大象传媒

When Winter Storm Uri hit Texas in February 2021, bringing single-digit temperatures and sheets of snow to Dallas, Susana Edith and a group of volunteers distributed lentil soup and winter gear to unhoused people in their community. 

鈥淎 lot of us had a sense of urgency and were called to action at that moment,鈥� Edith said. 鈥淲e were out in the streets while the storm was happening.鈥�

Edith is the founder of , a community-based collective that coordinated with other mutual aid groups in North Texas to bring food, warm clothing, sleeping bags, and tent warmers to their unhoused neighbors; they even raised cash donations to pay for hotel rooms for those who could not access shelters.

Like across the state, Edith鈥檚 own household was without power and heat. The frigid temperatures, snow, and ice caused a catastrophic failure of the state鈥檚 power grid; within days, some lost access to safe drinking water. The disruptions low-income communities and communities of color, and the consequences were deadly. The state鈥檚 official death toll reached 246, but a found more than three times as many people likely died from the storm.

Edith said she and her neighbors felt abandoned by the local government.

鈥淭here鈥檚 no other means of survival for us,鈥� Edith said. 鈥淚f we鈥檙e not looking out for each other and helping each other, giving each other a hand, no one else is gonna do it.鈥�

Across the country, people are increasingly relying on mutual aid鈥攃ooperative assistance that adherents describe as 鈥溾�濃�攖o get through climate-related disasters. 

The practice is nothing new. Communities of color and other marginalized groups have when government services fell short. But now, many frontline communities are taking up the practice as a way to become more resilient in the face of increasingly extreme weather.

Communities where neighbors check in with each other and have someone to call during a crisis are better prepared to face climate emergencies, according to a Tufts University published in September. Researchers conducted interviews in two Boston neighborhoods that are at risk for flooding and heat waves over the course of six months; they found that the more connected people were with neighbors, church communities, and colleagues, the more likely they were to know about resources and services offered during extreme weather.

鈥淏eing socially isolated while trying to deal with an extreme weather event can be deadly, particularly for those who are more susceptible to dying from extreme weather,鈥� said Rev. Vernon Walker, a co-author of the study and program director of Communities Responding to Extreme Weather (CREW), which co-published the report. 

He referenced a study by sociologist Eric Klinenberg on the that killed 739 people over five days; Klinenberg found that social isolation contributed to the death toll.

鈥淔or [CREW], it makes sense to help build social infrastructure in a community [to] increase the likelihood of people surviving during these extreme weather events,鈥� Walker said. During a heat wave, that social infrastructure might look like neighbors calling and checking in on the most vulnerable in their communities鈥攐ften the elderly or disabled鈥攁nd asking if they need a ride to a cooling center, he said.

To that end, CREW hosts community workshops on topics like preparing for extreme heat, where volunteers hand out cooling kits with water and cooling patches. But most importantly, it鈥檚 a way to bring people together, Vernon said. 

鈥淲hat we mean by social connectedness is allowing people to get to know each other [who] might not have known each other, and also fostering that spirit of collaboration,鈥� Walker said. 鈥淪o when the storms come, and the heat waves happen, and the rain descends, people are looking out for each other.鈥�

Walker鈥檚 example is taking on growing urgency. This past summer, Boston experienced a that dragged on for days.

For Matt Peterson, a Queens-based documentary filmmaker, Superstorm Sandy revealed the importance of community in getting through a disaster.

After Sandy struck the city and flooded much of the coastline, Peterson volunteered with Occupy Sandy, delivering supplies to hard-hit neighborhoods. 鈥淵ou expect all these infrastructural logistics to just work in America, in New York City, and then they shut down. They don鈥檛 work,鈥� Peterson said. 鈥淚t was a wake-up call.鈥�

Two years later, he and a dozen friends founded Woodbine, an 鈥渆xperimental hub for developing the practices, skills, and tools needed to build autonomy.鈥� They organize a farm share, offer yoga classes, screen films, and host lectures on topics including universal health care and climate disinformation.

When the pandemic struck, Woodbine鈥攁nd the surrounding working-class neighborhood of Ridgewood鈥攎obilized. Volunteers distributed food at the center five days a week, made cloth masks, and created flyers in English and Spanish with COVID-related resources and information. 

鈥淲e were able to meet hundreds or thousands of people in the neighborhood [who] circulated through our space and came to our activities and events,鈥� Peterson said. 鈥淏ut it wasn鈥檛 until COVID that there was really an opportunity to fully mobilize that network of all these people, and to see how it could be applied in a very local, neighborhood way.鈥�

The center鈥檚 food pantry is now open twice a week. On Sundays, Peterson and his co-volunteers organize a donation-only dinner open to anyone in the neighborhood. 

鈥淎 resilient neighborhood would have to be a neighborhood that knows each other, that knows who the people are, what their issues are, how to get in touch, how to communicate,鈥� Peterson said. The neighborhood network is in a 鈥渂etter position鈥� if another disaster hits, he said. 

Mutual aid is predicated on the understanding that everyone in a community has something to contribute and may need help at some point. 鈥淲e鈥檙e not some special, different tier of people that just providing a service,鈥� Peterson said. 鈥淲e also are benefiting from all the resources and energies and skills and networks that other people [bring].鈥� 

Edith of Lucha Dallas is a single mother of two boys and said she became involved with mutual aid to reciprocate the help she received when she left an abusive relationship. She said members of her community opened their homes to her, provided financial assistance, and offered emotional support. 

鈥淔or me, it was just a way to be able to pay back what the community was providing me at the time,鈥� she said. 鈥淢y mom has always taught me that community is really important and to pay forward whatever someone is able to provide you.鈥�

This article originally appeared in and , an editorially independent, nonprofit news service covering climate change. Follow .