It is a Saturday morning in July 2046. The forecast high is 38°C, with today being the 19th consecutive day over 30°C. Due to climate change, this is expected for Soohk Soyiisiitsikssko, formerly known as Leduc, Alberta. Even with sunscreen and a hat, my sit spot session will have to be short. 

My front step has been my place of reflection for over 30 years. I look out at my yard and trees and feel connected to family. Now, in my 70’s, my kids are grown and have children of their own, and we have continued to make memories here.  

I sip my coffee and gaze down at the brown, crispy dandelions that cover the ground. There is a full ban on lawn watering and herbicides. Many neighbours have converted their front yards to rock beds and native grasses that require little water. 

My beloved apple tree finally submitted to the heat a few years ago. I wish I had more photos of her in her glory days, covered in white, fragrant flowers, buzzing with bees. In the fall, her branches would drip with crisp green apples. I loved those days. I would stand on the ladder, telling my sons to hold it steady as I reached for our prized fruit. We would bake apple pies together, laughing and sprinkling too much cinnamon. Those pies were filled with love and I mourned that tree and the special place it held in my heart. 

When it first died, I left it in place. Standing, but brown and dry. I felt depressed when I sat in my spot. I was sad for my loss and how it represented changes out of my control. I felt regret. If only I had been able to water it more…if only the world had not got to this point. Now, in order to manage this house and yard during the summer heat and heavy autumn rains, there were so many things to tackle. I was overwhelmed and alone.

My to-do list was long. I needed more rain barrels to hold enough water to last the season. My backyard composter needed fixing. I needed raised beds for gardening to make it easier on my back. I dreamed of a greenhouse to extend my growing season and expand my vegetable options. A backyard hen coop had been on my wish list for years. Even though the City had continued to offer incentives and support for these urban adaptation measures, there was still a cost. The truth was, I no longer had the energy, strength or money to take on these projects by myself. I struggled with a looming outcome: would I have to sell this house and move away from the place I loved?  

I meditated on this problem. I sat in nature and asked for guidance. One idea led me to volunteer at the Support Centre in town. This was an association set up about 10 years ago to help vulnerable populations adapt to the changing climate. It helped seniors apply for air conditioning rebates, it set up hydration and cooling stations, and it arranged storytelling and walking tours with Indigenous elders. I met so many caring people. One new friend at the Centre introduced me to the federal Climate Refugee Sponsorship program. This program offered modest subsidies to Canadian residents to encourage them to open their homes to refugees displaced by climate disaster. 

I contemplated whether this program was for me. I worried about sharing my space with a foreign family and having to change my habits. My house would be noisy and crowded. Could I live with that? What would my kids and grandkids think? It was a big step, but I had learned to trust my intuition. I signed up.  

Looking back, it was a wonderful decision. It has been three years now with my new Syrian family members, Layal and her husband, Adnand, and their two kids. They have been through so much, including drought and floods, and yet they remain hopeful and are full of kindness. Adnand is a skilled carpenter and managed to fit raised garden beds, a greenhouse and a hen coop in my backyard. Layal is an experienced gardener and my new plants are thriving in the changing climatic conditions. We have learned so much from each other and have become a united family. My sons and grandkids visit for meals and game nights. Most of us have found opportunities to speak publicly about the benefits of the refugee sponsorship program. 

I smell something spicy. Layal is frying vegan sausage in the kitchen and it is wafting to the front step. The kids call me for breakfast. They are excited to make Mshabbak with me later. It is a Syrian donut that we will serve with fresh fig jam. Jam that we made together, as a family, after picking figs from our new tree in the front yard. 

Although our new fig tree will not replace my apple tree memories, it does bring me joy. My grandkids and Syrian kids enjoy picking figs with me. We wash them and cook them together, laughing and learning. It is a new way to live, full of compassion and love. It has allowed me to stay in my home and share it with others. I visit the fig tree often. I reflect and am thankful for my gifts of a big family, new knowledge and the opportunity to help others.

Would you consider hosting a refugee family? What would that mean for your day-to-day lifestyle? What would be the same and what would be different?

Do you have suggestions for how to improve this story and make it more meaningful? I would appreciate your ideas. Please contact me on social media or at Kerra.Chomlak@royalroads.ca.

Figs

Credit: Ralph Lee Anderson for Southern Living (n.d.)

Story Explanation

This story uses the story spine (Cunningham, 2017; Rotman, 2017) to create a vision of climate adaptation initiatives 25 years in the future.

Character and Setting: A 72 year old woman in 2046 in Soohk Soyiisiitsikssko (a rough translation of the Blackfoot words for “large” and “slough”), which was formerly known as Leduc, Alberta.

Plot: The woman’s apple tree is meaningful to her. She has many memories associated with it, and it is a cherished member of the family. However, a changing climate killed her tree, and her hope. She is depressed by the loss and overwhelmed by the work involved in adapting her home. She has a choice to make about keeping the house or moving away from the place she loves. The challenge causes her to get involved in community programs and eventually, to open her mind and home to an extended family. The effect of this choice is that she is able to remain in her home. Her new climate adaptation initiative enhances her life and the lives of others. 

Themes: The story touches on the issues of climate grief, climate justice, family, community and connection with nature.  

Frames: A realistic perspective about changing species, new realities and lifestyles, but also hope for a fulfilling future. Senses and emotions are described to help the audience relate to the situation, make sense of climate change and be open to acting on the knowledge (Sundin, 2018).

Sequence of Events (Rotmann, 2017) or Story Formula (Cunningham, 2017): 

Once upon a time there was a woman from Soohk Soyiisiitsikssko, who loved her house and her children, grandchildren and home. When her sons were young, they would pick apples from the tree and bake pies together as a family. 

Everyday she would look at that tree and feel connected with her kids and this place. Over time, she built many wonderful memories there.  

Until one day, the changing climate caused her apple tree to die. 

Because of climate change, she needed to plant new species and rely on rain barrels, a backyard composter, raised bed gardens, a greenhouse and a hen coop, which required energy and money. As an aging person, she could not do it on her own. 

Because of that, she was worried she might have to sell her house and move away from the place she loved.

Because of that, she looked for inspiration and reached out to new people. She did this by helping others through a volunteer group. She met new friends, learned about new support programs, and opened her mind to new ways of living.

Until finally, she participated in a refugee sponsorship program and invited a family from Syria to live with her. This helped the woman adapt to climate change with physical, financial and emotional support. They replaced the apple tree with a hearty fig tree that flourished.

And every day after that, she lived happily in her home and continued to connect with her extended family by picking and cooking figs. The new tree and new family brought her love and hope.

References

Cunningham Bigler, K. (2017). Jumpstart your story with the story spine. Curiographic. https://www.curiographic.com/blog/2017/2/18/jumpstart-your-story-with-the-story-spine.

Rotman, S. (2017). “Once upon a time…” Eliciting energy and behaviour change stories using a fairy tale story spine. Energy Research & Social Science, 31, 303-310. https://go.openathens.net/redirector/royalroads.ca?url=https%3A%2F%2Fdoi.org%2F10.1016%2Fj.erss.2017.06.033.

Southern Living (n.d.). How to Grow Fresh Figs Right in Your Backyard. Retrieved from: https://www.goodhousekeeping.com/home/gardening/a20705740/how-to-grow-figs/.

Sundin, A. Andersson, K., & Watt, R. (2018). Rethinking communication: integrating storytelling for increasing stakeholder engagement in environmental evidence synthesis. Environmental Evidence 7(6), 1-6. https://doi.org/10.1186/s13750-018-0116-4.