Earth Day 2022
The theme for Earth Day this year is “Invest in Our Planet”. This seems very fitting, considering how the world’s economy has shifted and changed over the course of the past couple of years. With a pandemic sweeping all nations across the globe, it is imperative to take an in-depth look at how our priorities, from a climate and human context, have witnessed massive transformations because investing is not merely monetary.
Mother Earth and her wellbeing are slowly but surely making their way to centre stage. Although new obstacles, in the form of greenwashing and faux transparency will continue to emerge, we must acknowledge that these are weak attempts for distractions. Think of it like a Band-Aid covering an open wound, works for a short amount of time and is no way efficient. As a matter of fact, it is a momentary illusion. Therefore, silence makes us accomplices to the atrocious greed of capitalism, which we must move against.
In terms of making, promoting and selling, the fashion industry business climate is undergoing a facelift, that remains imperfect. UCRF recognises the dire need of a direct, honest and realistic response plan from the fashion industry, to minimise the normalised ecological damage and blatant human exploitation. Business practices and manufacturing processes need to be questioned, debated and updated. It is by embracing science and listening to all of the lives involved and impacted, that the possibility of change increases.
Although we are running out of time to stay atop of the global climate crisis, this Earth Day begs to ask how are we willing to invest in it today. Connecting to our roots and looking back at our ancestors, will allow us to rediscover nature from behind the fog of capitalism, making it an effective catalyst for collective action and redirection of funds.
The April day is gorgeous, there is a clear sky and there is a small warmth in the sun – an amount that seems surprising given I am in the high ground of the north of England. As I follow a contour through a field with sheep and thistles, the call of curlews bounce off the hills and the ceiling of the sky. The curlews are on the wing, in pairs, their large, speckled brown bodies moving, loose and easy. Against the sky, I can pick them out but with the land as backdrop, they disappear, their camouflage complete. It is a feat, like the flick of a switch. Seen. Unseen. As I climb over a pass, a single curlew calls out and then flies up in a tussle with a crow. The curlew chases the crow and her white chest flashes as she dives and swoops on it, mobbing it, like she is a hawk. Two birds in one: languid brown wader and white dart. Both parts of her live in this stony, coarse reed, grass-tussocky valley. The land is rich in life but it’s not prototypically pretty, easily overlooked if postcards are your business. KF