If you would have asked me four years ago how I envision my life by 2050 I would have said: retired, most likely on a beach in Portugal, with my partner and a glass of vinho verde. Except that in the meantime I've become a mother and now, when I think about 2050, I imagine my little boy in his 30s.
When I got pregnant I was super excited to have the opportunity to experience being a mom. I was curious about how it would transform me and couldn't wait to read all sorts of books about the world to tell them further. I also felt that I had partly lost my curiosity about my surroundings.
It hasn't been an easy year either: after finding out I was pregnant came the pandemic, I discovered how the lack of a work contract feels like when you're calculating your maternity pay and how fragile the social system actually is for cultural workers. And after I gave birth a war at our borders started. Plus, I was reading more and more about the climate crisis - about how the last seven years have been the hottest on record.
About how researchers have found microplastics in breast milk or in the heart tissue. Because 40% of the plastic produced is for single-use: bags, packaging and cutlery that we use once and then throw away. About how since the 1970s we've lost 69% of global biodiversity.
This stuff scares me.
Against this backdrop of thoughts and fears for the future, Bucharest had become desolate. The increasingly hot summers, the green spaces in which I was unable to find refuge. The only family weekend activities were walking up and down Calea Victoriei, complaining about paying almost 20 lei for a coffee and thinking that, well, that's life.
So, we rekindled an earlier thought of moving to Brasov.
I had friends here and knew how beautiful the city is. Plus everyone has awesome winter jackets, how cool is that? But the idea of moving to the provinces - sorry, I know only a person from Bucharest could have said that - terrified me.
On the other hand, I didn't really have anything holding me back in Bucharest. Professionally, I felt that I had been part of enough projects in the creative area and that I had failed enough to be labeled an "experienced person". At the base, I'm a cultural manager and communications person and I felt disconnected from my colleagues. I thought that the world was literally on fire and we were using up our energy organizing festivals or film premieres. I wanted to do something important, that really responded to a pressing need in society.
I went through all the thoughts: I'm going to go to the Forestry Faculty, become a ranger and protect the forests! I'm going to study botany and become the best environmental educator for children. I will join activist organizations and overcome my fear of protests and be a leader in a new climate movement!
Greta Thunberg will add me on Instagram and maybe we'll even become friends.
Of course at some point I was going a bit crazy and luckily, I realized that I had almost everything I needed to start an impactful project with the climate theme. All I was missing was a community that needed me, and me needing it as well.
Luckily I found it in Brasov.
In September 2022, after two trucks and five full cars, I spent the first night in Brasov. I was worried we wouldn't make any friends, that we'd miss the bustle of Bucharest or of the new places that opened every weekend.
What did I find here?
First of all, an incredible community of people who welcomed me with open arms and an eagerness to do projects together. I experienced top notch positive discrimination, people here knew about the projects I had been involved in and were super keen to think about local initiatives.
I've discovered an absolutely wonderful women squad where we practice clothing swaps, discuss local politics and recommend books, Second Hands and podcasts.
I understood what the winter cold meant. Incidentally, a taxi driver told me that I can't consider myself a person from Brasov until I get through 3 winters. This is my third, so I'm almost there. And we also got cool winter jackets.
Perhaps the most interesting: I was shocked by the different approach to human relations. In Bucharest it's quite easy to avoid conflicts. Once you don't get along with a team, it's relatively easy to change the group.
In Brasov, people are the same and even if a collaborator has let you down or a friend has bad-mouthed you, the chances of you bumping into each other and even working together again are very high. Therefore people are also more direct and more willing to open difficult topics and work through them. I love that grately and I feel like I've never experienced it before.
So here I was going to fight the future and with one of the most important issues of my generation: climate change.
I know we all know how severe the situation is. I also know that three quarters of children under 14 are interested in environmental issues. What I feel we don't know yet is how to tackle the subject because it is complex and includes many dimensions: plastic pollution, food waste, urban transportation, biodiversity. And some of the things we talk about the most are also the least relevant for the long-term impact: ditch plastic straws, recycle plastic bottles, buy green labeled products.
Plus, it also seems like a pretty depressing topic that we avoid at family dinners. But if we don't have conversations about it, how do we convey to our community that it's an important topic? And if we don't bring it up to authorities and companies, how will they decide to put it on the public agenda?
For me, one of the most enjoyable ways to open a conversation is watching a movie. An artistic experience, especially a collective one, opens the mind, stimulates empathy, develops critical thinking and builds bridges for communication. You sure have an opinion about what you've just watched - whether you thought it was weird, you were drawn in by one of the characters or you were thought-provoking by the ending.
That's how we started CULMEA, a project that brings award-winning films from the major film festivals in the field, to children and youngsters. We select short films and feature films that tackle themes such as environmental activism, the impact of fast fashion, the risks and responsibilities of adventuring in nature, the fragile balance in ecosystems and the beauty of the world around us. And then we talk to each other and also to experts, some of whom then support young people to get involved. That's how we ended up with guided hikes on Tâmpa, night tours to discover bats or organizing a community second-hand clothes fair. Once I moved to Brasov we applied for funds at local and national level and organized the first edition of the festival in September 2023. This year we also organized a monthly film archive. And this week, from Wednesday to Sunday, the second edition of the festival takes place.
I am extremely proud of myself and the team that joined me in this project. My dream of building a foundation of a community and getting involved in an important project has come true. The audience is small but curious and grateful. I feel like I'm a phone call away from a projector, some chairs or a word of encouragement. Which for a freelancer in the cultural area is a very reassuring feeling.
On the other hand, I'm missing a few things: multifunctional spaces, smartly designed, that accommodate interdisciplinary projects. Experience at the institutional level on funding for cultural projects and, in general, a city-wide vision on culture and the development directions. Local companies to sponsor such a project.
It's hard to put in figures the impact. But just as we should not underestimate the power of children and young people to make a positive impact on society, I feel like we should not underestimate the effect of a film festival and environmental education in developing a real and strong community built around climate changes.
And if you ask me, it's hard for me to imagine what the world will look like in 2050 anymore. I hope to still be here and to have contributed to a better world, one that I believe in. A world that you can contribute to, in the way you can.
