On a warming planet, some of the fastest increases in temperature are in the circumpolar north – the area inside and in some cases just below the polar circle. Overall, the average global temperature has increased by 1 degree Celsius since 1880. Two-thirds of this increase has occurred since 1975.
Since the 1990s, warming in particular has accelerated in the Arctic. Researchers say the region is warming two to three times faster than the rest of the planet. In some areas, such as Canada's Labrador Coast, the average annual temperature has risen by up to 3 degrees Celsius, causing drastic changes in weather, terrain and wildlife.
The Labrador Inuit who live in Nunatsiavut, a self-governing indigenous territory with five communities – Nain, Hopedale, Postville, Makkovik and Rigolet – that can only be reached by air, live in this coastal region. The communities are not connected by roads. Instead, navigation takes place via paths over increasingly unstable ice that is now suddenly thawing and littered with holes. Unpredictable seasons and severe storms have also made it difficult for the Inuit to get to the land that has supported them physically and spiritually for generations. Like other indigenous peoples, the Labrador Inuit have faced displacement and forced assimilation. Traditional activities such as fishing, trapping, hunting, and foraging are not just for a living. They are essential practices that underpin the Inuit culture and identity. Climate change has disrupted all of this, not only through changes in the ice, but also through changes in wildlife and plants.
But it goes beyond that. Climate change is affecting the mental health of the residents of this region.
In 2012, the leaders of the Nunatsiavut communities asked Inuit and non-Inuit researchers to conduct a regional study on the effects of climate change on mental health. More than 100 residents were interviewed as part of a multi-year study. The resulting report highlights the respondents' strong emotions and responses expressing fear, sadness, anger, fear, distress, depression, grief, and a deep sense of loss.
One of the interviewees tried to convey to the Inuit what the land is: “For us, going out in the country is a form of spirituality and when you can't get there you almost feel like your spirit is dying. "
A community leader expressed an existential fear: “Inuit are people of the sea ice. If there is no more sea ice, how can we be people of the sea ice? "
Ashlee Cunsolo, a public health and environmental expert who was a leading non-Inuit researcher, believes that grief – ecological grief, as she and other researchers have called it – is inextricably linked to climate change. She defines it as "the grief felt in relation to experienced or expected ecological losses, including the loss of species, ecosystems, and meaningful landscapes due to acute or chronic environmental changes."
A clear and present concern
The story of the Labrador Inuit is undoubtedly heartbreaking. Even so, most people probably feel that this scenario is quite a long way from their own life and losses. After all, our lives as global citizens of the 21st century are increasingly virtual, and even when we enjoy the outdoors, the idea that everything is tied to a particular country or place may seem strange.
But think a little more about it. Whether it's urban, suburban or rural, most of us have geographic preferences, be it on the coast, in the mountains, in bayou, on the prairie, in the desert, in the forest or in the canyon. It may be where you live now or where you grew up, but it calls you. And it has changed. The pond you skated in the winters of your childhood no longer freezes enough for you to handle your glide blades. Your favorite beach keeps losing sand to the ocean. The ski season now has both little time and fresh powder. Fire is prohibited on your favorite campsite. The city you live in has weathered a summer series of days higher than 90 degrees that you long for fall, but this time of year with cool, clear air is getting tougher. The heat lasts well into September and October as the trees in your neighborhood stay stubbornly green – until they turn brown.
The Austrian environmental philosopher Glenn Albrecht calls this feeling – a feeling of missing a place that you have never left because it has been changed by climate change – Solastalgia.
"I think the place can really be underestimated, but being connected is part of who we are," says Debbie Sturm, a member of the American Counseling Association, which is a member of the organization's Climate Change Task Force. "When a place is damaged or a place is threatened or a place is lost, it is a significant loss."
For example, the diaspora caused by Hurricane Katrina in 2005 was extremely traumatic, says ACA member Lennis Echterling, a disaster, trauma, and resilience expert who supported mental health support in New Orleans after the storm. In some cases, the people who desperately fled the floods and destruction barely knew where they were going. Many of the evacuees never returned.
