A Day in the Life at COP30

If you’ve been following my work for a while, you know that the annual UN Climate Conferences (COPs) aren’t exactly glamorous. They’re inspiring, stressful, frustrating, hopeful, exhausting, and energizing all at once.

Here at COP30 in Belém, Brazil, I’ve been working for the small island state of Palau, and the conference has, true to form, been all of these things rolled into one, and I thought you might find the daily details of what happens at these unique meetings interesting.

My work this year has had me deep in the weeds of climate finance negotiations, the alphabet soup of COP, where terms like NCQG (New Collective Quantified Goal), SCF (Standing Committee on Finance), GEF (Global Environment Facility), GCF (Green Climate Fund), AFB (Adaptation Fund Board), FRLD (Fund for responding to Loss and Damage), and Article 2.1(c) (all finance acronyms/terms) get tossed around like everyone was born speaking the unique United Nations language that intends to save Earth from burning. These discussions ultimately decide whether frontline communities, including small island states like Palau, will actually receive the financial support they need to survive a warming planet. Palau and developing nations like it around the world contribute nearly nothing to the cause of our climate crisis, yet are subject to its warming oceans, elevated temperatures, and rising sea levels in alarming, disproportionate ways that place their nations and the people who live there at dire risk. So yes, the stakes are high… and the hours are long.

Daily Schedule: 8 AM – 9 PM (or Later)

Most mornings start with a quick breakfast eaten while scrolling through overnight draft negotiation texts and tracking which paragraphs have magically appeared, disappeared, or multiplied. By 8:00 AM, I’m heading through security on my way to the Alliance of Small Island States’ (AOSIS) morning coordination, where small island nations coordinate their positions on different agenda topics to align as a larger group of 39 countries.

After that, and maybe grabbing another cup of coffee, it’s time to sit through, some days, four or five negotiations in a row (Article 9.5 transparency, the Standing Committee on Finance (SCF), Global Environment Facility (GEF) replenishment guidance, Adaptation Fund negotiations), and so forth. Each one with its own tone, tensions, and tiny battles hiding in the footnotes.

It is during these meetings that you hear nations argue over whether the COP will “invite,” “request,” or “urge” countries to contribute to a fund (yes, this matters). Developing countries will fight to keep language, ensuring that all developing nations, not just a select few, have access to the funds they need to protect themselves. Developed countries will insist on deleting paragraphs that micromanage the fund’s Board. Small Island Developing States (SIDS) and Least Developed Countries (LDCs) will try to hold the line on adaptation finance and the New Collective Quantified Goal on Climate Finance (NCQG) target. Everyone will bracket everything (bracketed text is not agreed upon or official until the brackets are removed).

By late afternoon or, on many days, evening, the room temperature is usually warm (or unusually cold this year, especially for Brazil), the coffee is flowing, and the interventions start getting pointed. Sometimes even loud. In the hallways, leaders, negotiators, diplomats, and civil society huddle to strategize and support one another in a battle whose stakes are, in many cases, survival. These are the moments you realize international climate diplomacy is equal parts politics, persistence, and people.

This is the COP rhythm: intense, purposeful, and powered by caffeine, urgency, and a belief that we must do better.

A Rare Day Off: Breathing in Belém

The annual COP meetings take place over about two weeks, and participants work six days straight, taking off Sunday. Amid the choreographed chaos of COP, on my one day off, I wanted to step into a different world and spent the day at Parque do Utinga, just outside Belém, wandering along leafy trails surrounded by the symphony of the Amazon Rainforest. And honestly, it was magical.

Amazonia, long a symbolic, hopeful location for this COP meeting, is stunningly beautiful. As I strolled through Parque do Utinga, monkeys were swinging overhead from tree to tree, butterflies the size of my hand drifted by like living confetti, and birds of every color imaginable were saying hello in, I assumed, Portuguese from the canopies or while wading in tall grass. As far as you can see, there is an endless array of plant life, vines, flowers, and towering trees so tall that they reminded me exactly what we’re fighting for inside those windowless negotiation rooms back at the conference center.

