Burnout, hope, and community: Katie looks back at the end of five years at UKYCC

by Katie Williams

The last five years

Five years ago, the world was a different place, and I was a different person. At the start of a 'decisive decade' for climate action, we were plunged into a global pandemic that devastated our health and our economies, and I joined an organisation that changed my life. Next year, I am leaving the UK Youth Climate Coalition, so I wanted to reflect on my time here. In tribute to my teenage love of musical theatre, this blog contains a series of thoughts and feelings about climate change and activism, loosely tied to songs from the time-bending musical The Last Five Years. 

Still hurting

Before I joined UKYCC I felt overwhelmed at the scale of the climate crisis, and very lonely with it. Starting a graduate job in a new city as the youth climate movement exploded in 2019, I was too old for the school strikes, and I sometimes felt like no one around me understood what was going on. 

One of the most meaningful things to me about joining UKYCC was finding a community of people who 'get it'. Yes, I'm still frustrated at the slow pace of change. Yes, I still feel crippling anxiety contemplating the scale of consumerism and fast fashion when I'm unfortunate enough to be stuck in a shopping mall. But it helps to know there are people who feel the same and are working to change things for the better. 

Joining UKYCC during a lockdown meant I didn't meet anyone in person until we attended COP26 in Glasgow. We marched as part of the Global Day of Action in the pouring rain until a rainbow appeared, and the joy of finally being together, dancing in the streets with people who cared, is something I'll never forget. I felt more optimistic after COP26 - as lockdowns were ending, it felt like there was potential to build something different. 

See, I'm smiling

It sometimes feels like there's nothing to smile about when it comes to climate change. But there really is good news. 

Renewables are cheaper than they've ever been, and economic growth is beginning to decouple from carbon emissions. 

'What about China?' is something every climate activist gets asked, and the good news is that China's emissions are flat lining, having stayed the same or decreased during 2023-2025. 

We have a UK government that is currently committed to ambitious renewable energy targets and no new licences for oil and gas exploration.

In the ten years since the Paris Agreement, we've gone from a predicted 4-5C of global warming by the end of this century, to 2-3C. There's still a long way to go, and that still means potentially very scary things for many people around the world. But we're moving in the right direction. 

Recently I was having a bad day and complained to my partner that it feels like no one is doing anything about climate change and all the other terrible things in the world. He gently reminded me that lots of people are doing things, even if I can't always see it. We hold on to hope.

Moving too fast

I'm burning out. Again. A lot of climate activists do this, throwing themselves into activism alongside work, education or caring responsibilities, losing sight of their own needs in their commitment to 'the cause'. In the last two years, I've hit some big grown up milestones and have been lucky enough to get married, buy my first house and get promoted at work. I took a break from volunteering in the run up to my wedding, and when I came back, I said I'd do better this time. I would notice when I was taking on too much and I would ask for help if I needed it. Spoiler alert, I did not do this.

A friend recently said to me that I made volunteering alongside my day job look 'easy', at which point I shared that I thought I might be burnt out. The way I've been operating is neither easy nor sustainable, especially as I get older and have more responsibility at work. The balance is never right. I always feel like I'm neglecting something - relationships, work, volunteering, household chores. I know I need to slow down but I don't know how. There is so much to do at home, at work, to stop the rising tide of racism, climate scepticism and assault on freedom to protest in this country. How can I rest? And does any of what I'm doing even make a difference?

To be clear, the pressure isn't coming from my peers - no one is asking me to take on more than I can. But how can I stop? I feel like I'm not doing nearly enough while running myself into the ground. 

A part of that

Community is one important thing that UKYCC has given me. The other thing is the chance to learn from my peers and be part of some great projects. 

In my time at UKYCC, I've worked on the How Green Is Your MP website, learned how to run an Instagram page, produced a podcast to platform the work of youth activists, and overcome my fear of public speaking. 

