Growing up in a packed slum in Delhi, the climate catastrophe was personally relevant for me rather than something far-off or academic. Daily living presented difficulties for someone with dyslexia, dyspraxia, and a stutter. But for most, climate change added an additional layer of difficulty that remained invisible.

Particularly in the winter, Delhi’s air pollution made breathing a miserable task. The thick, choking fog would irritate my asthma and heighten my anxiety, therefore aggravating my stutter. Rising fiercer each summer, the heat waves meant intolerable days spent in poorly ventilated dwellings without escape. Relentless noise pollution made concentration nearly impossible. Watching my mother, who was always sick, get worse with every heat wave was the toughest thing, though. I was her caregiver and felt overwhelmed and powerless. There was no communication about these challenges or about what caring looks like when the earth itself becomes hostile.

It dawned on me in these lonely times that I was not alone. Millions like me—disabled, neurodivergent, chronically sick, caregivers—were silently experiencing the effects of climate change, but our voices were missing from climate talks. Though our community makes up between 17% and 22% of the world’s population, we are still mainly invisible in conversations on climate justice.

My starting point for the “Green Disability” campaign came from this invisibility. The basic concept is straightforward but strong: sustainability is closely related to accessibility. Disability justice is crucial for climate justice to be reached. With this project, I hope to better grasp our particular difficulties by listening to and learning from the community, strengthening our collective voice.

Over several months, I anonymously interviewed people from our neighborhood using Zoom, Google Meet, and in-person meetings. Their stories reflected mine: vulnerability sharpened by environmental change.

Participants reported how heat waves aggravated their ailments; many were left imprisoned within inaccessible cooling centers. Increased respiratory disorders brought on by air pollution caused worry for people depending on respiratory aids. Maintaining cleanliness and managing medication were insurmountable jobs for many chronically sick people during water scarcity. Still, these challenges hardly ever get mentioned in mainstream environmental debate.

Accessibility is not considered in our infrastructure or emergency actions. Many related tales of inaccessible evacuation routes, shelters unable to fit mobility aids, and emergency data lacking in easily available formats. This systematic indifference not only threatens lives, it marginalizes them.

Conversations also revealed economic fragility. Often leading to employment loss, climate disruptions disproportionately affect disabled people, aggravating poverty and reducing resilience. Rising healthcare expenses during natural disasters still add yet another barrier by taxing already limited resources.

With worry, loneliness, and stress deepening from erratic climate events, mental health became a major issue. Social networks are essential for many of us, yet they often fall apart during severe storms, depriving people of necessary support.

These discussions have helped clarify how urgently inclusive climate action is needed. Our community is not only affected by climate change; we must actively create solutions. Inclusive policies guaranteeing our representation, easily available catastrophe preparedness, focused health interventions, strong economic assistance, and improved mental health care are not optional.

Green Disability is a call to action, not just a project. It’s about realizing everyone counts toward actual sustainability. It is about creating resilience that leaves no one behind. Challenges and insights on my own path have strengthened my conviction that we cannot solve climate justice without first giving disability justice a top priority.

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Written by Puneet Singhal