For a few hours, I wasn’t thinking about brackets or paragraphs or whether “mobilize” should be replaced with “channel.” I was thinking about the Amazon, about places like Miami and Palau, about our ocean, about the ecosystems and people whose lives depend on these negotiations landing in the right place.

Why I Keep Coming Back

The work is long, and the days are longer at these conferences. And yet, moments in Parque do Utinga and in the plenary when countries stand up for justice, equity, and survival in the only international climate forum we have on earth remind me why I do this and why I love doing it.

Communities like mine in South Florida don’t have the luxury of waiting for perfect politics. Neither do SIDS, LDCs, or anyone living on the frontlines of rising seas, intensifying storms, and unbearable heat. No matter the hours or the imperfections in the process, we have no choice but to continue fighting until we solve this ever-so complex global problem.

And so, it is. Aside from the travel, long hours, and nonstop challenges of trying to get nearly 200 nations to agree on how to fix and finance the solutions needed, I plan to keep showing up. Whether tracking paragraphs, translating jargon, endlessly negotiating, or pushing for real financial answers to protect those most vulnerable, and all the rest that happens in a blur at a COP. The work is worth it for places like Miami, small island states like Palau, and, most certainly, the “lungs of the Earth,” as the Amazon has been called, to thrive, let alone survive.

I’m Off to Belém, Brazil for COP30

I am off to the Amazon Delta — the gateway to the Amazon rainforest — to visit Belém, Brazil, for the United Nations’ Conference of the Parties (COP30) meetings today. I can already feel the humid air of the rainforest, hear its deep green pulse, envision the river’s sinew winding through the Amazon, hear the song of frogs, and see the hush of timber-giants overhead. This will be my first time in Brazil, but more than that, my first time in the Amazon region itself: a place of both immense life and immense risk. Unlike previous UN COP events I’ve attended, I step into Belém not just as a delegate but as a witness, to the Amazon forest, yes, but also to the immense potential that forests, wetlands, oceans, and coastal communities around the world hold in this fight to fix our climate.

My time in Belem will be working as a lawyer and designated delegate for the Republic of Palau, a small island nation standing at the front lines of the climate crisis. For Palau, as is the reality here in South Florida, rising seas are not a future projection; they are already reshaping lives. As I work to help them in Belém, I plan to carry with me the voices of communities whose reefs are salt-etched, whose coastline is eaten by tides, and whose children rightfully ask what their future holds. When we talk about climate change, the headlines often center on vast continents or major pollution emitters like America’s oil companies, but for Palau and other small island states, the story is one of urgency, justice, and survival.

Palau, a pristine archipelago of approximately 340 islands scattered across the western Pacific Ocean, is a nation of breathtaking beauty known for its vibrant coral reefs, turquoise lagoons, and deep cultural ties to the ocean, but also of extraordinary vulnerability. Science tells us that sea levels around Palau are rising at nearly twice the global average, threatening low-lying coastal villages and vital infrastructure.

Ocean warming has already disrupted the island’s delicate balance of marine biodiversity, home to more than 1,300 species of fish and 700 species of coral, while intensifying storms and shifting rainfall patterns place further strain on freshwater supplies and agriculture. For Palau, climate change is not abstract science; it is a lived reality, measured in saltwater intrusion, eroding shorelines, and the fading colors of once-flourishing coral gardens.

“The failure to limit global heating to 1.5 °C is a moral failure and deadly negligence. Every fraction of a degree means more hunger, displacement, and loss – especially for those least responsible.”
Antonia Guterres, UN Secretary General

COP30 Goals & Opportunities

Dedicated readers might recall my post over this past summer, Delay, Denial & Disturbing Developments in Bonn, following the three weeks I spent in Germany as a delegate for another Small Island Developing State, in that case, the Federated States of Micronesia (FSM). That annual meeting of the Subsidiary Bodies of the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change serves to advance the nuts-and-bolts details of the issues that the UN and the world’s nations are trying to address during the COP events, such as those happening this week in Brazil.