"There is still a population that has been separated from their homes – their sacred ground," says Echterling, a professor at James Madison University in Harrisonburg, Virginia. While this phrase, holy ground, is most commonly associated with tribal populations, Echterling believes it applies to all of us – that we all have an intrinsic attachment to the place. And climate change will continue to separate people from their homes, he quotes researchers who forecast that by 2050 an estimated 1 billion people worldwide will be climate refugees.
Even those who have not been displaced or who have faced a climate catastrophe may find it difficult to avoid a creeping sense of existential fear – or eco-fear – when they witness one extreme weather event after another. On June 20, the temperature in the Siberian city of Verkhoyansk reached 100 degrees Fahrenheit, the hottest temperature ever recorded north of the Arctic Circle. Researchers say that such an event would be nearly impossible without the climate change caused by human activities (a one-off event in 80,000 years). In recent years, forest fires have turned entire California communities to ashes, and citizens along the coast have put on masks to protect themselves from a persistent cloud of smoke. In 2018, Hurricane Florence turned Interstate 40 in North Carolina into a river. Hurricane Harvey hit Houston repeatedly over six days in 2017, leaving a third of the city underwater at its peak. Approximately 40,000 Houston residents had settled permanently in the city after being evacuated from Katrina more than a decade earlier.
Every year the signs of a climate crisis are becoming more alarming and the psychological stress can be traumatic. Psychiatrist Lise Van Susteren, an expert on the psychological effects of climate change, coined the phrase “pretraumatic stress disorder” to describe the fear many people have of impending disasters.
Since 2008, the Yale Climate Change Communication Program and the Center for Climate Change Communication at George Mason University have conducted national surveys every two years to track public understanding of climate change. The latest survey results from November 2019 showed that 2 in 3 Americans were at least "somewhat concerned" about global warming, while 3 in 10 were "very concerned" about it. Most of the respondents were concerned about the possible damage caused by extreme events in their region.
The psychological effects of climate change go beyond catastrophes such as hurricanes and forest fires. Research has shown that there is a correlation between rising temperatures and increasing use of psychiatric emergency services, not only in places with regular hot weather, but also in relatively cool areas. Higher temperatures are also linked to increased suicide.
As the ACA Climate Change Task Force reports in its fact sheet (currently in progress), experts predict a sharp increase from mental health problems such as depression and anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorder, substance abuse and suicide to outbreaks of violence as a result of upcoming climate crises. The Task Force sees the strengths-based approach of the counseling profession and focus on resilience as essential to responding to those affected by the climate crisis.
In a study that has not yet gone to press, Sturm, ACA and Task Force member Ryan Reese and ACA member Jacqueline Swank interviewed a group of counselors, social workers and psychologists about their staff and professionals Perception of climate change. While Sturm, Reese, and Swank found these helping professionals believe, more than average, that climate change is real, very few felt that the problem was relevant to their professional lives. Many respondents also indicated that they did not feel safe in their practice to address issues related to climate change.
Climate change in the counseling center
Reese, a licensed professional counselor practicing in Bend, Oregon, believes that part of the counselors' discomfort is not knowing how to define, and thus identify, climate problems.
"What is climate change?" he asks. “Is it when you live in California and don't have a home anymore? … Is it a climate problem if a customer only talks about the general state of affairs and worries about the world for their children? "
Of course, climate change is also a polarizing topic, says Reese, assistant professor of counseling and director of the EcoWellness Lab at Oregon State University-Cascades. Sometimes when he talks to clients about broader health and wellbeing and the topic of climate change comes up, they will tell him that the news is false. "What should I do?" Asks Reese. “Will I get my point across? How do we find ways to introduce our wellness perspective without imposing it? "
Reese's practice is based on Ecowellness, a model that he developed together with Jane Myers and that revolves around a neurobiological relationship with nature. "The bridge here is:" Tell me about your relationship with nature, "he says.
Reese says he sees a significant amount of ecological anxiety and fear of the unknown, especially in his teenage clients. But they usually talk about depression.
