He envisioned a space to restore traditional food systems as a path toward food independence and community resilience. 

Maya families establish an ecological community in Quixayá

The center—now known as CEPC Tolimán—is located at the foothills of the towering Tolimán volcano in the lush valley of Quixayá. Here, a group of Kaqchikel Maya families has established an ecological community of family-run projects on their ancestral lands. After the damaging impacts of centuries of colonial rule and, more recently, plantation agriculture, Quixayá is a deliberate effort by local people to restore the degraded land and create a new model for future generations. The theme of re-learning underscores their efforts, and reclaiming indigenous practices creates hope in the community. 

Community Permaculture Center strengthens ecological and ancestral practices

Within this community, Ramiro’s Community Educational Permaculture Center (CEPC) Tolimán provides training and workshops on ecological agriculture. They also host a variety of demonstration systems that showcase regenerative agriculture, including traditional Maya practices, aquaculture, agroforestry, composting, and more. Cultural tradition is at the heart of its mission, and the trainings are rooted in Maya ancestral knowledge. 

One strategy, known as Milpa, is an ancestral practice of symbiotic diverse planting. In contrast to the colonial methods reliant on intensive chemical and pesticide use, Milpa uses diversified agricultural plots that rely on nutrient sharing and mutual growth. “Three sisters”—maize, squash, and beans—are grown together, along with a diverse mix of other ancestral crops. Each sister plays her role: the corn provides structural support, squash acts as ground cover, and the beans pulse nitrogen into the soil. 

The community permaculture center also embraces the Maya calendar and cosmovision to guide agricultural productivity. The Maya calendar tracks the natural cycles of the earth and sky to guide planting and harvesting cycles. The alignment to this calendar allows farmers to develop a reciprocal and harmonious relationship with the land. Workshops and classes are taught in a blend of Spanish and the Kaqchikel-Maya language, further preserving and revitalizing the language and culture. 

The Re-Earth grant provides employment and electricity

Grant funding from the Re-Earth Initiative has allowed CEPC Tolimán to fund a full-time staff member and install an electricity system. The grant provided one year’s salary for a staff position given to a young indigenous man. Local employment is extremely valuable at a time when many young Guatemalan men migrate out of the country in search of employment. According to USAID, approximately 150,000 young Guatemalans enter the workforce each year, competing for only 35,000 formal jobs. The staff position provides an opportunity to stay within the community, strengthen the local economy, and build long-term environmental stewardship. Before this position, CEPC Tolimán relied entirely on volunteers.

The grant also provided funds to connect the center to electricity, which has allowed for the use of lighting, computers, electric kitchen appliances, and power tools. Mia explains that  “simple logistics, like having a PowerPoint screen or a speaker, makes them a lot more attractive to bring in outside participants.” Reaching participants outside the community opens up new funding streams and opportunities for expansion. 

She adds, “[This grant has] opened up a sense of possibility and growth”. The funds expand CEPC’s ability to dream bigger and imagine a scale beyond what currently exists. External support encourages local efforts to keep going, reinforcing their commitment to environmental preservation. 

“The projects implemented have had a remarkable impact—not only within the community itself, but also across the municipality,” says Ramiro. He estimates that the project has rehabilitated three agricultural areas, encompassing approximately 60,000 square meters. “53 local families have benefited, including those of 12 agricultural producers who receive ongoing technical support. The center has also welcomed groups from neighboring communities to participate in exchanges of experience.”

How to Support

Moving forward, Mia encourages anyone interested in this project to contribute directly via CIELO, a nonprofit organization she founded to fundraise for this cause. There’s also the option to purchase a Living Maya deck, a deck of cards inspired by the Maya calendar. You can also reach out to CIELO to volunteer your time and expertise—the team is currently looking for support with accounting, storytelling, marketing, and sales. 

Community permaculture connects people to their land and sustains a culture of traditions. CEPC Tolimán, in partnership with Re-Earth Initiative, is helping to revive traditions by recognizing the value of stewards of the earth.

About the Author

Eugenia Chow is an environmental educator passionate about the intersection between food systems, culture, and climate justice. Currently, she is a Princeton in Africa fellow leading the communications strategy at Mpala Research Centre, where she ensures that conservation science impacts the broader population. Driven by her desire to make environmental education accessible, she founded the platform Eugreenia and developed an honors seminar titled “Alternative Economic Visions: Global Models for Socio-Ecological Wellbeing” as a Morehead-Cain Scholar at UNC-Chapel Hill. Born and raised in Hong Kong, she is excited to bring an international perspective to her writing at Re-Earth Initiative.

Daniela’s day started bright and early, woken up by a stream of light peeking through the windows and the sound of lively music coming from beyond the dormitory doors. She followed the music into a school patio with smells of a home-cooked breakfast. She grabs herself a plate and chats with the people around her, exchanging pleasantries and getting ready for the first day of the Global Meeting for Climate and Life, or dubbed AntiCOP. It occurred approximately a week before the 29th Conference of the Parties to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change, or informally called COP 29.

