For some, climate change is a topic of study or something they’re interested in. However, for islanders like me, it’s not abstract or theoretical. It is the fate that determines whether we sink or swim – literally. As the Barbadian Prime Minister Mia Mottley poignantly asked in her COP26 speech, “will they mourn us on the frontline?”

Living in Hawaiʻi and South Florida, I grew up in communities with inextricable and reciprocal relationships with nature, particularly the ocean. As a little boy, I was out hunting for crabs, exploring mangroves, chasing the flow of the tide at the beach. My childhood saw the growth of my profound fascination with nature but also exposed me to biodiversity collapses and the impact of climate change. I remember seeing people trucking in sand because of coastal erosion, and having to miss school because Hurricane Wilma wiped out all electricity for weeks.

People who live in places surrounded by water don’t have the luxury of debating whether the climate crisis is urgent or not. We’re seeing it every day, like the famous story of Florida residents who found an octopus in a parking garage, or more recently, the victims in Puerto Rico grappling with the pain and aftermath of Hurricane Fiona.