Climate Action and Just Futures Collab with Tishiko King

What does climate change actually look like when it’s happening to your home in real time?

In this episode of Community Conversations from Clothing The Gaps, Sarah Sherry sits down with proud Kulkalgal woman, marine biologist and climate justice advocate Tishiko King for a powerful conversation about sea country, self-determination, climate justice and the future of Torres Strait Island communities.

Tish shares what it feels like to grow up on Masig Island, why climate change is already reshaping life in the Torres Strait, and the emotional reality of fighting to protect culture, stories and country for future generations.

The conversation also explores:

• Rising sea levels and climate impacts in the Torres Strait
• Why First Nations-led climate solutions matter
• Decolonising wealth and philanthropy
• The work behind Just Futures Collab
• Climate adaptation, seawalls and justice
• Indigenous sovereignty and environmental protection
• Community-led giving and climate action

This is a deeply human conversation about responsibility, resilience and what climate justice really means when your homeland is on the frontline.

00:00 – “Picking up my ancestors’ bones like seashells”
 00:16 – Welcome to Community Conversations
 01:10 – Introducing Tishiko King
 02:32 – What Masig Island feels like
 06:24 – Life on a tiny Torres Strait island
 08:24 – Who keeps Tish grounded
 12:10 – The everyday reality of climate change in the Torres Strait
 15:07 – Climate impacts on culture, country and ancestors
 17:15 – Why climate justice is a First Nations issue
 19:38 – The emotional weight of climate advocacy
 22:00 – What self-determination actually looks like
 24:49 – The risk of losing culture and country
 26:19 – The story behind Just Futures Collab
 29:03 – The Torres Strait climate human rights case
 31:49 – Seawalls, adaptation and broken systems
 38:11 – Decolonising wealth and philanthropy
 41:35 – Funding Indigenous-led climate solutions
 43:24 – What’s next for Just Futures Collab
 46:04 – Everyday generosity and collective action
 47:42 – Why mainland Australians should care
 49:13 – Final reflections

Connect with Tish and support Just Futures Collab here: https://www.justfuturescollab.org.au/

Transcript

Speaker 0 – Tish (00:00.11)
“I've had the hard part of picking up my ancestors' bones like seashells on the beach. That shouldn't be the case. The extraction that has happened through our resources has happened from stolen land. It has become stolen wealth.”

Speaker 1 – Sarah (00:16.13)
“The big message that's screaming at me is First Nations-led decision making in seeing climate justice is critical.”

Hello and welcome to Community Conversations, the podcast from Clothing The Gaps.

At Clothing The Gaps, we often say that it's more than a tee, it's a conversation starter. And this podcast is where those conversations continue as we sit down with inspiring people from community to talk about justice, advocacy, and the stories of the movements that got us to where we are today, and those shaping the future.

My name is Sarah Sherry. I'm non-Indigenous and the co-founder of Clothing The Gaps.

Today we're recording on Wurundjeri and Bunurong Country, and I honour the Traditional Owners of these lands. I'm grateful for Elders past and present and honour their knowledge, lived experience, and resistance. This always was and always will be Aboriginal land.

Today I am really excited to be joined by Tishiko King.

Tish is a proud Kulkalgal woman from Masig in the Torres Strait. She's a marine biologist, a community builder, and a climate justice advocate. Her work sits at the intersection of culture, community, science, and philanthropy, bringing together deep knowledge of Sea Country with a commitment to fighting for First Nations-led climate solutions.

Tish is also the founder of the Just Futures Collab, which is the first Torres Strait Islander-led collaborative giving circle working to shift power and resources directly into the hands of communities on the front line of the climate crisis.

Coming from the Torres Strait, where climate change is already a big part of everyday reality, Tish brings a perspective that is grounded in lived experience and action. Her work challenges us to think differently about climate justice, self-determination, and how we advocate for and care for Country.

Tish, welcome to Community Conversations. How are you?

Speaker 0 (02:03.598)
Oh my gosh, it's so wonderful to be here. Hello, kapu balu, good morning. And what a wonderful way to sort of bring us into that space. Thank you for sharing that. It was a really wonderful reminder to myself about my love for Country and what we're all trying to do in order to protect culture and our communities.

Speaker 1 (02:32.566)
I've been really looking forward to this conversation for quite a while because you do wear so many hats and you have all of these different experiences, lived experiences, and knowledge across different areas. I'm really excited to unpack quite a few things with you today.