A particularly special (albeit stressful) project was the Power Shift 2023 conference we organised to celebrate 15 years of UKYCC, which brought together young people in London for a day of workshops, talks and learning from one another. Bringing us all together to learn, plan and occasionally dance is always worthwhile, and I leave every UKYCC event feeling nurtured, connected and inspired by our amazing people.

Another highlight was attending the UN climate talks in Bonn this year, meeting activists from around the world and getting to understand how international climate diplomacy works (and how it doesn't). We're just one small part of a big coalition fighting in that arena to make sure world leaders make the best decisions for all of our futures.

The next ten minutes

Did I mention, I'm tired? I'm also at a turning point. My 30s are looming, and I'm really an Adult now. Where will I go? What will I do? Will I (and when will I) have kids? Someone asked me recently where I see myself in five years time, but I barely know what I'll be doing tomorrow.

Meanwhile, I know I'm exhausted and I'm trying to remind myself not to jump straight on to the next project. The Christmas break will be a time to rest and figure out what I might do next. In the new year, I need to remember to make time for the things I enjoy - singing, dancing and spending time with my partner. I want to change the world, but I can't do it alone, and I can't do anything if I'm not taking good care of myself. 

Climbing uphill

In 2022, very tired on a train back from a UKYCC weekend in Liverpool, I saw a headline that made my stomach turn. Nigel Farage, now leader of the Reform Party, was calling for a referendum on net zero. Until then, I had thought he was mostly interested in using immigrants as a scapegoat for the failings of past governments to address economic crises with anything more imaginative than austerity. Today, Farage and much of the UK media seem hell-bent on destroying the majority consensus that we should do something about climate change sooner rather than later. 

Those same people also want to deny the humanity of anyone who wants to come here to build a new life after fleeing conflict and persecution, especially if they are a person of colour. But why?

Many people who come to the UK to build a new life via irregular routes are coming from places that are more vulnerable to climate change, despite having contributed less to global carbon emissions. To me, it seems it would be convenient for those who benefit from current economic models of overconsumption if people in wealthier countries believed that those people are less deserving of safety, dignity and a decent life. If people ‘over there' are less important than you, and climate change isn't affecting you yet, maybe we don't need to act so urgently. 

The politicians and newspapers who tell us that the person arriving in a small boat is coming to steal your job and that net zero is too expensive are peddling half truths and outright lies that serve the wealthiest in society, not the average person on the street. These voices are loud and they sometimes feel impossible to beat. They are giving us easy answers to complex problems. 

We need to get off our phones and into the real world to have nuanced conversations with people in our communities. We in the climate movement need to fight misinformation alongside migrant justice organisations, who are poorly resourced and directly threatened by far right activists. With politicians like Zack Polanski fighting against the media narrative on migration and climate justice, it seems like the tide is starting to turn. But we have a long way to go.

If I didn't believe in you

A turning point for my thinking about climate change was reading The Future We Choose. In the book, Christiana Figueres shares how she realised she was part of the problem after she told a press conference that a climate agreement between all countries would not be possible in her lifetime. She realised the first step had to be believing it was possible to do so; without this mindset shift, she would not have been able to bring people together to create the Paris Agreement. 

In the current political climate it feels like we have a fight on our hands. It's incredibly difficult, but I remind myself to hold onto optimism that we can make this world a greener, fairer place. 

Goodbye until tomorrow

It's always hard to say goodbye. My time in UKYCC has lasted longer than my degree or any paid job I've had since. The things I've learned here have built my confidence, helped me secure a job in sustainability, and expanded my understanding of climate justice. I know I've made lifelong friends, and it is so special to be part of this network of incredible people who are working every day to make the world a better place.

Being part of a UK-wide organisation means I've not spent as much time as I could have engaging with my local community. My journey in the youth climate movement is ending, but the urgency of the overlapping crises we face isn't going anywhere. I'm taking a step back for now to recalibrate, rest and recover from a busy year. When I'm ready, I hope to find ways to cultivate my own garden. 

Change starts at home. I hope we can make it happen.