So it’s almost 1:30 in the morning on Saturday. My plane leaves in about four hours, and by 11, I will be in Michigan with my grandparents. As happy as I am to see them, I’m extremely sad that this wonderful experience is practically over for me, especially when there’s a week left to go. I’m not ready for it to be done, and I’m not ready to leave all of these wonderful people, even though some things have not been going so well.If you read Bob’s last post, you’ll notice that I have been quite upset with my country, the United States, and the way they are handling negotiations and text changes.

Don’t get me wrong—I have loved CSD, more so than I ever thought I would. Meeting other youth from around the world, forming opinions on key issues, making statements…it’s amazing, and describing it just wouldn’t do it justice. However, it is also very frustrating that the country which I’m representing, my home, is pushing for textual changes within the document that (let’s face it), make the suggestions it contains hardly worth as much as the paper it’s printed on.

I have been joking with several youth delegates about changing nationalities, so I’m no longer associated with the US and it’s usually narrow view. Belgium was very receptive, Bob said I could be Canadian if I wanted to, and Turkey sounded promising. I was busy trying to learn how to say “goodbye” in Turkish.

This morning, I was talking with a youth representative from Israel, named Eyal. We had been discussing an article he wrote, all about how the consumption in the West needed to be contained and declined, or else changes wouldn’t happen. At this point, frustrated again by the US’s unwillingness to commit to any real changes, I asked if I could come to Israel. Eyal gave me an odd look and asked “Why?”

“So I can represent a country that isn’t trying to place blame on everyone else, that has no desire to change it’s overly-consumptive ways. Even you pointed that out.”

“But you are American,” Eyal countered. “You care, and you want to see changes. America is where you need to be.”

I sat back and played with that idea. It made sense, of course, because I do care a great deal about where this country, this world even, is going. If we keep going on the path we’re on, small islands like Tuvalu will be underwater; Cyprus, (as I learned today), will be engulfed by desert; and places that are already facing a multitude of problems, like Africa, will see an intensification of the challenges facing them. Heck, my home until I was 18, south Florida, where my parents and younger sister who I love so, so much live, will be only a memory.

But how do I get involved and try to make changes in such a place, when the US, the main problem to many people, is showing absolutely no signs of budging from the oil and carbon-hungry mindset it has? As much as I believe in the power to change the world, what in the world could I really do?

It was then that I focused on where I was. Eyal, Bob, Ruthie, Chloe, Lauren, and I had gone to a side event titles “Penguins on Thin Ice.” It was a musical about global warming and climate change put on by the women’s glee club of New York’s High School for Environmental Studies (HSES). As I watched these youth, my peers, really, sing about how the ice is melting, how islands are drowning, how we are still in love with oil, I was filled with an immense sense of hope, one which I haven’t felt in a very, very long time. I realized that these were the people I was specifically representing: the youth and children of the US, the youth and children who were singing at the top of their lungs for a change, the youth and children who are out there giving it everything they got, whether they felt they could change things or not.

The rest of the show was magnificent. Truly the most amazing thing at the UN, I’d say, at least personally. I don’t cry, as I’ve asserted many times, but my eyes were definitely misty when the show closed (no teasing, Bob!!). There I vowed that as long as there are people out there fighting for changes, then I would join them and fight as well. At the end of the day, the worst thing that I can say is that “I tried my very best.”

I spent the rest of the day after that with a bit of a different outlook. I went to negotiations, talked with the US delegate, had several discussions with the other youth representatives, and came to my conclusion around the time a group of us started off for dinner:

CSD is, and I feel will be, a very important meeting for countries for a good while. It’s a wonderful venue for many who normally don’t have a voice in policy to speak up and be heard. It’s an even better way to educate governments and delegates, as those of us who have been lobbying can attest to. It can also be seen as a crucial part of soft policy, which can help many countries in implementing changes. However, until those that are responsible really start to account for their actions, and language moves from “welcomes” and “invites” to “strongly suggests” or even “requires” (I know, probably not going to happen…), we on the ground, at the so-called “lower” levels, must go on without prodding. Enough of us are making a racket about this; we need to come together as a strong, unified voice, to say “we must change NOW.”

Again, saying goodbye to everyone is hard, but it gives me such hope for our future, knowing that my friends are all over the country, all over the world, spreading the same message I am. I would like to go back to CSD next year, to reunite with old friends, make new ones, and renew our urges for a better world—not just for the youth and children, but for all who call this magnificent place home.

Wow. Sorry this was a long one. I think the girls who walked into the room would like to go to sleep, without the light I have on to type. I have so many messages to convey, so many ideas in this head of mine, I don’t know how to end this. I guess I will have to rely on the words of another:

" Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has." - Margaret Mead  

☺

Lindsay Baker