But first, I would love for you to kick us off by taking us to Masig for a moment, if you can, and tell us about your island home. When you close your eyes and think of Masig, what do you see? What do you feel? What do you hear?

Speaker 0 (03:00.536)
I was actually thinking that on my way this morning as we really feel the wind here on Naarm today.

But I want to ground us first by acknowledging where we are too, in my language.

Tish speaking in language

And so, in my language, it's really honouring that I too am a visitor here.

Today I'm wearing this beautiful pink saii, and I'm thinking of the frangipanis that, when you're walking down from the airport into the township, it's the first smell that really activates your senses.

My tiny island home, Masig, is in the shape of a teardrop. I kind of want to give everyone a visual aid. And my family always says that it's shaped as a teardrop because when you come to Masig, you get really sad on your way back to the mainland. And so I really feel that.

The island is part of the Kulkalgal Nation, which is a Central Island group, and we are low-lying coral atoll islands.

I think about your beautiful Pacific Islands that you probably would have seen on Instagram or through social platforms or in images, or maybe you've been there.

I love the Torres Strait Islands, and especially the Kulkalgal Nation, because it feels like one of the most beautiful parts of the world. The oceans are so transparent and blue, and the shades are all different because we're on those atolls.

Our islands are made of coral, and our churches are made of coral. The backdrop is coconut palms swaying in the wind. Right now, if that wind was down here, it would feel like the ancestors and spirits singing to us and grounding us.

You'll see piles of coconuts just on the side of the road, ready to pick up and crack open and eat, or ready to be replanted so future generations can drink from them.

Just walking through town, I'm at the square now and I think, which side do I swim on today? And it's always tide dependent.

It's a really beautiful, tranquil little space that I feel so grateful and privileged to continue to learn from and grow with.

And everyone feels like that about their Country and their island home.

Speaker 1 (06:24.728)
Tish, I feel like my heart rate just came down about 75% as I thought about walking with you through the streets of Masig, from the airport into the square.

And I have had the privilege and absolute pleasure and delight and joy of getting to walk those streets of Masig with you.

For everybody that's listening today, I really hope you enjoyed that journey of walking through Masig with Tish because it is such an incredibly beautiful space.

And Tish, you mentioned that Masig is really small and in the shape of a teardrop. When we say small, how many k's from top to bottom and across?

Speaker 0 (07:06.922)
It's a small village of about 200 people, give or take, depending on school holidays when kids are home from boarding school, or families are travelling for the season.

Right now it's monsoonal season up there, so there might be families still out on the mainland with other family.

But yeah, it's quite small. You can walk around the whole island in about an hour. And our widest point is our beautiful airport airstrip.

Sorry everyone, because Sarah, you have come to Masig, so I'm having this conversation like you know what it's like. But yes, apologies everyone tuning in.

Speaker 1 (08:02.19)
But it's not very big, I guess, is what you're telling me.

Speaker 0 (08:04.898)
No, not very big. The community is really gathered together. We only have a couple of streets.

And our houses are tucked within the palms. It is actually just such a dream.

Speaker 1 (08:24.758)
It really is. Yeah. And such an incredibly special space.

And Brunswick is a really long way from Masig. And Tish, as a daughter of Masig, who grounds you and inspires the work that you do every day here?

Speaker 0 (08:39.425)
What a really hard question.

I feel so grateful to be held here on Wurundjeri Woi Wurrung Country. I think about the Elders who have continued to inspire me in this space, and the Traditional Owners around this country that continue to guide me.

Not every day I get to talk to my family, so I'm always finding new ways to stay connected.

I'm not gonna lie, I love a FaceTime. I love a FaceTime out in public. People hate those people. I'm one of those people.

And so I've tried to be more conscious about connection. Being able to FaceTime family up on the islands — my Atha Ned, who's the community police officer, the pastor, the electrician — I've been calling him lately because every week he sends me a prayer.

The people of Zenadth Kes are not only seafaring people, but God-fearing people too. It's a big part of our colonial history, but also embedded into our practices today.

That faith and those lessons are really grounding because they remind me what my responsibility is — to be a good daughter to Masig and accountable to the people I'm supporting, representing, or amplifying.

I’ve got to shout out my mama Lola, Lola Gutchen, based out on Darnley Island, who continues to guide me in her own way.

And my mum — Mama V. God bless her cotton socks.