Daniela Bobadilla Romero, the Data and Impact Director at ReEarth Initiative, fondly recounts these details about staying in an old school-turned-headquarters for AntiCOP in Oaxaca, Mexico from November 4 to 9, 2024. “The climate is incredibly different [from COP spaces],” she recalls, who has also been to climate COP's. Small, intimate, and full of life. 

Those words would be the furthest adjectives to describe the Climate COPs, often synonymous with massive conference rooms, luxury hotels, and people dressed in business attire. Since March 1995, these events are meant to foster conversations between diplomats, activists, academics, and community members from across the globe seeking to find common goals and solutions to combat climate change. However, there have been many critiques questioning the effectiveness of COP and the exclusivity of attendance, particularly with activists, youth, and Indigenous and other minority voices.

“The system is [...] rigged to give the illusion of diplomacy [when in reality] it’s very much stacked against the most oppressed,” Daniela says. To illustrate, Climate COPs are divided into two spaces: negotiation rooms and the Pavilions. Daniela explains that the Pavilions, stands or open rooms hosted by organizations and governments where talks about climate solutions and global collaborations occur, are separate from where political decision makers and negotiators are. In enclosed rooms, at the opposite side of large conference venues—with security, air conditioning, and fancy dinners afterwards—decision makers oftentimes have their answers to final negotiations solidified long before COP began. There is a disconnect between the decision makers and the Pavilions—and a disconnect between the people in power and the realities of climate change in underdeveloped and poorly represented communities. 

Sacni, one of the organizers of the Global Meeting for Climate and Life, says they built AntiCOP as a separate space by and for grassroots and social movements to re-evaluate what is considered important in the fight against climate change. Way beyond a counter-movement to COPs, AntiCOP seeks to challenge “extractivism, green colonialism, and megaprojects that strip our communities of their resources and lands” and instead, build solutions and communities “in harmony with ecosystems, biodiversity, and justice.”

“[COP talks] about loss and damage, [...] carbon credits, and a lot of legislation about climate change,” Sacni says, “We need to focus on what’s important, [what] is threatened the most. Life has to be put in the center [of the conversation].” 

During discussion sessions, climate activists and land defenders shared problems and co-created solutions for five topics: the water crisis, forced displacement/climate change migration, commodification of life, militarization and megaprojects, and extractivism. Then, time was dedicated to carving out agreements between the climate movement and land defense movement, developing concrete and tangible goals that can be achieved. 

Sacni emphasized the importance of these discussion sessions, holding space for Indigenous peoples and land defense peoples to say their piece. “It was very powerful to listen to them and the resolutions they came up with without us [the climate activists]” said Sacni, “If we have the platform and the resources and the possibility to make these connections [with] people that need the most attention, we need to do that [...] They have voices! We need to take a step behind and let them take ownership of [these spaces]. Those voices need to be in the center. ” 

When asked about what COP could learn from AntiCOP to improve its effectiveness in addressing climate change for all people, Daniela lists many things: a more community-made process, trust developed between people, and a shift from profit to social justice. “But the main one would be… just actually caring.”

Connection, trust, and empathy are expressed as the keys to meaningful climate goals, leading to tangible actions that can be achieved. Activism should not be seen as black and white where one solution must fit all. Action must be taken from the current generation and the many generations before us, especially from those who have tended the land for many eons.

“[There is] importance in youth energy powering the ideas that people have been thinking, discussing, and perfecting [from] way before we were born,” Daniela expressed in her final reflections on attending AntiCOP, "Each of us has a different place in this movement to build better worlds, what we need most is collaboration" 

Sacni expressed a similar perspective on the role activists have within the environmental movement. If we want people from all walks of life to become involved in the solutions, activists need to create the spaces that will allow them to raise their voices. And that can be as simple as breaking down language barriers in AntiCOP as youth activists eagerly volunteered to translate for folks who could not speak English or Spanish. To Sacni, those little moments of servitude were like magic. As she so aptly put it: “We are activists… let’s help!”

To learn more about the outcomes of AntiCOP 2024, you can read the Final Statement here. You can also keep up to date with updates on AntiCOP’s commitments on the platform Mirrors of the Global South.

About the Author:

Esther Duong (she/her) is a Vietnamese-American storyteller, activist, and lover of native plants from the Bay Area, California, USA. With more than five years of experience in grassroots advocacy, she advocates for environmental justice, policies, and education with a particular interest in creating sustainable and equitable communities. Esther has a major in Environmental Policy Analysis and Planning from University of California, Davis, with a minor in Landscape Restoration and intends to pursue conservation planning. In her free time, she likes to read fantasy and sci-fi novels, listen to pop/k-pop/indie music, and try new food spots.