Reese's admission process includes questions about spirituality and the meaning and purpose of life. He asks customers about their future prospects where their fear sometimes shows up. Questions about their relationship with nature often reveal the connection between this fear and their concerns about the climate.
When customers mention fear of the environment, Reese asks if they can unpack it a little more. He then asks questions about how a customer spends his time outdoors, how he gets to nature on a daily basis, where and how he feels most effective in nature, and whether he has hobbies that involve nature. He also encourages them to think about what role they can play: “You mentioned that you are afraid of what your future will bring. What, if anything, can you do now to allay your concerns about the environmental crisis? … What can you do within your immediate reach and control? "
Reese's approach is to see what the broader landscape of the individual looks like and what interests, passions and resources he has. He encourages his clients to get creative and often suggests that his teenage clients take action at school, such as starting a recycling program. One of his adult customers took the step of buying an electric bike and not riding his car as often to reduce its impact on the environment.
Reese also helps customers combine hobbies with environmental practices. For example, if you enjoy skateboarding, he will ask you what impact you think it has on the environment. That could lead them to take the step of picking up rubbish at the skate park.
"It's about how we can increase self-efficacy in response to the environment so that it is not abstract," he says. "This is something I can participate in and learn and maintain this particular activity for myself and other people."
Reese also asks customers to tell him about their activities. "For example, mountain biking is huge in Bend, but I don't know about it. … What is the environmental impact? Oh, you don't know either? Where can we find out?"
Climate change as social justice
The ACA Task Force for Climate Change notes that the trauma of climate change was and is being experienced disproportionately. Black, indigenous and colored people (and their communities), children, pregnant women, older adults, immigrants, people with limited English language skills, people with disabilities and people with pre-existing and chronic illnesses are more likely to be affected by the climate crisis and have fewer resources, to deal with its effects.
September marks the 15th anniversary of Hurricane Katrina, one of the strongest Atlantic storms of all time, on the Gulf Coast. It caused widespread devastation and flooding, including the overflow and eventual rupture of the levee system around New Orleans. As a result, 80 percent of the city was submerged.
New Orleans and Katrina are important to the discussion of climate change as a social justice issue for several reasons, says Cirecie West-Olatunji, a former president of ACA who now lives and works in New Orleans. "Katrina was our first climate change-related disaster," she says. "It informed the world and was a global example of what was to come."
West Olatunji provided disaster relief in the area of mental health after Katrina. "I could see the gaps," she says. "The normal answer [disaster] would not be enough." In particular, she recognized that the recovery period would be lengthy, the traumatic and mental health problems would be extensive, and the resources for rebuilding would be unevenly distributed.
In response to the tragedy of Hurricane Maria in Puerto Rico in 2017, the federal government's response to Katrina has been inadequate. A major barrier to recovery was highlighted, namely that "any differences that exist before a disaster become even greater after the disaster," said West Olatunji, associate professor and director of the Center for Traumatic Stress Research at Xavier University of Louisiana .
Racial injustice, economic instability, and government funds for economic development that were distributed to certain communities rather than others were among the factors that magnified the physical and psychological damage left by Katrina. And these factors are still hindering recovery today. "Fifteen years later, and New Orleans is still in trauma mode," claims West Olatunji.
There were several breaches of the dyke, but only one adjacent quarter – the historically black lower ninth district – was as good as written off at the beginning of the recovery phase, says West Olatunji. Many of the residents owned their homes but faced several obstacles in rebuilding. One of the most important factors has been the discrimination in the distribution of road home reconstruction funds in Louisiana. According to the Greater New Orleans Fair Housing Action Center (one of several plaintiffs in a lawsuit against the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development and the state of Louisiana), the program's own data showed that black residents were more likely than white residents to receive their grants are based on the much lower rush market value of their homes rather than actual repair costs. Other displaced people have not been able to return and now cannot afford to pay their homeowners' taxes, West Olatunji says.
What remains in Lower Ninth is an economic and food wasteland, in which there are practically no shops, apart from a few mom and pop shops and only one school, she says. Developers have bought properties and instead of properly renovating them by gutting and bleaching the houses, in many cases they have simply repainted them and exposed tenants to toxic mold.
