The spotlight
When Kristy Drutman attended the UN climate negotiations in Poland in 2018, she was struck by how impersonal everything felt. As a climate storyteller, educator and social media influencer, Drutman’s work has placed a strong emphasis on people and connections. “It just felt like people were really disconnected from each other,” she said of the conference. She thought the climate movement as a whole could benefit from placing a greater emphasis on relationships.
Three years later, she returned to the UN conference and set a table with a sign: “Looking for love? Come on a climate speed date.” People seemed to like it. “We actually had people who were in the negotiating rooms — policy people from different countries participated in it,” she said. Last fall, she flipped the idea in a more intentional matchmaking setup, she began hosting filmed meetups in New York and posting episodes of the show—called Love and Climate – on Instagram, TikTok and YouTube.
In the first few months of the project, Drutman says that no bona fide couples have yet emerged — but several couples have gone on second and third dates. “They told us we gave them a better match than Tinder or Bumble,” she said. “So I was like, ‘You know what? We’re better than dating apps, hell yeah.’” But even on the apps, young people are increasingly looking for matches who share their climate concerns. According to data from OKCupidclimate change was the top issue daters cared about in 2022, with a 368 percent increase over the previous five years in climate and environmental terms on users’ profiles.
In the wild, Drutman met several “climate couples” who got to know each other through their work or collaborations or even went to a climate march — “I’ve heard that story a few times,” Drutman said.
In this Valentine’s Day newsletter, we share stories of couples, friends and co-workers who met through some form of climate work. Somewhat like the participants in Drutman’s speed-dating program, many of these people found each other because they were looking for companionship – in their work, in a new place, or in solidarity around a specific issue. They all found meaningful relationships that enriched their climate work and their lives. Their stories serve as reminders of the joy that can be found in action and building community around a shared commitment to a clean, green and just future.
Eileen Liu has been an environmental activist since middle school. When she moved to a new town for high school, “I didn’t know anyone or have any friends,” she said. “But I knew the current climate crisis was a problem that many other youth my age were passionate about solving.” Last January, as a second-year student, she took the Menlo-Atherton Reusable Club – a student group focused on policy changes targeting plastic waste in San Mateo County, California. “Through the reuse community, I have met so many inspiring people, and formed close friendships,” said Liu. The club now has about 20 members, and Liu describes it as “one big group of friends.”
But a few connections stand out — including her now best friend, Ella. “When I planned the logistics of the club in July 2022, I was familiar with Ella,” said Liu. “After she joined the club, we found out that we actually share a lot of hobbies – aside from environmentalism – like writing letters to pen pals, fangirling from BlackPink and Grey’s Anatomy, and photography!” Ella is now one of the leaders of the club, as are two of Liu’s other closest pals. When they’re not advocating for reusable products or listening to BlackPink, the two like to get up early to walk the Stanford Dish (a nearby trail on Stanford University’s campus)—they love to see turkeys and other wild animals in the hills.
Earyn McGee also met a good friend after a move—for her, it was moving back home to Los Angeles after getting her Ph.D. in the conservation of natural resources. McGee (which on us 2021 Grist 50 list) was passionate about nature and wildlife (esp lizards) since she was a child—and she’s also become an educator and advocate for BIPOC representation in the outdoors. She was one of the original organizers behind Black Birders Weekand when she moved to LA in 2022, she was invited to a local meeting as part of the third annual Black Birders Week. “It was just a lot of fun — everybody was looking at birds and talking and having a good time,” McGee said. And it was there that she met T’Essence Minnitee.
“It was funny — we met and she told me that we were going to be friends, and I was like, ‘Okay, I believe you!'” McGee recalled. “We had many shared interests and values. You know, you just click with someone — that’s kind of how it was.”
They enjoyed going to other green events together, such as radical clothes swaps and climate-themed dinners, as well as non-climate-centric hangouts. “She’s one of those people where I can always just beat her about anything. Having her friendship is just as meaningful to me.”
