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This year's 49th Annual Natural Hazards Workshop Workshop focused on the theme of The Stories We Tell: Creative Strategies for Understanding and Communicating Disaster Risk.

The following Director’s Corner offers a lightly edited summary of the closing and call to action that I shared during the final plenary. To write this, I attended some portion of every session and then synthesized key ideas in these closing remarks. It has become a tradition to share this print version of the speech with the broader Natural Hazards Center audience.

Thank you for taking the time to read these words, and, importantly, to listen to the words of those around you.

Please take care of yourself and others.

Lori Peek, Director
Natural Hazards Center

Closing Comments

Did you know that in some cultures, the badger is considered one of the most powerful guardians in the universe?

Badgers are fierce and tenacious, and they can be counted on in the most difficult of situations to display boldness and perseverance. I sometimes feel like I’m looking out at a room full of beautiful, powerful disaster badgers.

In his beloved book, Crow and Weasel, environmental author and essayist Barry Lopez tells the tale of these two animals and of the creatures they meet during a long voyage through the wilderness. He writes the following of the crow and weasel and their encounter with a wise badger:

“I would ask you to remember only this one thing,” said Badger. “The stories people tell have a way of taking care of them. If stories come to you, care for them. And learn to give them away when they are needed. Sometimes, a person needs a story more than food to stay alive. This is why we put these stories in each other’s memory.”

This theme of stories helping us to survive was also woven throughout this year’s Workshop.

Our keynote speaker James Rattling-Leaf emphasized that the environmental and social changes affecting our communities are so profound—so disruptive—that stories are the key to helping people unlock an understanding of these changes and get prepared for them.

Stories are also important because they are what give us context. They give context to and humanize the data that researchers in our community collect. They give context to the information that practitioners are working so hard to share with people and communities.

As Erica Ledesma of the Coalición Fortaleza said, “The importance of stories is they propel us to take action.”

Stories matter. And research has shown that it is important that we—as people who hold expertise in this field—tell our own stories, when appropriate, to help connect with the different audiences we serve.

But I think an even more important lesson of this year’s Workshop centered on the importance of listening to other people’s stories.

Danielle McNutt, with the City of Boulder Fire-Rescue, drove this point home when she shared that “Whenever we do a mitigation assessment, we don’t begin by spewing facts. We start with a simple question. ‘Why did you have us come here today?’ When we begin in that way,” she said, “we learn what people care about and what their values are. Then we can begin to connect.”

This form of active listening is the very foundation of communication.

“It’s how we can come to see what’s actually at risk,” Kris Ludwig of the White House Office of Science and Technology Policy observed, “and also figure out what investments are needed to save what people truly need and value.”

By putting both our boots and our ears to the ground in diverse communities, we can learn about what people need and what they know. It is how we can ensure that we are using culturally appropriate terminology and locally relevant and respectful language.

As Amelia Hertzberg of the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency said, “This is how people feel validated and heard. It is also how trust is built.”

Trust is crucial. As Colorado State Representative Elizabeth Velasco shared “If you don’t have the trust of the community, they are not going to listen to you and they are definitely not going to do what you tell them to do.”

Stephen Thomas of the University of Maryland picked up on this theme when he implored us to never forget that “to build trust, you must be trustworthy.”

Being trustworthy means that we follow through on our commitments. It also entails treating people—all people, regardless of their economic status or worldview or political affiliation—with dignity and respect.

Being trustworthy also requires slowing down, taking time to be fully present with others, and recognizing and honoring the fact that people should only be asked to share their stories when they are ready and with people whom they have confidence in.

As Lori Moore-Merrell of the U.S. Fire Administration so vividly described when speaking of the deadly Lahaina Fire, “There are things that firefighters and other first responders in our community have seen that can never, ever be unseen.”

What means in practice is that when firefighters need additional support, they must be able to talk to other firefighters or people with a deep understanding of the dire conditions under which they too often work.

Paying attention to people’s emotional status, as well as their emotions, is the right thing to do. As we heard during yesterday’s TEMPO plenary session, emotions drive how we process and internalize risk. Emotions also can determine whether we become complacent or act in the face of grave—even existential—danger.

Using creative strategies to communicate risk—whether it be through music, graphic art, or storytelling—can spark the type of collective action and systemic change that we need if we are going to make progress on turning the tide of rising disaster losses.

Furthermore, as Joshua McDuffie of Vanderbilt University and the Bill Anderson Fund stated, this is also how we as a community can continue our progression from isolated nodes to a strong, interconnected network.

We are the hazards and disaster community, and we are on the frontlines of this urgent battle against time.

As we move forward, let’s write a new story. A story where change doesn’t come mostly on the back of tragedy, but instead where change is driven from the bottom up and through investments in human-centered mitigation and adaptation activities that keep hazards from turning into disasters.

To write this story, we are going to need to be fierce, tenacious, persistent, and bold—like the badger. We are also going to need to treat other people’s stories with great reverence.

As you go forth with the vital work that you do, please remember to take care of yourself and others.

With that, I declare your 49th Annual Natural Hazards Workshop adjourned.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

Please visit the Director’s Corner Index to read other contributions in this series.