But I really want to extend that to the matriarchy and the role women have in our communities, and their staunch resistance and advocacy that has shaped community connection and caring for everyone.

That’s something really special.

And yes, my mum is always like, “Aren’t you cold yet?” because it’s so hot up there.

Speaker 1 (12:10.51)
One of the things that, when I think about Masig and think back to when I had the pleasure of being on Masig with you, is how there are not very many cars, very low-impact living.

And when I think about Masig, and many other islands and island nations, climate change being a huge part of everyday reality for people — what are you seeing on the ground that people on the mainland may not fully understand about the impacts of climate change on your island home?

Speaker 0 (12:45.464)
The climate impacts are being felt every day.

We're seeing natural weather events happen faster and stronger, more frequently and for longer periods of time, with devastating impacts not just on Country, but indirect impacts as well.

Sea levels rising are happening right now in the Torres Strait Islands. And this is nothing new.

We first saw this in the 1930s, where communities like Saibai and Boigu had been living with and adapting to this, and making informed decisions about what continuing culture looks like.

We saw that through journeys to the mainland and the creation of communities like Bamaga and Seisia.

Right now, geopolitical decisions are impacting the way resources move around the globe, and it's impacting everyone's everyday life.

You hear on the radio that farmers are struggling because fuel is expensive or unavailable. But families in the islands, especially in Masig, have only had access to fuel once a week for a very long time.

And only during a certain part of the day.

The prices people are paying are ridiculous — it's robbery. But communities like mine, and many rural and remote communities, have been living with these costs forever.

These are things Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities have been adapting to every day.

And now, when we see changes from environmental degradation, extraction, or sea level rise, I've had the hard part of picking up my ancestors' bones like seashells from the beach.

That shouldn't be the case.

Those impacts are changing our island and our Country.

And that's where I bring it back to — our environment holds stories and relationships. That's the challenge in trying to share with people just how interconnected everything is.

Speaker 1 (16:23.266)
When I think about climate change from an urbanised area, it's very easy to disconnect and think, “That's happening over there, not here.”

But everyday life on Masig is so connected to the environment. Culture, stories, migration patterns, tides, fish movements — climate change impacts all of that.

It’s impacting everyday life moments on islands like Masig, isn't it?

Speaker 0 (17:15.5)
Yeah. And I think that continues to fuel the gap and inequality.

That’s where the climate justice and climate action intersection comes from.

There are people feeling the impacts every day who contribute the least to emissions in this country.

I think about the stories we sat around the fire sharing on the beach outside Balayès, about Pani Pun — the lightning story.

The sky and Sea Country are connected.

And if we think about Western science now, our oceans and atmosphere are a coupled system that regulates our world.

So when we increase emissions into the atmosphere, there are repercussions for the people, cultures, and stories that live within our island homes and oceans.

Speaker 1 (19:12.366)
Especially when people living on the islands contribute the absolute least to the current climate crisis.

That’s really tough to reconcile with.

Speaker 0 (19:38.336)
It's really hard.

There isn’t one word or one emotion to describe it because there are so many layers to this crisis.

We continue to move with mana, spirit, and love in our hearts while carrying responsibility.

I think since 2020, I’ve cried from every day to every week — and that's still a lot.

I’m not the first person to have these conversations, and I won’t be the last.

That weight of responsibility was inherited at a really young age.

And it’s through solidarity with Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people, Pacific Islanders, Māori people, allies — standing shoulder to shoulder — that I’ve understood we have to keep doing this to ensure future generations have fairer and more just futures.

And honestly, it tears my heart up.

Speaker 1 (22:00.29)
The big message screaming at me is that self-determination and First Nations-led decision making in climate justice is critical.

What does that actually look like in practice?

Speaker 0 (22:19.458)
It looks different for many communities.

For me, self-determination means the power to make decisions that impact our lives today and tomorrow using the lessons of yesterday, and using our ancient knowledge, wisdom, and expertise.

It’s about having agency.

It’s about veto rights from extraction projects on land and sea.

It’s the power to practice culture and remain on homelands without being impacted by fossil fuel extraction.

Not just token consultation, but frameworks led by our law — L-O-R-E.

Because we've seen our knowledge dismissed as not expert enough.

And every time people think that only happened in the past — it’s still happening today.

I know I’m privileged to live here on the mainland and return home often.

But I’m fighting so hard to protect my Country because I want to return home and continue learning stories, language, and culture that communities are reviving and teaching to the next generation.

