Rise

By Kathy Jetñil-Kijiner and Aka Niviâna

Sister of ice and snow

I’m coming to you

from the land of my ancestors,

from atolls, sunken volcanoes–undersea descent

of sleeping giants

Sister of ocean and sand,

I welcome you

to the land of my ancestors

–to the land where they sacrificed their lives

to make mine possible

–to the land

of survivors.

I’m coming to you

from the land my ancestors chose.

Aelon Kein Ad,

Marshall Islands,

a country more sea than land.

I welcome you to Kalaallit Nunaat,

Greenland,

the biggest island on earth.

Sister of ice and snow,

I bring with me these shells

that I picked from the shores

of Bikini atoll and Runit Dome

Sister of ocean and sand,

I hold these stones
picked from the shores of Nuuk,

the foundation of the land I call my home.

With these shells I bring a story of long ago

two sisters frozen in time on the island of Ujae,

one magically turned into stone

the other who chose that life

to be rooted by her sister’s side.

To this day, the two sisters

can be seen by the edge of the reef,

a lesson in permanence.

With these rocks I bring

a story told countless times

a story about Sassuma Arnaa, Mother of the Sea,

who lives in a cave at the bottom of the ocean.

This is a story about

the guardian of the Sea.

She sees the greed in our hearts,

the disrespect in our eyes.

Every whale, every stream,

every iceberg

are her children.

When we disrespect them

she gives us what we deserve,

a lesson in respect.

Do we deserve the melting ice?

the hungry polar bears coming to our islands

or the colossal icebergs hitting these waters with rage

Do we deserve

their mother,

coming for our homes

for our lives?

From one island to another

I ask for solutions.

From one island to another

I ask for your problems

Let me show you the tide

that comes for us faster

than we’d like to admit.

Let me show you

airports underwater

bulldozed reefs, blasted sands

and plans to build new atolls

forcing land

from an ancient, rising sea,

forcing us to imagine

turning ourselves to stone.

Sister of ocean and sand,

Can you see our glaciers groaning

with the weight of the world’s heat?

I wait for you, here,

on the land of my ancestors
heart heavy with a  thirst

for solutions

as I watch this land

change

while the World remains silent.

Sister of ice and snow,

I come to you now in grief

mourning landscapes

that are always forced to change

first through wars inflicted on us

then through nuclear waste

dumped

in our waters

on our ice

and now this.

Sister of ocean and sand,

I offer you these rocks,
the foundation of my home.

On our journey

may the same unshakable foundation

connect us,

make us stronger,

than the colonizing monsters

that to this day devour our lives

for their pleasure.

The very same beasts

that now decide,

who should live

who should die.

Sister of ice and snow,

I offer you this shell

and the story of the two sisters

as testament

as declaration

that despite everything

we will not leave.

Instead

we will choose stone.

We will choose

to be rooted in this reef

forever.

From these islands

we ask for solutions.

From these islands

we ask

we demand that the world see beyond

SUV’s, ac’s, their pre-packaged convenience

their oil-slicked dreams, beyond the belief

that tomorrow will never happen, that this

is merely an inconvenient truth.

Let me bring my home to yours.

Let’s watch as Miami, New York,

Shanghai, Amsterdam, London,

Rio de Janeiro, and Osaka

try to breathe underwater.

You think you have decades

before your homes fall beneath tides?

We have years.

We have months

before you sacrifice us again

before you watch from your tv and computer screens waiting

to see if we will still be breathing

while you do nothing.

My sister,

From one island to another

I give to you these rocks

as a reminder

that our lives matter more than their power

that life in all forms demands

the same respect we all give to money

that these issues affect each and everyone of us

None of us is immune

And that each and everyone of us has to decide

if we will rise