In that post, I outlined a variety of concerns that I witnessed in Bonn to the world making substantive progress on addressing our climate crisis, including:

1) The United States was NOWHERE to be found,

2) Wealthy, oil-rich nations repeatedly blocked progress,

3) There was little consensus on an agenda with over 50 topics and, perhaps most disturbing to me,

4) There were obvious attempts by the world’s oil- and gas-producing nations to sideline scientific facts and findings about the damage fossil fuels are having on our planet.

Will these same impediments to progress still be present in Brazil? Brazil’s President, Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva, has said COP30 should be the “COP of Truth” and that “now is the time to take seriously the warnings of science.” I could not agree more, and will be fascinated to witness whether the world decides to take a step towards solutions or allows wealthy oil-rich nations and the fossil fuel-producing polluters to limit our progress in the Amazon.

As we begin our work this week, I am going to hope that progress is made and, with this in mind, offer a few key issues that I believe will dominate COP30:

1. Emissions & Mitigation

Over the summer, I also authored a post about why keeping temperatures within 1.5 degrees above pre-industrial levels is critical to our planet and each other. The target of limiting warming to 1.5°C remains central to any progress in fixing our climate, so reducing fossil fuel dependence, accelerating renewable energy deployment, and closing the gap between what the nations of the world pledge and the actual progress they are making are critical to our success in Belém.

2. Adaptation & Resilience

For Palau and many others, the question is: how do we adapt to the damage fossil fuel use over the last 100 or so years has caused? That means resilient infrastructure, coastal protection, mangrove restoration, and improved early warning systems. Adaptation cannot be an afterthought.

3. Nature-based Solutions & The Amazon

Having this conference in Belém, on the edge of the Amazon, is symbolic and vital. The Amazon is one of the planet’s lungs, a biodiversity powerhouse, a carbon sink. Protecting it, funding that protection, and guarding against tipping points are each crucial. The question is, will being in one of the world’s most important environmental regions be “motivational” to everyone in attendance?

4. Climate Finance, Transparency, & Implementation

It’s one thing to make big statements in a press conference, but another to deliver real results. Past COPs have set ambitious goals, but follow-through often lags. At COP30, there’s pressure to close the ambition–delivery gap. Ensuring that money flows to where it is most needed (especially to vulnerable states), that commitments are truly transparent, and that mechanisms exist for monitoring and accountability are vital to solving what’s truly a worldwide problem.

5. Equity, Inclusion, & Climate Justice

Climate change is not just a scientific or economic challenge; it’s a justice issue. Ensuring that small island states like Palau, frontline communities (including South Florida), and Indigenous peoples (including those in the Amazon region) have a seat and equal voice at the negotiation table and real influence is critical to success. Vulnerable nations need not only promises but predictable, reliable finance and mechanisms for the loss and damage they are suffering.

6. China “Versus” the United States

Another critical component of COP30, in my view, is that the United States, the world’s largest producer of crude oil and the second-largest emitter of carbon, has announced it will not send a delegation to Brazil. China, the world’s largest producer of coal and number one emitter of fossil fuel pollution will, however, be here and engaged.

I am increasingly concerned that America’s politicalization of our climate crisis has created staggering economic opportunities for other nations in important (and lucrative) fast-growing markets such as sustainable energy and electric vehicle manufacturing. For countless business and environmental reasons, it’s important that the U.S. finds a way to set politics and pandering to fossil fuel interests aside before other nations create dominant market positions and reap the riches of the global transition to a sustainable energy-oriented economy that is already underway.

Looking Ahead

As I leave for Brazil, my heart is full of hope while my mind is focused on reality. For the Amazon and world beyond, this conference is more than a story about forestry; it’s about planetary health. For Palau, my work is more than diplomacy; it’s about survival. In Belém, I hope to walk among trees that have stood for centuries, reflect on the voices of islanders who may stand for only decades more if we fail, and witness a conference that bridges hope with action. As always, I will do my best to provide you with an honest account of what was achieved, what fell short, and what comes next.

