Climate Action Has Never Made Me Feel More Jewish

Fiery orange skies. A record number of tropical storms. A global pandemic, triggered by humanity’s unstinting exploitation of natural resources. For 364 days of the year, doomsday messages dominate the world of climate media. As a graduate student in Environmental Communication, I consume a lot of them. And sometimes, those messages consume me.

But then there is Earth Day.

Once a year, motivational newsletters flood my email inbox, inspiring me to reduce my meat consumption, plant a tree in my backyard and beautify the world around me. I go on my favorite hike, notice native plants in newfound places and try my best to convince my parents to invest in solar panels. On Earth Day, I feel true motivation to take action on behalf of our planet’s climate. This 51-year-old holiday makes me feel like a sustainable world is possible and that, by reducing my own carbon emissions, I can make an impact in this monstrosity of a crisis.

Yet when I consider just how bad our climatic future might be, Earth Day feels painfully inadequate. As the highest emitter of carbon dioxide cumulatively, America is not doing nearly enough to reduce its emissions. President Joe Biden’s recently proposed infrastructure plan aims to reduce emissions by investing $2 trillion in public transit, electric vehicle infrastructure, disaster relief and climate research. Although the plan is an important start, it would only cover a fifth of what multiple reports estimate the federal government must invest to avoid the most severe consequences of global warming.

Unless we commit to spending $1 trillion each year for the next 10 or more years, experts predict we will see an increase in the frequency and severity of global pandemics as well as a catastrophic rise in sea level, shortages of food and water, increased violence and warfare and economic collapse.

Meanwhile, our individual efforts to curb emissions are often futile. For decades, corporations have lied about their role in the climate crisis, using slick PR campaigns to convince us that the fate of the planet rests on our isolated actions to curb individual consumption. Since the 1990s, for example, the plastics industry has spent millions of dollars on fallacious recycling campaigns so they can sell more plastic without public pushback. Corporations know that when they deflect attention from their own, much larger carbon footprints, they can continue to profit from destroying the environment and harming communities. This is why I keep getting those saccharine eco-newsletters. Earth Day, despite its radical origins, has absorbed the myth of individualism.

Our individual efforts to curb emissions are often futile.

The hypocrisy is almost too much to stomach. I am happy to bike more, eat less meat and buy locally — these things all have positive ripple effects — but I’m not deluding myself. That isn’t the best I can do to stop our climate crisis. What we need is good policy, now. While research suggests that individual behavior change is significant at a societal level, strong federal policy is necessary to affect change on a structural scale.

That’s why I am taking leadership with Dayenu, an intergenerational climate action organization that harnesses the power of community to advance new climate policies. Dayenu offers an alternative to individualistic climate approaches by coordinating political action on climate change.

Before joining Dayenu, I never imagined being an organizer. I also barely thought of myself as Jewish. I’ve never been at the frontlines of political movements before. And I only came to my Judaism five years ago, after learning that my grandparents survived the Holocaust.

In some ways, I’d already been channeling Jewish values in my environmental work — I just didn’t have the community and ritual to frame it. My coursework in food systems and my love of farming have connected me with family, cherished friends, agrarian history, and personal wellness practices. The values that keep drawing me back to the soil can all be found in Jewish tradition.

Before I joined Dayenu, I had seen Jewish values and environmental values as two distinct systems for leading meaningful lives; the former might offer community, spiritual guidance and a connection to my ancestors, while the latter could challenge me to consider what it means to be a human and a future ancestor on a dying planet. Now, as I learn more about climate organizing and Judaism, I have come to believe I need both Jewish and environmental values to sustain my work –– and that, actually, they’re one and the same.

As I chant “Dayenu” for our climate, I imagine my grandmother, who will turn 100 this June, as a young woman singing with her family in the years before she hid from the Nazis. When I raise my voice for the climate, I am honoring her resilience and that of my ancestors while acting to ensure my own descendants can, one day, do the same. Our history demands us to act boldly, even when we are daunted by the crisis we’ve inherited.

You can contribute to making a difference by picking up the phone and calling your representatives to demand that they respond to the climate threat. Already, Congress is drafting legislation to ready American infrastructure for a warming future. Your participation in the Dayenu call campaign will help push for bigger and bolder investments within President Biden’s American Jobs Plan. When the federal government prioritizes the climate, we stand a better chance of creating a world reflective of b’tzelem elohim, in the image of divine wonder and justice.

Grace Wallis co-leads the Dayenu Circle at The Orchard. She is currently finishing her graduate studies in Environmental Communication at Stanford University. To participate in the Dayenu Call Campaign, please visit Dayenu.org/call.