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She was reflecting on her time at the ROOTS ecofeminist camp in Medellín, Colombia — a space where participants explored the connections between environmental justice and feminism. Like many others, Maricielo Chalco arrived with a deep concern for both people and the planet, but it was through the language and community of the camp that those values began to cohere into a shared framework. Maricielo’s journey into ecofeminism is rooted in her personal and family history. Growing up in Lima, Peru, she maintained a strong connection to her parents' origins in the Peruvian Andes, specifically Casablanca in the Junín region. After migrating to Lima as young adults, her parents settled on the city’s periphery, where they faced significant social and environmental injustices. This upbringing gave Maricielo an early awareness of systemic inequality, fueling her passion for advocacy. Yet for much of her life, feminism and environmentalism remained separate concerns.

Maricielo was first introduced to feminist thought through grassroots efforts to empower migrant women facing violence, particularly Venezuelan young women and girls. It wasn’t until she attended the ROOTS ecofeminist camp that she encountered a space where feminist and environmental values came together. A pivotal concept introduced at the camp was cuerpo-territorio-tierra (body–territory–land), which emphasizes the deep connection between our bodies and the Earth. As Maricielo reflected, “I started thinking of cuerpo-territorio-tierra as one idea—our bodies and our territories are inseparable. The first territory we’re born into is our body, so to care for Mother Earth, we have to start by understanding and caring for ourselves.”This framework resonated deeply with Maricielo, who began to connect it with memories of her maternal grandmother — a Quechua-speaking woman who lived in balance with Pachamama (Mother Earth) through farming and ecological stewardship.

The camp was transformative. Surrounded by women, non-binary, and trans participants, Maricielo felt a renewed sense of warmth, connection, and empowerment. She began to see her identity, her history, and her community through an intersectional ecofeminist lens: “Understanding how gender and nature are connected made me realize how it’s all tied to my story, my background, and my roots.”

Inspired by this experience, Maricielo now works with Ollas Sostenibles, a grassroots initiative that empowers women from marginalized communities on the outskirts of the city—communities much like the one her parents once called home. The project focuses on creating sustainable economic opportunities grounded in ecological care and technological innovation.

“We partner with communities to build new sources of income using innovation, technology, and ancestral methods,” she explained. “We also create sessions where women take the lead in their communities, particularly as leaders of ollas comunes [Spanish for community kitchens where neighbors come together to cook and share meals during times of scarcity]. This is a project created for them and with them—they will be the ones leading it and ensuring its sustainability.”

The Ollas Sostenibles initiative integrates ancestral knowledge — such as traditional ecological practices — into modern sustainable initiatives, including urban community gardens (huertos urbanos comunitarios), water treatment systems, and biodigesters. Unlike state-funded programs, Ollas Sostenibles is built by and for the community. Though it resembles the Western concept of soup kitchens, it stands apart due to its grassroots, autonomous foundation. This initiative is a powerful embodiment of ecofeminism: driven by the community, centered on women, and rooted in ecological principles.

Maricielo is candid about the challenges ecofeminist movements face in Latin America. Patriarchal attitudes, violence, and machismo can render feminist and environmental concerns as “soft” or emotional. There’s often limited visibility and few resources for grassroots ecofeminist work. Still, she sees immense opportunity in the region’s diverse indigenous cosmologies, where ancestral wisdom offers models for living in harmony with the Earth — practices passed down through women in the form of storytelling, art, cultural resistance, and traditional ecological knowledge. This “lived ecofeminism,” she says, is a unique strength of the Latin American context — and a reminder that every region, with its own cultures, histories, and cosmovisions, holds seeds of ecofeminism waiting to be nurtured.

For those seeking to engage with ecofeminism, Maricielo emphasizes education and personal reflection: “Research, read and share; try to connect yourself, and reflect on who’s responsible and who’s affected by the environmental crisis.” She encourages people to find ecofeminist spaces if they exist in their community, or create them if they don’t, and to reconnect with ancestral knowledge that may have been lost. Many, she notes, like herself, are already embodying ecofeminism without realizing it—so it's worth exploring and understanding our own ancestral ties between land, body, and liberation with patience and compassion.

She also invites others to read the Eco-feminist Statement that emerged from the dialogues held during the Latin American Ecofeminist Camp in Colombia, as it reflects the collective voices, visions, and commitments of those building this movement across the region.

For those looking to learn more and take action, the Ecofeminism and Environmental Liberation Toolkit is a valuable starting point. It provides background, principles, and practical tools to explore ecofeminism through an intersectional lens. Maricielo’s story reminds us that ecofeminism is not just theory—it is a living practice rooted in community, ancestry, and action, offering a vision for a more just and sustainable world where the liberation of people and the Earth go hand in hand.

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About the author: 

Cleo Baldoumas

Cleo, an enthusiastic student who recently studied abroad in Morocco, has centered her academic journey on the power of communication. Her research on beetles and fireflies delves into how these creatures use pheromones to communicate, reflecting her fascination with decoding complex signals. Beyond the lab, she bridges linguistic and cultural gaps by translating scientific knowledge, driven by a passion for making information accessible. This dual role as researcher and translator aligns seamlessly with her role at the ReEarth Initiative, where Cleo envisions language as a unifying tool to connect diverse communities and enrich the global understanding of critical issues like climate change.

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