Among other roles, Minnitee is the director of strategic partnerships at Black Girl Environmentalist, and McGee now works as the coordinator of conservation engagement at the LA Zoo — and they also hope to work together professionally, McGee said. “Hopefully this summer we’ll start putting together some opportunities to get black women and other women of color and gender non-conforming people into conservation, environmental and climate change careers, and create resources in those ways. “
Jenni Vanos and David Hondula first met at the 2011 International Congress of Biometeorology in Auckland, New Zealand. They were both there to conduct research from their Ph.D. studies in atmospheric and environmental sciences respectively. It was Vanos’ first time attending the conference, and she remembers Hondula being very welcoming and friendly. “We both realized we were staying a few days longer in New Zealand, so did some sightseeing together to a few of the islands, including climbing a volcano on Rangitoto Island,” she said. “Of course we got along very well from the beginning.”
At the time, she was studying at the University of Guelph in Canada, and he was at the University of Virginia. “We were actually good colleagues and friends for about three years before we started dating,” Vanos said. They kept in touch through their work, seeing each other at other conferences and workshops. When they decided to take things to the next level, Vanos was living in Texas and Hondula in Arizona. Their relationship was long-distance for about four years before Vanos was able to land a job at Arizona State University, where they are now both associate professors. (Hondula also leads Phoenix’s Office of Heat Response and Mitigation.)
“We are both very passionate about the work we do, but we have many other hobbies and interests that we do together and with our family and friends,” Vanos shared, including traveling and all kinds of outdoor sports — and now taking care of their growing family. Their son, Evan, is 2 years old, and their second child is due in May.
And to bring things full circle, last year the pair helped host the 23rd annual Congress of Biometeorology at ASU.
Thelma and Fenton on their wedding day, taking in the view of the Fijian mountains. Ropate Kama
“Our story is one of multiple cyclones,” said Thelma Young Lutunatabua. She first met her husband, Fenton Lutunatabua, in 2015 when they were both working for 350.org – she was based in New York, and he was in Fiji. “The first time I ever heard his voice was when he called me in the middle of the night after a cyclone hit Vanuatu and asked if I could help build a missing persons tracking system.” After that, they collaborated on a number of storytelling projects focused on frontline solutions and resistance in the Pacific. But things changed when Cyclone Winston, a Category 5 storm, hit Fenton’s home country of Fiji.
“That’s when we started calling each other and connecting more, and had deeper conversations especially around the emotional side of disaster response work,” said Thelma. They also exchanged personal numbers and started talking more about life outside of work.
This distant friendship progressed for several months, with a flirtatious undertone. They finally had the opportunity to meet in person in May 2016, at 350’s all-staff retreat in Spain. “There was definitely that energy of expectation and hopefulness,” Thelma said. “He met me at the airport in Barcelona and picked me up, and then we walked around the Gothic Quarter of Barcelona together.” It didn’t take long for them to know that there was something more there. “Our last night in Barcelona, we just, like, got pizza and we were talking and he was like, ‘You have to come to Fiji’.” And later that year she did.
Thelma and Fenton are now happily married – they eloped in the mountains of Fiji during a surprise downpour – and are parents to a 14-month-old son, Anders. “We met through storytelling and we both still do it actively, both with our work and our own creative practices,” said Thelma. “And we both remain committed to telling the whole truth about climate – that it’s not just about despair and destruction, but there’s also so much hope in the process.”
– Claire Elise Thompson
More exposure
A parting shot
For some, climate connections are more than one person, but an entire community. Leo Goldsmith (who we heard from research on climate impacts on foreign populations) told us about his experience on the board of OUT for Sustainability. “Prior to joining, I met some of the members through a research paper we wrote together on climate-related disaster impacts on LGBTQIA+ communities,” Goldsmith said. “Now being part of OUT4S has allowed these relationships, and new ones, to grow. Through our mutual goal of working for climate justice for LGBTQIA+ communities, we work together as a community to uplift each other and the communities we hope to serve through advocacy, resources, and education. The sign is shown here during a gathering in the summer of 2022.