That’s what self-determination means to me.

Speaker 1 (24:49.632)
And I think about the risk of what gets lost if we don't get this right.

That risk is real.

And there’s so much worth fighting for — so you get to choose to go home, and there is a home to go to.

Speaker 0 (25:18.678)
Yeah. Absolutely.

Speaker 1 (25:19.65)
That there is enough island for the plane to land on.

That’s the reality.

Speaker 0 (25:35.756)
Yes.

And about a month ago, I was able to host the Honourable Dr Maina Talia, the Minister for Home Affairs, Environment and Climate Change for the Tuvaluan Government.

To genuinely hear and see someone witnessing their home being lost in real time — that has really fuelled my “why” and my responsibility to Masig, and continuing to honour that.

Speaker 1 (26:19.48)
Which I guess is where Just Futures Collab comes in. What has the next step of that journey looked like for you?

Can you tell us all about Just Futures Collab, Tish? What have you been working on for the last little bit, and what gap have you addressed here? There’s a big one.

Speaker 0 (26:35.182)
How long do we have?

Okay, so I think to share with everyone, Just Futures Collab is pooling resources to accelerate action on climate justice.

We're working together with everyday folks and like-minded partners to redirect resources in a way that alleviates some of the barriers we've traditionally seen in accessing funding.

As we continue to see this rise of right-wing politics and the issues they’re amplifying, we know there is a huge gap in resources for communities trying to speak up.

Within the fight for First Nations justice and climate justice in this country — and I’m not the only one doing this work — redirecting resources and decolonising wealth is one way to do it.

When we properly resource communities, we give power and agency back to communities to make decisions that work best for Country and culture.

We know there’s a lot of money being hoarded.

We know the people making decisions about where resources go are often the same people who have never been to community.

And we also know the legal structures around charities in this country create barriers to where funding can flow and who can access it.

So many layers.

Speaker 1 (28:22.422)
Because it's actually super complex.

Speaker 0 (28:26.424)
Talk about a polycrisis. That in itself is a polycrisis.

Speaker 1 (28:29.984)
Absolutely.

And when I think about island communities bearing the absolute brunt of climate impacts right now, while receiving the least funding to resource adaptation and self-determination, those maths stats do not line up for me.

Speaker 0 (28:56.152)
Do not line up.

People say that all the time.

Speaker 1 (28:58.316)
And I'm not great at maths, but I know that's not right.

Speaker 0 (29:03.886)
Me too.

But no, it is not right. And you've hit the nail on the head.

I want to give some context about how I got here to Just Futures Collab.

I had the extreme privilege and honour to serve Masig through a climate campaign led by Torres Strait Islander people called Our Islands Our Home, which Clothing The Gaps has also proudly supported.

One of the big pillars of that campaign was a litigation case led alongside our PBC partners in the Torres Strait and our incredible lawyers, ClientEarth, based in the UK.

The eight Torres Strait Islander claimants took their voices to the United Nations Human Rights Committee and accused the Australian Government of violating their human rights by not taking climate action in line with 1.5 degrees — “1.5 to stay alive” — a message led strongly by Pacific Island nations.

One of the outcomes was that the Australian Government was found to be violating our human rights.

Australia became the first developed nation to have to pay loss and damage.

And it set precedent for Indigenous people globally.

Speaker 0 (31:22.882)
When that announcement came in September 2022, we then saw, in the budget release in October, millions of dollars — maybe even billions — going into fracking in the Beetaloo Basin.

And as a response to the outcome from the United Nations Human Rights Committee, the Australian Government — which was different to the government where the original case had started — gave about one million dollars for a Climate Change Centre for Excellence.

Speaker 1 (31:31.736)
Again, the maths is not mathing.

Nor is the values-valuing of both of those things happening in the same budget at the same time, with one getting substantially more funding than the other.

Speaker 0 (31:49.386)
One destroying Country, and limited resources to adapt.

One of the solutions communities collectively decided on in the Torres Strait Islands — while it was a band-aid solution — was seawalls.

A lot of the work I had been supporting was advocating for increased infrastructure for seawalls.

And you had seen the seawall — or the lack of one — and the impacts of what was there on our island community.

In climate conferences like the UNFCCC — the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change — there are policies that can dictate what happens domestically and regionally.

One of the mechanisms that has been operationalised over the last few years is climate finance.

And to be fair, Australia has jumped back into contributing money to some of those Green Climate Funds.