In addition, much of what was done to rebuild New Orleans has made it uninhabitable for people on low and modest incomes, says West Olatunji. The city has leveled public housing and rents have skyrocketed. All of the city's schools are now charter schools, which essentially makes them private schools that only answer their shareholders, she explains. "Children are everywhere on buses … have to come out unaccompanied before daylight to find their way to school."
New Orleans' primary tourism industry has provided modest livelihoods for a significant number of residents for many years, says West Olatunji. Before Katrina, that income could buy a home at modest prices and even enable families to send children to state schools for higher education. Today, she says, the city “is being attacked by outsiders and carpet bagers who are buying up real estate. … We moved from majority home ownership to rentals and Airbnbs. "
New Orleans is also a much whiter city now. Although most of the white residents who fled the city because of Katrina have returned, New Orleans currently has about 100,000 fewer blacks than before the end of August 2005.
West Olatunji says that black citizens who have stayed or returned often refrain from doing so: "I survived Katrina just to deal with the coronavirus and the recent police brutality."
"Katrina's trauma was an overlay of pre-existing and ongoing stressful and racial events," she says. “It makes it really difficult to recover. … People are emotionally exhausted. "
Climate change should be of great concern to consultants, says West Olatunji. "It affects people's behavior and their choices. It restricts choice and creates life barriers. Our job is to help people live abundantly. Climate change doesn't make it that easy," she says.
ACA member Edil Torres Rivera, professor of Latinx studies and counseling at Wichita State University in Kansas, believes that climate change is still too often dismissed as a joke. "Climate change is real and … has an impact on mental health," he says, "especially populations such as poor, indigenous and colored people."
If you have any doubts, just visit Rivera's home island of Puerto Rico, where people are still trying to recover three years after Hurricane Maria. He says the urgency of the climate crisis is a primary reason he joined the ACA Climate Change Task Force.
In line with what happened in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina, Hurricane Maria displaced many people from Puerto Rico and those who continued to face numerous challenges, particularly with securing federal aid and addressing severe infrastructure deficits. Most critically, the island's electricity grid was decimated and it took approximately 11 months to reconnect electricity to those who lost it. But even now, says Rivera, it's still common for people to lose energy for hours in the rain. And last January, a major earthquake left most of the island without electricity for a few days.
Maria's trauma was compounded by the stress of the earthquake, which was compounded by the coronavirus pandemic. "People are desperate," says Rivera.
Many children in Puerto Rico are still scared when it rains heavily and the wind rises, he continues. And since the earthquake, people have often been reluctant to sleep in their homes, so they stay in tents. That scenario will be a big problem if a hurricane comes along, says Rivera.
Last summer in Puerto Rico was particularly hot, with several days reaching 103 degrees Fahrenheit. Rivera says this is higher than the norm when he was growing up and claims that it again points to the effects of climate change. On hot days, people usually go to the beach to cool off. However, the need for physical distancing due to the pandemic has largely eliminated this option. Still, there are those who, in the stifling heat, would rather take their risk of potentially exposure to the coronavirus. Another way to cool off when it's hot is with a beer, emphasizes Rivera. He says climate change has helped send both alcohol and domestic violence rates through the roof for several years. The forced proximity of the pandemic only exacerbates these tendencies, he adds.
Build resilience
Professional advisors need to be “involved and aware,” says West Olatunji. "We can't sit back and say that [climate change] has nothing to do with counseling."
In fact, the counseling profession uses a holistic, ecosystem perspective that looks at all factors that influence behavior, she emphasizes. To address climate change, counselors need to extend this model and consider structural interventions that target groups of people and focus on prevention. "Our discipline has always thought that prevention is the core of well-being," she says.
West Olatunji sees a great need for knowledge about climate change and notes that the people who need knowledge about the climate crisis most urgently – because it is most likely to affect them directly or indirectly – also have it least. Vulnerable communities need more information on how to reduce their risk and protect the health and safety of their citizens, she says.
