Everything I experienced during the second Youth Strike 4 Climate in Leeds

I generally think of myself as a soft-core environmentalist. I recycle. I have significantly cut down on my meat intake since coming to uni (definitely not because I’m terrified meat will kill me if I’m the one cooking it…) which does not earn me the smug rights veganism would but it is a positive change from my carnivorous habits. I’m not zero-waste – I think we can all agree that’s nigh on impossible while consumerism is still around – but I do like to show willing and do my bit where I can so I’ve been to both Youth Strikes for Climate and here are my four stages of activism:

1. Anticipation

I’d been to the first strike empty-handed, not a poster or placard on me, and this time I was not to be humiliated and excluded in such a way. So, after hurrying around my flat for far too long in search of cardboard, I ran to my lecture, the potential poster in one hand and colouring pens in the other – I’m a Geography student, so the latter wasn’t much of a challenge for me – I was ready to get creative.

2. Panic and stress

I’d made it to my lecture, but my cardboard was still a blank canvas. The stressful endeavour to find a funny, preferably punny, meaningful slogan about climate change was on. Despite being armed with all the coloured pens I owned and all the Ecosia (the eco-friendly browser of the future – go check it out) search results I could ask for, all the slogans online, you know, didn’t feel like me. Was there any slogan out there that would sum up my passion and personality in few enough words that it would fit on my leftover cardboard? Eventually, I stole one I saw at the first climate strike – ‘Don’t be a Fossil Fool’. It was perfect, simple but effective, and, best of all, punny.

The first worry was over, but then disaster struck. Halfway through the lecture I joyously doodling my poster, not paying an ounce of attention and I realised this lecture would not be on lecture capture, and it's an alarmingly confusing module. However, this moment of panic was fleeting as my indignant righteousness took over and told me saving the planet via strike was far more important. Realistically there isn’t much point in me learning the economic applications of excessively complex mathematical techniques if the world is going to die in a fiery apocalypse by the time I get to use them. Obviously, I'm a bit over-dramatic there, but you get the idea.

3. Confusion

My climate caring pals and I veritably skipped from our lecture to outside the town hall, each of us prepared to wave banners, until we were hoarse and vehemently support our fellow climate conscious students. However we arrived to a barren wasteland of abandoned steps and tumbleweed outside the town hall. Eventually we figured out the strike had begun to march around the city centre and we’d just missed its leaving. With the stories on Snap Maps as our guide we set off into Briggate hoping we’d eventually track down the group of shouting youths.

4. Excitement

Ten minutes into our search one of the crew with me utters the much-awaited words – “wait, does anyone hear that?” Hear that indeed we did. Slowly coming into earshot was an echoing of general cheering, footsteps and a faint chant of “who’s future? OUR FUTURE”. We smoothly intercepted the parade, full of passionate annoyed youths. My heartbeat raised a good few pulses per minute (definitely counts as my cardio for the week) as we merged into the crowd and easily picked up the chants reverberating around us, quickly becoming anonymous. I was not disappointed, this was ten times better than the last strike. As cheesy as it sounds, there was definitely a feeling of being a part of something. Everyone there was unhappy with the current trajectory of climate change and the lack of involvement of local governments in dealing with this terrifying challenge we, as a generation, have ahead of us, combined with the exhilaration of being on a march surrounded by equally zealous people around us.

Not to mention the feeling of power that comes with being in a group of hundreds, if not thousands, of like-minded people. As young people, we don’t tend to get to feel that unifying power. Most often we’re told that we don’t know what we’re talking about and that we should just be quiet and listen to the adults but not on March 15th. That day, we were showing them that we expect them to take responsibility for their negligence of our planet and that we are not satisfied with their feeble attempts to pacify us by pricing plastic bags and vaguely endorsing electric cars.

Thank Goodness we're not completely alone against the adults

At this point the future is so uncertain it’s impossible to know whether these strikes, as exhilarating as they are, will have any impact on policy creation or the general attitude of the older generation towards climate change. All I know is that it is our future and our children who will be fighting over what we consider fundamental rights today such as clean water, an abundance of food and biodiversity.

So I will be going to every strike, so the politicians know that we are here and the environmentalist movement is growing, soon we will be unavoidable and become a powerful voting force that is worth listening to – or at least as long as my colouring pens last.