Speaker 1 (33:25.836)
Yeah.

Speaker 0 (33:26.19)
And that is good because they understand their responsibility as a developed nation and fossil fuel superpower.

Speaker 1 (33:37.934)
Because correct me if I’m wrong — Australia, for a very long time, as a developed nation, wasn’t funding climate finance.

Speaker 0 (33:46.614)
No, it wasn’t.

And that changed when the current government came in and rejoined.

But while that’s positive, we still know there’s trillions of dollars worth of damage globally, and developed nations are putting in millions when billions are needed.

This goes back to the maths.

Speaker 1 (34:29.237)
The M’s, the B’s, and the T’s are not where they need to be.

Speaker 0 (34:33.342)
Exactly.

So once these climate finance mechanisms were operationalised, the next challenge became: who can actually access them?

If you are Indigenous, the only people currently able to access many of those resources are Indigenous people in developing nations.

So if you're Indigenous in a developed nation like Australia, you often can’t access those same resources internationally.

And while those funds absolutely should prioritise developing nations, there’s also this assumption that Indigenous people in wealthy countries are somehow okay.

Speaker 1 (35:22.894)
Being taken care of.

Speaker 0 (35:24.114)
Exactly.

But we know that’s not true.

There are people living below the poverty line. Our resources have been taken away from us. Our Country has been taken away from us. Our stories have been taken away from us.

And we’re still fighting for justice across all of those layers.

That’s why the numbers don’t add up.

You say there’s money over here in the books, but we need those resources to protect the very things that continue to be taken away from us.

It was really hard being a Torres Strait Islander, seeing all these incredible efforts internationally, and then coming back into our own nation and realising we still couldn’t access resources for adaptation methods like seawalls.

One of the barriers was cost.

COVID happened. The cost-of-living crisis happened. The Russia–Ukraine war impacted global supply chains.

So a seawall project that was originally meant to be 700 metres became only 100 metres.

And now there are indirect impacts from storm surges reshaping Country because there wasn’t enough protection built.

It’s really confronting.

Speaker 1 (37:08.63)
It’s massive, Tish.

And I think you share such a strong example of how economic decisions and climate impacts are always felt hardest by the communities already most vulnerable.

Which is why the work you’re doing in redirecting resources and making them accessible is so important.

I can really hear the urgency in what you’re saying — these things need to happen now.

And a huge part of your model is built around trust.

We talk a lot about decolonising philanthropy and what trust-based giving models can look like — funding without ridiculous administrative burdens.

Why is that so important to the work you’re funding?

Speaker 0 (38:11.256)
Ultimately, we need to give money back to the people.

And when I say “give,” I mean recognising that wealth in this country has been built through extraction from stolen land.

That extraction became stolen wealth.

So decolonising wealth is about shifting how we think about giving.

People sometimes hear “decolonising” and think it means taking something away from them.

But really, I mean applying a more social and relational lens to the way we give.

How can we bring Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander cultural ways of being and doing into these systems?

Trust comes through relationships.

So it became about asking: how do we do this together?

I understand people might feel risk around capital. But what is capital?

There’s social capital, cultural capital, community capital, human capital.

So how do we come together through shared values?

We know communities need resources directly, but many people aren’t there yet in terms of trust.

So what are the steps we can take together to get there?

And I want to say — we are not the only organisation doing this work.

There are incredible groups like Seed Mob, First Nations Futures, and many others already leading trust-based philanthropy grounded in cultural ways of doing things.

One of the big gaps I’ve seen in this critical decade is that while we know we need to scale up funding and advocacy, people are still learning how to shift power.

That’s why we still maintain some structure and process — so people can build confidence in Indigenous-led decision making.

Because communities know where resources need to go.

Communities know what’s happening on Country.

They know what’s happening in the Kimberley impacts the Torres Strait.

They know what’s happening in the Beetaloo Basin impacts communities all the way north through the Middle Arm project on Larrakia Country.

The fight for land rights and Land Back is not new.

And so much of what happens is still for the benefit of others — not our communities.

So this work is really about agency and self-determination.

Because when we fund cultural sovereignty, land, and environmental protection, there are huge ripple effects — jobs, health outcomes, stronger connection to Country.

Speaker 1 (42:21.986)
I feel like every dollar invested back into community is working fifteen thousand times harder, in every possible way, than dollars invested elsewhere.

Speaker 0 (42:32.63)
Right now, there’s already a really narrow window of funding that goes towards the environment in this country.

