The beauty and the burden: Indigenous realities at COP30
When I think back on COP30, one of the first things that stands out is how often I saw Indigenous words, concepts and teachings being used in meeting titles, in discussion themes and even in the branding of events. And yet, when we walked into those rooms, the people leading the conversations were rarely Indigenous and our people were not centred in the theory, the research or the solutions being presented.
It’s a strange feeling to hear words that come from our cultures used so freely, while our communities are still fighting to have a seat at the table.
I was also struck by how much of COP30 was discussed from a place of privilege. Many conversations centred on how to maintain certain lifestyles or comforts while “transitioning” to climate solutions. But that’s not the reality for so many Indigenous and rural communities, not here and not anywhere in the world.
People were talking about “adapting” but not everyone’s starting from the same place. Many Indigenous communities are already living the impacts of climate change. They don’t have the luxury of theoretical conversations. They’re facing water insecurity, food insecurity, forced relocation, flooding, wildfires and loss of land right now.
And yet… despite all of that, despite the hard truths, there was also so much beauty.
The KAIROS COP30 Delegation built real relationships with Indigenous peoples from every corner of the world. We learned from them, laughed with them and stood in solidarity with them. We shared stories that were deeply familiar despite living thousands of miles apart.
We participated in a water ceremony led by Amazonian tribal women, which was powerful, grounding and emotional. It reminded me that water is not just a resource; she is a relative. A teacher. A life-giver. And protecting her is a responsibility that connects all Indigenous Nations.
What surprised me most was how similar our struggles are whether in Canada, Brazil, the Pacific or Africa.
Everywhere, Indigenous communities are facing:
- Lack of access to clean water
- Communities having to travel hours just to collect safe water
- Water that can’t be fished in anymore
- Land that’s being taken, poisoned or extracted from
- Governments and corporations ignoring Indigenous rights
- It broke my heart and strengthened my resolve at the same time.
We are living the same collective story — a story of protecting land, protecting water and fighting for the right to live in relationship with Mother Earth, not just taking from her.
It became clear that what we are facing in Ontario, the water crises, the land disruption, the pressure on our traditional ways of life is not just a local issue. This is a global Indigenous experience. And it reminds us that Indigenous rights and climate justice are inseparable. You cannot protect the planet while sidelining the people who have protected it since time immemorial.
After leaving COP30, I am carrying a renewed sense of responsibility but also a renewed sense of kinship. I met Indigenous people from every corner of the world who are fighting with courage, love and vision. I saw how powerful we are when we speak together not from the margins, but from the centre.
I return home committed to continuing this work, to lifting our stories and to making sure that the next time global leaders gather to talk about climate and justice, Indigenous voices aren’t just referenced — they’re leading.
I carry home from COP30 the following: Indigenous peoples are not just stakeholders. We are rights holders, land protectors, water protectors and knowledge keepers. We need to be at the centre of climate solutions — not just referenced, not just quoted, not just used as decoration in meeting titles.
And even though the systems aren’t there yet, our global Indigenous solidarity is strong. The relationships we built, the ceremonies we shared, the teachings exchanged, that is where real climate solutions begin.
By Brandi Bilodeau, KAIROS Indigenous Rights Coordinator
