Author Sanjana Sekhar shares what climate fiction means to her, the future of climate justice and the art of storytelling
“The world that we live in is based on a certain story and we have to put all our energy into telling a different story.” Photo by Anumeha Sinha
Interested in climate fiction but don’t know where to start? 28-year-old Sanjana Sekhar, one of nine finalists of Grist's Imagine 2200 climate fiction writing contest, discusses climate fiction, intergenerational relationships, and using storytelling for advocacy.
For Sanjana Sekhar climate fiction wasn’t always at the forefront of her mind. But storytelling and writing came naturally. When Sanjana saw Grist's climate fiction writing contest, she didn’t know what to expect or how to begin her story, but she knew she wanted it to reflect her South Indian identity.
Her story spans generations but focuses on an Indian family preserving their traditions through “food, dance, and the latest communications fads.” Throughout the story, Sanjana also touches on her own feelings of climate anxiety. “[Writing this story] was my way through that anxiety by envisioning the possibilities for myself beyond fear,” she says.
Whether advocating for civil rights, education rights or climate action — storytelling has always been a powerful tool for activism and pushing policy change.
We spoke to Sanjana about the relationship between climate storytelling, and activism and how we can better support ourselves and others advocating a more just future and advice for young creative writers.
Imani White: Where did the idea for “Cabbage Koora” come from? And why did you write it now?
Sanjana Sekhar: I've been interested in climate fiction for a while because I come from a documentary background. I wanted to use fiction as a way to reach audiences and bring them into the [climate] movement.
I thought to write climate fiction I had to write some really trippy, sci-fi story or something very futuristic and I felt stuck because I didn’t know much about that. Then, a real, routine FaceTime conversation with my mom and grandma about a cabbage dish my grandma was making became the kernel of a story. I can't write something that I don't know, and what I know best is myself. And so what if I write about something from my own life?
Last year, I felt a deep sense of climate anxiety for the first time — and what my life might look like in the future. So my way through was envisioning the possibilities for myself beyond fear.
I also noticed a sense of isolation — like no one around me seemed to care. I hope that if I write about my own life and envision my own future, the people I know can connect to something and see that this is Sanjana's life and I know Sanjana, and if this is what's going to impact her, it is going to impact me too.
So I wrote this to combat my own climate anxiety and to show folks that the climate crisis is going to affect them whether they want to participate or not. That’s how that little cabbage moment with my mom and grandma grew into a greater, more generational conversation.
IW: Do you remember the first moment you recognized what climate fiction was?
SS: I love documentary filmmaking but I had this itch to go beyond it. I became interested in this idea of hiding the “pill in the peanut butter.” I see themes like mental health, immigration, racism, sexism built into the landscape of modern storytelling in a riveting way but I hadn’t seen that for climate.
So I took a step back from the screen to ask myself what prose feels like for me. I don’t know how to write [film] scripts but I do know how to tell stories. That was a connection that made sense.
“Writing is also a way for me to massage out the anxieties I have about my mom’s future. And if I have a daughter, how can I navigate caring so much about [these] women and girls in a changing world? How can I make the world better for them?”
IW: I love thinking about how this kind of storytelling is sparking conversations between different generations. There's a relationship between storytelling and activism — in both your story and in general — how are storytelling and activism intertwined for you?
SS: Totally. The more that I learn and the more that my own political literacy grows, I understand storytelling to be the core of activism. You're trying to galvanize people around an idea and empower them to participate in that movement. It’s not just an “FYI, this is happening” — which has been a lot of climate science up until now; a statement that something is happening. This isn’t a knock on science — but it’s a commentary on the fact that these things need to work together.
I think of Indigenous scientists who have been speaking about climate change through stories and mythology. The more I look at movements around the world like the Black Panthers, the Zapatistas, and activists in Palestine, storytelling is at the core of what they find important to share because it’s what’s going to bring people into the movement, see themselves and realize that there’s a better world possible.
Why I find storytelling so valuable is because there are so many people in the ecosystem of social change. You've got your protesters that are chaining themselves to fences, you've got your educators teaching. Not everyone is a storyteller by trade, but we are by spirit. And so that's how I think about storytelling and activism. The world that we live in is based on a certain story and we have to put all our energy into telling a different story.
IW: That's really beautiful. I noticed that your story is an intergenerational one that primarily features women. Talk to me more about that: why did you choose to have all the characters in your story be strong, resilient women?
