| For years, researchers and activists believed explaining the science of climate change had the power to rouse policymakers and the public to stop it. It hasn't worked out that way. Even as an overheating climate ravages the planet, the idea of a world beset by floods, droughts and rising seas still feels like a distant threat for many — affecting other people in other places way off in the future. When alarm does break through, it's easy to feel paralyzed by the problem. Trisha Shrum felt that way after leaving a climate change conference in 2014. Then a PhD candidate studying behavioral and environmental economics, she was shaken by what she'd heard from researchers and politicians. As she made her way home, she started drafting a letter to her daughter, addressed for the year 2050. She was frustrated to find herself making excuses. "It's kind of lame when you're telling your child: 'I'm sorry I didn't try to create this better world for you and protect your future,'" she said in a recent interview. So she started over. First, she poured out her grief for the world her daughter was about to inherit, and then she focused on what was within her power to change. Something clicked for her. "I don't need to be able to solve all of climate change," she remembers thinking. "Even if we're not successful, even if bad things happen in the future, I can tell my child and the people I know and love that I did everything I could for them. That was really empowering, especially as a parent of a young child." By the time she arrived home, she had resolved to change her dissertation at Harvard's Kennedy School to test if this approach could work for everyone. A decade later, DearTomorrow, a nonprofit Shrum and Jill Kubit co-founded, has prompted more than 5,000 people to produce letters, poems, illustrations and other personal reflections addressed to the future. Can writing letters like these really change people's behavior? Some studies suggest it may be one of the most powerful ways to inspire support for climate action — and among the few to work across the political divide. This past week, I wrote a letter to my own children, the youngest of whom will be my age by 2070. It forced me to confront in the most personal way what no study or trend line had before: My children will never know the world I grew up in. From the shores to the mountains, many of the places near our home in San Francisco will be transformed. Globally, an estimated 30 percent of the population will endure "near-unliveable" temperatures that rival the hottest parts of the Sahara. Yet writing the letter was not demotivating. It was clarifying. When the time came, I wanted to be able to answer their question: What did you do? The story of every fight worth having, I wrote to them, is that you don't give up when you feel like you're losing. I posted the letter on DearTomorrow, as well as on the wall near my desk, so I can see it when I start work in the morning. Here's what I learned about writing to the future and what that might mean for you. DearTomorrow invites anyone to write in, or submit a photo or video. If you choose, your entry can be published as part of the archive for others to read. Here's mine. Write me with your questions at climatecoach@washpost.com. I read all your emails. | 
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