Counselors can help communities build climate resilience by using their skills as facilitators to bring people together and help them work effectively as a group, says Mark Stauffer, member of the ACA Climate Change Task Force. These groups don't necessarily have to focus specifically on climate change, he says. They could be started to advocate for community needs, like the right to clean water or something more fun like setting up neighborhood gardens.
The essential thing is to do the group work and keep people coming together, he says. "People who come together in times of need – we have to practice that now," emphasizes Stauffer, the immediate past president of the Association for Humanistic Counseling, a division of ACA.
If counselors are personally concerned that their communities are not focused on climate change, Stauffer suggests holding a meeting of people who are interested in the topic. "See what people are thinking and where they're going," says Stauffer, a member of the core faculty of Walden University's mental health counseling program. "It's a process, but that's the good part – connecting and building ongoing relationships. … People in the church have to get used to working together. Dialogue is just as important, if not more important, than work."
Stauffer believes that counselors can play a key role in facilitating a new way of being in communities. He believes that Western society lived in a kind of imperial culture that focuses on what can be extracted. The mindset that started with Rome extracting treasures from Europe for itself and then Europe extracting treasures from its colonies has grown to a feeling that survival is about making and earning a living for yourself, he says .
Stauffer says that our image of a collective disaster survivor seems to be someone holding an AR-15 rifle in the air surrounded by supplies. "We find no joy here," he says. "Other cultures have established that we can survive and be sustainable together."
We have to find a way to be part of the earth generatively, emphasizes Stauffer. "The wilderness is not something to dominate and be afraid of," he says.
Sturm, associate professor and director of counseling programs at James Madison University, urges counselors to get involved in finding out if their communities have climate resilience groups. Counselors unsure where to start can refer to the United States Climate Resilience Toolkit (toolkit.climate.gov), a comprehensive resource that addresses community vulnerabilities and climate resilience efforts bring up to date.
Mental Health and Our Changing Climate: Impacts, Implications, and Guidelines, a 2017 report by the American Psychological Association, Climate for Health, and ecoAmerica, suggests various strategies for mental health professionals interested in improving the wellbeing of the Encourage the population and help mitigate climate-related mental health problems. Among the recommended strategies:
Assessment and development of mental health infrastructure in the community.
Reduce the differences and watch out for populations of concern.
Engage community members and train them how to respond.
Ensure the distribution of resources and expand them with external deliveries.
Clear and frequent communication between climate and mental health.
“Find out who is doing this in your area. Our voice has to sit at the table to talk about trauma, ”emphasizes Sturm, who is currently doing her Masters in environmental representation. "Consultants consider this to be important, but they don't. … We do not advocate being part of the discussion as a profession in our communities."
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Additional resources
To learn more about the topics discussed in this article, please refer to the following selected resources from the American Counseling Association:
Advice today (ct.counseling.org)
Books (Counseling.org/publications/bookstore)
Coping Skills for a Stressful World: A Workbook for Consultants and Clients by Michelle Muratori and Robert Haynes
Disaster Mental Health Counseling: Ein Leitfaden zur Vorbereitung und Reaktion, 4. Auflage, herausgegeben von Jane M. Webber und J. Barry Mascari
Einführung in die Krisen- und Traumaberatung, herausgegeben von Thelma Duffey und Shane Haberstroh
Fortlaufende berufliche Weiterentwicklung: Multikulturelle Produkte (aca.digitellinc.com/aca/specialties/158/view)
„Beratung von Flüchtlingen: Umgang mit Trauma, Stress und Belastbarkeit“ mit Rachael D. Goodman
„Die Erfahrungen der Klienten mit Rassismus ansprechen: Ein Modell für die klinische Praxis“ mit Scott Schaefle und Krista M. Malott
ACA Mental Health Resources (Beratung.org/knowledge-center/mental-health-resources/)
Trauma und Katastrophe
Familientrennung
Trauer und Verlust
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Laurie Meyers ist eine leitende Autorin für Counseling Today. Kontaktieren Sie sie unter [email protected].
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