SS: Well, strong, resilient women are all I know. I think in my head there's a world of women. I want to write what I know and a mother-daughter bond is what I know. My relationship with my mother is the most important one in my life. Writing is also a way for me to massage out the anxieties I have about this person my mom’s future. And if I have a daughter, how can I navigate caring so much about [these] women and girls in a changing world? How can I make the world better for them?
Illustrator: Mikyung Lee.
IW: I think a lot of the time when I think about climate fiction or sci-fi, it's very sterile and white — both in like the people present and the starkness of the subject. I envision a scientific lab somewhere. I did not get that from your story at all. It felt vibrant and alive. There were women of color as its main characters and food plays such a big part in your story. How has food played a role in your identity as a person and storyteller?
SS: A big part of it comes from the fact that I'm a big foodie, like 90% of my life is about food. And I think that’s how my mom is — we just love food. Food is what keeps us alive. My Ayurveda* teacher always says “food is nature transforming into you,” and I love that.
Food is also a community thing. It's a cultural thing. In so many ways, women are culture bearers and a big part of food is culture — whether through patriarchy or by choice. The relationship women have with food is passed down through generations.
Food also plays an important role from a climate standpoint. In the second chapter of the story, there are some struggles with food — the characters don't get mangoes anymore. The cabbage isn’t growing. There are limitations when it comes to food availability — but in that sense, the story is also a meditation on the sweetness of appreciation.
IW: What advice do you have for young writers? Specifically for anyone interested in climate fiction, or storytelling in general?
SS: The two pieces of advice that come to mind — or at least the two things that have helped me a lot — are first: reading, and second: taking yourself seriously.
I love reading fiction, nonfiction, and just staying in the loop with current events because it helps me understand the landscape, especially when I’m thinking about climate. What’s happening now? What’s projected to happen and what are people trying to make happen?
Plug into your communities and what's happening around you. What are people saying and doing? What are you noticing? I'm a big note-taker. I just jot things down all day long. The notes don't even necessarily go anywhere, but just the act of taking the note helps me crystallize that information somewhere in my brain, and it winds up influencing something down the line.
And second, take yourself seriously as a writer. When I was 13, I was writing so much fiction and I didn't take it seriously. I just thought it was something I did because I was a kid and I had an imagination and I, you know, was reading all these cool fiction books and young adult books, and they inspired me. And so I would just write a chapter of a random story and it would never go anywhere. I never took it seriously. I was like, this is, I guess, just something that I do. And then I moved on with my life to the things that I thought I was supposed to be doing. But if you take it seriously, that's when you can intentionally develop it [writing] as a strength. And if you take it seriously enough, other people will take it seriously too.
And so that's something I'm still learning.
IW: If there's one thing you'd like people to take away from your story, what would it be?
SS: The one thing that I want people to take away is things are going to change, but we have the power to determine how they change.
“Storytelling is at the core of what they [activists] find important to share because it’s what’s going to bring people into the movement, see themselves and realize that there’s a better world possible. ”
IW: My last question is broader when thinking about climate anxiety and the climate crisis. How do you remain hopeful and positive, despite everything?
SS: I think hope is my responsibility. It's not a luxury, it’s a requirement. First of all, there are plenty of people who are so affected by this issue and other issues like racism, classism, sexism, ableism all at once. I have to have hope alongside them.
Against all odds, folks on the fringes, so to speak, of society are often the most radically imaginative. And I learn from that. And that in turn makes me hopeful. It's an exchange, a positive cycle. And then it can go on into If you look at any major movement for justice throughout history, whether that's civil rights or women's rights, so many people who participated in the movement whose names we’ll never know. They didn't even necessarily live to see the fruits of their labor. But it was essential to the outcomes that we now celebrate. And to me, being hopeful is my way of staying in the game and I have to stay in the game. I saw a really beautiful quote about hope that I would love to share:
“People speak of hope as if it is this delicate, ephemeral thing made of whispers and spider's webs. It's not. Hope has dirt on her face, blood on her knuckles, the grit of the cobblestones in her hair, and just spat out a tooth as she rises for another go.”
*Ayurveda is the ancestral South Asian "science of life," encompassing preventative and curative wellness rooted in traditional socio-ecological knowledge.
This interview was condensed and edited for clarity.
If you’re interested in reading the 2024 Imagine contest collection winners, check them out here.
Read more