There’s an even smaller window for advocacy.

And then an even smaller portion of that goes to Indigenous people.

So when we say systems need to change — advocacy is how you do it.

And then the question becomes: how do we create Indigenous-led, Black-led, First Nations-led vehicles that use more culturally appropriate ways to alleviate those barriers and work together?

Ways that don’t remove people from community, but actually understand the needs of community — because every community is different.

Speaker 1 (43:18.526)
Tish, it makes me so excited, the work that you're doing.

Speaker 0 (43:22.251)
I’m really yelling at this microphone. I’m sorry.

Speaker 1 (43:24.942)
You can feel the commitment you have to seeing this grow.

So tell me, Tish — in the future of Just Futures Collab, what’s coming? What can we expect to see?

Speaker 0 (43:36.874)
I mean, we’re literally a small little coconut being planted into the ground.

And what we can hopefully see is that grounding work eventually creating fruit for our communities.

Since launching our website — and we haven’t done a lot publicly yet — we’ve been able to build a small community of regular givers.

After Easter, we launched Nourishing Grants of one thousand dollars directly into the geographical area of the Torres Strait Islands, where communities are bearing the brunt of climate impacts.

And while they may feel small, this is where trust starts.

And this is coming from everyday people — whether you’re a single mum who just wants to go home and watch MAFS with a glass of wine, or whether you’re a nurse helping people in community.

Everyone has a role to play through small contributions.

Because those small contributions make a really big impact in remote areas.

So stay tuned. Join the circle. Become part of the family.

I feel really honoured to be another Torres Strait Islander leading work that creates change from the ground up, and working collaboratively with people who are on their own journey of understanding how we scale up resources in meaningful ways.

We’re doing some work around NAIDOC Week here on Naarm with local partners, which is really exciting and accessible for everyone.

And really, it’s about continuing these conversations so we can keep shifting the Overton window and casting a wider net to bring more people in.

We often grow up hearing the golden rule: treat others how you want to be treated.

But I think we need to decolonise that too.

We should treat others how they want to be treated — because they’re the ones leading and living what’s happening.

Speaker 1 (46:04.878)
A hundred percent.

And Tish, I’m just so grateful that we have you here launching Just Futures Collab to be that link between everyday people living on the mainland who want to see their generosity go exactly where it needs to go.

I think when people hear the word philanthropy, they often think it’s only for multi-millionaires with family trust funds.

But what excites me is activating everyday generosity.

Whether it’s five dollars a week or five dollars a month — whatever is accessible — the impact is huge when it goes directly where it’s needed.

Everyday people have an opportunity to get involved and see those resources doing the hard work on the ground.

And another way of injecting resources directly into First Nations-led projects — I’m here for it.

Speaker 0 (47:19.438)
A hundred percent.

And I think one thing I really see is that in the face of adversity, everyday people come together.

It doesn’t matter what shape, size, colour, or faith you are — people help their neighbours.

And honestly, I think that’s something to feel proud about in this country.

I know we can do this.

And I know it’s going to come from the people.

Speaker 1 (47:42.478)
Absolutely.

And Tish, I remember when we first connected through the work of Our Islands Our Home, which Clothing The Gaps is also really proud to support as a community partner.

I remember thinking: I live on the mainland. I drive a car. I consume resources. I benefit from all of these systems.

We have to be doing more. I have to be doing more.

Because the choices we make in our everyday lives are either harming, helping, or healing.

What we do matters, and it impacts the islands around us enormously.

Tish, thank you so much.

Firstly, for taking us to Masig at the start of our chat today. I’m so grateful to have mentally gone there with you.

And thank you for the work you’re doing and the role you’re playing in agitating, activating, and building community in this space.

And thank you for being so generous with your thoughts, reflections, knowledge, and cultural knowledge this morning.

I’ve absolutely loved our chat. It’s been such a pleasure.

And I really encourage people to check out Just Futures Collab, get involved, follow along, and support the work however they can.

I can’t wait to see these microgrants go out and hear about all the incredible things that are going to happen through them.

Speaker 0 (49:08.558)
Thank you so much.

Mina asa everyone, and have a wonderful day.

Speaker 1 (49:13.006)
Team, thanks so much for joining us, and thanks so much for listening to today’s episode of Community Conversations.

If something from today’s episode stayed with you, we hope it starts a conversation where you are.

Thanks for listening.