Allow me to end this post by extending my heartfelt thanks to those folks who have made this possible. Thank you to Dr. Jessica Owley and Val Fajardo (Environmental Law Fellow) at the University of Miami School of Law, whose mentorship and guidance have long supported my path in climate law and international environmental governance. And, thank you to the incredible team representing the Republic of Palau, including Joe Aitaro and Palau’s President Surangel Whipps Jr., for allowing me the honor of representing you and the people of Palau in Belém.

Youth vs. Trump: Our Day in Court for the Climate

Today is a day I will never forget. Alongside 21 of my friends and fellow plaintiffs from all across these United States of America, I will walk into a federal courtroom in Missoula, Montana, to participate in a historic hearing in our case, Lighthiser v. Trump. You see, this will be the very first time in the history of our country that a federal court and judge will hear live testimony in a youth-led constitutional climate lawsuit. 

For many years, young Americans like me have spoken out about the climate crisis in classrooms, at rallies small and large, in city halls, and even on the global stage about our concerns related to our warming world.

But today, September 16th, 2025, is dramatically different.

Today, we are standing in court to demand that the U.S. Constitution protect our most basic rights to life, liberty, and security.

On his first day back in office, President Trump signed a series of Executive Orders that declared a fabricated, fake “National Energy Emergency” and directed the federal government to: 

• Unleash more oil, gas, and coal on public lands;

• Block clean energy programs and infrastructure; and 

• Suppress climate science and the public’s access to critical data. 

Those Executive Orders are already being implemented – keeping coal plants open, shutting down renewable energy projects, and cutting off the science and tools we rely on to understand and prepare for the impacts of climate change. 

Our case argues that these orders are unconstitutional because they violate our rights under the Fifth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution. The government cannot knowingly endanger young people’s lives and futures by expanding fossil fuels, blocking solutions, and silencing science. Over the next two days, the judge in our case will hear arguments on two major motions: 

1. Our motion for a preliminary injunction, which asks the court to block President Trump’s Executive Orders before they cause further and irreparable harm. 

2. The government’s motions to dismiss our case, which have been supported by federal agencies, 19 states, and Guam, each sympathetic to the President’s desire to embrace fossil fuel pollution rather than the health of our citizens and environment, and who have joined the case in an attempt to stop us. 

Our legal team will present undeniable climate science along with the testimony from my fellow youth plaintiffs that will vividly explain how the President’s Executive Orders put us in danger. Testimony will come from a Nobel Prize-winning scientist, a Stanford energy expert, a renowned energy economist, an eminent pediatrician, a distinguished renewable energy leader, and several of us youth plaintiffs.

Our government, the defendants, has chosen not to present any witnesses. Not a single one.

To be clear, our case is not just about protecting the environment; it’s about protecting our democracy. Presidents are not supposed to be above the law. We do not have kings rule the United States. And even if there were a real “emergency,” Presidents are not supposed to trample the Constitution, override Congress, or sacrifice our lives for political purposes.

As someone who has spent most of my young life fighting for climate action in Florida, from the rising seas that flood our streets to the ever-increasing extreme heat that bakes our souls and the monster storms that batter our coasts, I know firsthand how high the stakes are this week. These short-sighted Executive Orders don’t just threaten some distant, far-away future; they make our lives and democracy more dangerous right now.  

And while I never, ever imagined that at the age of 26 I’d be involved in my third lawsuit against our government, much less feel the need to sue the President, I also never imagined that I would watch our government knowingly work to unleash fossil fuel pollution while simultaneously silencing science and scientists and eliminating the sustainable energy solutions we so desperately need and, frankly, deserve. Simply stated, I’m not suing because I want to, but because I must. 

Like I said, the stakes here are extraordinarily high—life and death high. If we win, the court will dismiss the President’s unconstitutional orders, protecting not only the 22 of us who are suing the President but tens of millions of others across the United States while also sending our country a clear message: the U.S. Constitution protects young people’s right to a safe climate future. 

Of course, I can’t predict the outcome of our case, but I do know that this week’s hearing proves that our judicial system continues to perform an essential function as a check on abusive power in America and that young people play a truly vital role in defending our democracy and its Constitution.

Here’s to hoping that our democracy wins this historic case.

1 2 3 4 5 76