can create opportunities for students to feel inspired by stories of resilience from our natural world and the eco-warriors fighting for our beautiful planet.
- We can empower students to make meaningful changes in their communities and remind them that even the smallest of actions create ripples that can catalyze systemic change when people come together.
- We can foster connection and community among students to remind them that, while it can feel isolating at times, they are not alone in their emotions or their efforts.
There is immense power in the vulnerability of sharing your story and listening to the stories of those around you. Exchanging stories about our climate emotions allows us to change the narrative and to work together to rewrite a better ending for Earth and all her living things. I am excited for this research to help post-secondary educators and institutions work towards a more emotionally-aware environmental education, one story at a time.
I’d like to thank my incredible co-advisors Sarah Wolfe and Christine Barbeau, and committee member Rob de Loë for their support and guidance in conducting this research. Thank you to all my participants who bore their souls, shared their innermost thoughts and feelings and showed such strength and vulnerability. Without you, I would have no research to share. Thank you for continuing to show up and do the work each and every day, even on the tough days.
– Beth Grant