Foundations for hope
When discussing the concept of hope in relation to the climate crisis, one of my students remarked, “Talking about hope gives me uneasiness and anxiety; the fact that we need to talk about hope is scary.” In one way or another, hope involves confronting a challenge or a threat. It’s about a future that we cannot predict, and our desire for a positive outcome. Hope is also linked to our ability to accept and meet challenges and limitations in life, recognizing that outcomes may not be guaranteed and that there are always elements beyond our control (Ojala, 2017; Rosa, 2019). This is not easy, and the multiple crises facing societies and the planet make it difficult to engage in questions about hope in education. For many a sense of stability and security has been lost and feeling hopeful is increasingly hard.
As a concept “hope” invites students to engage in overarching reflections and judgments regarding the state of the world and where it is heading. This can be overwhelming and inevitably includes distressing global issues where the possibility of a positive outcome is very limited, and in some cases, lost. Students’ worldviews and attitudes toward life—such as whether one identifies as an optimist, realist, or pessimist—can further make these discussions very personal and the sensitive subject. Choosing to try not to think and talk about hope and the future may appear as a solution. However, having hope is vital for learning and motivation to create a better world. So, discussions are needed in education, even if we may be at loss, and answers and perceptions diverge.
As Ojala (2017) shows, “hope” can be conceptualized and approached in many ways in education. Here I wish to share a few poems relating to the foundations of hope that I find supportive. The first is a famous verse by Emily Dickinson, also found in Satish Kumar’s book Soil, Soul and Society (2024, p. 9):
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without words
And never stops at all.
Hope may be seen as an inner source of energy and inspiration, which is fundamental to our existence and purposefulness in life. In the terminology of Hartmut Rosa (2019), hope may arise when we engage in resonant relationships with the world, actively listening and responding to our experiences and environment. Hope manifests in action when we are connected to our inner core, our values, dreams and our creative energy. It is very difficult to live without hope, as it is essential to what we find meaningful and connected to our curiosity for life. Hope as a life-affirming energy needs to be taken care of and nurtured. Sustaining this energy in ourselves and supporting it in others in education, however difficult, is therefore urgently needed.
As Ojala (2017) concludes, hope relates to the goals one considers desirable, the pathways perceived as effective for achieving these goals, and one’s ability to motivate oneself to pursue these pathways. For youth and adults, reflecting on problems from multiple perspectives, considering constraints, and imagining futures can create critical hope. We may promote active and radical perceptions of hope, when hope becomes a conscious choice—taking the right action, irrespective of what the future holds (Ojala, 2017; Lange, 2023). Reflecting may not necessarily start from an overall question such as “Is there hope?” but from more concrete ones such as “What can we hope for?” and “What do we hope for—ourselves, for other human beings, and for the more-than-human world?” Providing space in education for alternative perspectives and stories, as well as the significant work and efforts that have been and are currently being undertaken for sustainability, can help in envisioning desirable and possible futures (Berry, 1999; Lange, 2023).
As Ojala (2017) argues, the ways we develop our conceptions of hope are deeply socially embedded, and social relations and communities are foundational for hope. Hope is closely intertwined with experiences of trust and beliefs in the benevolence of others. Trust is significantly developed in childhood, but is equally important for adults, and is reflected in our expectations on life. Children’s lack of trust in adults’ engagement in climate issues has been shown to be central to their experiences of hope and distrust (Hickman et al., 2021). Lack of trust in fellow human beings and society can also be a significant reason why adults do not engage. Individuals worldwide systematically underestimate the willingness of their fellow citizens to act for the climate (Andre et al., 2024). This shows the need for greater knowledge, but strengthening interpersonal trust and collective hope is also central. As Lange (2023) and many sustainability educators argue, to build more trust respect, compassion and love need to have more space in education. Love as a foundation for trust and hope is beautifully expressed in the poem by Chief Dan George, cited in Lange (2023, p. 391):
The Right Kind of Love
The right kind of love, the silent, deep, and lasting one, pleases the Creator. Sometimes there may be darkness in our hearts that makes us dread the future. Young people should never overlook that this love is working silently in a thousand ways. Because of it, we can have confidence in the years ahead. Where this love lives, beauty grows.
