Call Your Mother

By Sophia Brokenshire

As children, the world is brimming with endless possibilities—each dream feels within reach, and every tomorrow offers a fresh start. On days when reality falls short, our bedrooms transform into hospitals, our pets take on the role of dedicated assistants, and our mother’s car turns into the wailing ambulance rushing to save the day. The next day, we're no longer a doctor, but rather an accomplished pilot or our mother’s hairdresser. These childhood worlds we create thrive because those we trust allow our imaginations to roam freely. 

It's often said that our mother stays still, so one day we can look back and see how far we’ve come. It’s a comforting notion, but not entirely true, is it? While we are busy growing up, we forget that our mother is aging right alongside us. Notice how I say ‘our’ mother, not ‘your’ or ‘mine,’ because even though we may not know each other, we share a mother—and we always have. She’s much too vast for either of us to fully understand. Sometimes she’s blue, sometimes green; other parts of her are gray, burnt to the ground, wounded by time and our actions. Yet she shields us from the full view of her scars—scars that reflect our own mistakes. She is a mother to eight billion souls, but can’t you see how much she’s sacrificed for you to grow into the strong, healthy person you are today? 

Go to her—she’s waiting for you in that hospital you once built with nothing more than your imagination. When you step inside, she’ll embrace you, reminding you of every meal she pulled from her very essence to nourish you. Every snow-covered winter she placed on your doorstep, every sweltering summer day that drew you to the pool—these were her gifts. You’ll feel the cool grass under your feet again, the wind on your face as you run after your friends, and in that moment, you’ll realize she’s been there all along, aging with you, carrying your world as you carried your dreams. Although you don’t want to let go, her blistering heat becomes unbearable, and you’re forced to take a step back. That’s when you’ll finally see it—her suffering, borne from the weight of your comfort and survival. You’ll notice the trash strewn across her surface, discarded by her own children, the scars from fires that ravaged her lands, and the destruction left in their wake. The animals she once sheltered cry out for her help, but it is we who have silenced their calls. You’ll feel the grime of coal pressed into your skin from her once warm embrace. It stings, and you’ll instinctively want to wash it away. But every time you cleanse yourself, a new layer appears. Her pain has become a part of you now, inescapable, layered upon you as a testament to the harm done in the name of progress. Although you may feel the urge to run far, far away, I urge you to stay. Too many of her children have already abandoned her as she pleads, ‘It is not too late—carry me now so that I can one day carry your own children.’ 

In a moment of profound despair, you reach for our mother’s medical chart, resting quietly at the foot of her bed. The weight of the paper feels heavier than ever as your eyes scan the details of her condition. Since 1900, her temperature has risen by approximately 1 degree Celsius, crossing over three critical health thresholds. The alarming figures leap off the page, a stark reminder of the toll time and neglect have taken. Then, on the side of the chart, a handwritten note catches your eye. Dr. Salas’s handwriting is firm but filled with a quiet urgency: "We are the last to be able to change the course" of her wellbeing. The words are both a warning and a call to action. There is still hope, but it is fading fast. Beneath the note, you see a new prognosis—an achievable goal, still within our grasp: "With decisive action, we can limit her temperature rise to 2 degrees Celsius by 2100." The prognosis isn't certain, but it is possible. It is a reminder that, despite the challenges ahead, we hold the power to shape the future if we act swiftly and with purpose. As you hold the chart, you remember the Earth as she was: vibrant, teeming with life, her oceans endless and skies a brilliant blue. These gifts of Earth do not have to fade with time. They can endure, for us and for the generations to come. But the responsibility is ours.

You may be thinking, "I am just one among eight billion—what can I possibly achieve?" I know that feeling well. I’ve felt it myself—sometimes so strongly that it led me to carelessness. I've watched friends casually drop trash by the roadside and thought, 'It’s a lost cause anyway.' I've lingered under a hot shower, indulging in the comfort while ignoring the cost. I’ve ordered more food than I could ever finish, only to throw it away the next day. I’m guilty of letting a sense of helplessness excuse my inaction. However, we must remember every transformative idea in history started with a single person. With persistence and support, those ideas reshaped the world and will continue to shape the future. Change begins with you, and through your influence, it can spread into an unwavering collective force. 

Take the ozone layer, for example; In 1974, scientists Frank Sherwood Rowland and Mario Molina published a groundbreaking study, proposing that chlorofluorocarbons (CFCs) were breaking down ozone in the stratosphere—our mother's protective shield against harmful UV radiation. Just nine years later, the British Antarctic Survey made a chilling discovery: the "ozone hole" over Antarctica was not just a theoretical risk, but a stark, observable reality. This alarming revelation sparked widespread concern, pushing the issue of ozone depletion into the global spotlight. The urgency of the situation prompted governments, scientists, and the public to take immediate action. In 1987, just two years after the ozone hole was confirmed, the Montreal Protocol was signed—an unprecedented international treaty aimed at phasing out the production of ozone-depleting substances like CFCs. The rapid response, grounded in science and global cooperation, catalyzed a shift in environmental policy and set the stage for the ozone layer's eventual recovery. Today, the success of the Montreal Protocol stands as a testament to what can be achieved when the world unites to tackle a shared environmental crisis.

I imagine you feel a glimmer of hope, and that is natural. Hope is a powerful motivator, a force that drives us to take action. But we must tread carefully—hope, if left unchecked, can easily become a source of complacency. It can breed a dangerous illusion that the problem is already solved or that the path to healing is simple. We cannot afford to let hope blind us to the complexities of the challenge before us. Our mother’s climate crisis is not a problem with a clear, straightforward answer. It is a wicked problem—a web of interconnected issues that defy easy solutions, a dilemma where every attempt to address it uncovers new layers of complexity. There is no definitive fix, no singular approach that can restore balance. And there is no laboratory in which we can test each solution with certainty. We are navigating uncharted territory, and the stakes have never been higher. Our mother is home to nearly eight billion people, each with their own needs, aspirations, and challenges. For many, access to education is a distant dream, and the ability to advocate for environmental change is an unimaginable luxury. In some places, the struggle for survival leaves little room for long-term thinking or the luxury of putting off immediate needs for future rewards. For others, the weight of privilege allows them to ignore the damage being done, to look away, or to deny the urgency of the situation. 

In this world of vast inequalities, individual action—while important—is simply not enough. We cannot rely on isolated efforts to turn the tide. The magnitude of the crisis demands a collective response, a unified effort across borders, industries, and communities. No single person, organization, or nation can solve this alone. It will require systemic change, bold leadership, and a radical reimagining of how we live on this planet. We must build bridges, empower those without a voice, and create pathways for everyone—no matter their circumstances—to be part of the solution. Only through collective action, driven by empathy, justice, and a shared commitment to our future, can we hope to heal our mother. The time to act is now, and it will take all of us, together. While this is just the tip of the iceberg, I strongly encourage you to start conversations about climate change within your community. By initiating dialogue, you can inspire a collective effort to prioritize environmental sustainability. With consistent advocacy, these concerns can grow, ultimately reaching the attention of county and state officials who represent the voices of the people. Together, we can create a ripple effect that drives meaningful change. Our mother is calling–it’s time to pick up.