Apr 73 min read

Editorial: Everything Sucks, and I Wish the Lorax Was My Dad

EDITORIAL

Written by Liam Hansen (they/them) | @liamhanse.n | Editor-in-Chief

Illustration by Younsoo (Chloe) Kim (she/her) | @ysksince0522 | Contributing Artist

I’ve been working at this magazine for two years, making this my third Green issue (I mean, technically my second since last year we called it the sustainability issue, but it’s the same gist). In 2022, I spoke to Te Herenga Waka - Victoria University of Wellington’s Fiona McBride about climate fatalism, and tendencies among young people to believe the climate’s already fucked, so there’s no point in trying to fix it. Last year, I wrote about Solarpunk - the utopian interpretation of cyberpunk where we get our shit together and beat climate change. I’m proud of both of these articles, especially the latter, and I really felt like I was contributing something semi-worthwhile to the climate discussion - even if it only ever reached a handful of AUT students.

It’s difficult to keep that positive morale up these days. I know I’m a bit of a hypocrite, considering how I criticised climate fatalism just two years ago - but fuck dude! The attitudes the coalition government have taken towards the climate, from re-establishing mining practices to kicking Auckland and Wellington public transport plans while they’re down like high school bullies, have been depressing, to say the least. Young people are still the strongest force against climate change, and more and more of us are slowly coming into power. Change feels impossible, but we can’t give up hope just yet.

I grew up on the outskirts of the Waitākere Ranges in West Auckland. Much of my childhood was spent exploring areas in the forests by my homes, being (sometimes literally) dragged on bush walks by my parents, and avoiding the sand during live music nights at Te Henga/Bethells Beach. The area is objectively beautiful - but I’ve always been a city slicker at heart, hence my moving into an overpriced flat in Grey Lynn during my second year of uni. About four days before I moved out, the Auckland Anniversary weekend floods hit, entirely destroying parts of the road that led to the home I spent my high school years in. It felt like a slap in the face, having Wayne Brown complain about “endless orange cones” in the CBD while it was literally impossible for some people to leave their homes due to road workers rushing to get the infrastructure in Waitakere back up and running.

I haven’t been back to Waitākere since my parents moved up north. I now live in Epsom, with a bright green feature wall in the lounge and Cornwall Park 15 minutes away. But I still think back to West Auckland often - it never truly felt like my area, but it’s still home to many of my childhood acquaintances and friends who have been forced to pick up the rubble

of a township torn apart by floods. Every time we drove up Scenic Drive, we passed the house of my brother’s childhood friend. Their house had to be demolished due to a cliff slip behind their whare during the floods.

These are the people who are affected by the climate crisis. While it’s easy for landlords in Devonport mansions to ignore the state of our rural communities, the truth is that nobody can outrun climate change forever. I’m tempted to finish this with some cliche line, like “We need to act now and act fast” - but you know that’s the case. The most important thing I can call for that doesn't feel like I’m beating a dead horse is to ask you all to get involved in local politics. You don’t necessarily need to become a council board member - but you can vote in the next local election in 2025, and you can go to akhaveyoursay.nz to learn about how the Auckland Council is aiming to distribute its funds and give feedback on what issues you think are most important for Tāmaki Makaurau - because otherwise, the only people being consulted by Auckland Council are the rich landlords in Devonport - in which case, we’re all doomed.