Why I’m singing in the face of climate change

When you hear the words ‘collective action’, what springs to mind? People marching with placards, the air ringing with chants, fists raised in solidarity? Probably not a motley crew of amateur singers with a penchant for 80s pop classics. Well, not all heroes wear capes.

I sing in an a cappella community choir in my spare time and I will tell anyone who’ll listen how absolutely invaluable having a weekly warble is. Singing has been a long-held passion of mine – I’ve done it since I was a kid, from murdering ‘Away In A Manger’ in primary school to singing backing for Gaz Coombes (him off of Supergrass) as part of the Southbank Centre’s Voicelab. I’ve been in some form of choir for most of my life and it’s brought me some of the most incredible experiences and lifelong friendships.

The science behind the song

Singing doesn’t just feel good – it does you good. Physically it improves breathing, improves speech and posture, improves circulation and can reduce pain levels (Clift et al, 2001). It also does wonderful things for you mentally, giving stressed and overworked brains something positive to actively focus on. You literally can’t be thinking about work when you’re trying to work out what’s going on in bar 38 or how you’re going to sing a top G sharp. It helps create clarity and a great sense of wellbeing. Plus, singing alongside others makes you part of something. Any feelings of isolation melt away once you sing even a few notes in harmony. In that moment, you’re making something amazing, and you’re doing it together.

Let life be like music. And death a note unsaid

Never have I felt this more keenly than in March 2024. I live in Walthamstow, London – an area targeted by far-right rioters following the murders of Alice da Silva Aguiar, Bebe King and Elsie Dot Stancombe in Southport. These innocent girls’ deaths were a terrible tragedy, and the violence and racism that ensued were a hideous way to mark such a loss of precious life. Uncontrolled anger and destruction raged across the UK, with Walthamstow residents warned that a fascist march was planned for 7th August 2024, and to stay inside and not engage with any rioters. I was worried and frightened, by the state of the world and by the threat to my neighbours and to my beloved area.

That same evening, I had choir rehearsal in central London. All day I wrestled with whether to go, as it meant I’d get back to Walthamstow town centre just after the riot was due to take place and potentially put myself in danger. Would I choose to hide in safety at home, or refuse to let racism and hate stop me doing something I love with others? In the end, my heart won out and I went to rehearsal. But my heart was also heavy with fear about what would happen when I got home. Would people be fighting? Would my community be on fire?

All you need is love

I arrived at rehearsal slightly late and everyone was already singing, so I slipped in at the back. They were singing a four-part harmony piece we’d been learning called ‘This Is Home’ by Sophie Efthimiou (link at end of article). The voice parts join one by one, layering the harmonies and building the sound as they sing: ‘This is Home, where I belong. In this breath, in this heart. This is home, where I belong. In the voice, in this song.’ I joined in and together we sang it through a few times. It was simple and beautiful. When we finished, I unexpectedly burst into tears. Because my choir is home – it’s my safe place, it’s where I’m happy and where I connect with other people. It is a space of love and care – the polar opposite of the worry and fear I’d been carrying with me all day. The song reminded me how important we are to each other and what it’s like to truly feel like you belong. It was an incredibly overwhelming moment and one I’ll never forget.

Time to face the music

Later that evening, feeling all the feels, I took the tube back home to Walthamstow. The fear slowly crept back in as I remembered what I might be coming back to. So imagine the joy that soared inside me when I discovered that a huge, peaceful anti-racism march had taken place, countering the far-right threat with solidarity, love and acceptance. The haters hadn’t won! What my choir had done in that rehearsal room had been enacted on the streets of East London. Thousands of local people had turned out to prove that there is no place for hate and division in our society. We share it generously with others. Because this is home.

Finding our voice

So, when I was looking for a way to bring our new idea for the RSPB, ‘Together We Fly’ to life – an idea built on the importance of people coming together to do something positive and feeling all the benefits of being part of an incredible collective – I immediately drew on what I knew. What better way to show the power that many voices can have to effect real change than by showing them singing together? Nature needs our voices – and our hands, our hearts and our hope. And we need nature just as much, just like we need each other and a healthy planet to live on. There are so many simple ways to take action for nature and doing them makes us feels awesome. Connected. And part of the solution. We can’t sing our way out of climate change, but we can sing while we do things that make a difference. We can join together to become more than the sum of our parts; a collective that listens and adapts and changes tempo and keeps the momentum going. So, roll up your sleeves and get involved – find your flock and be part of something incredible. You won’t regret it, even if you can’t hit that top F sharp. Because someone else will. And your voice for nature matters. Because together we fly.

Watch Sophie’s poignant ‘This is Home’ and see the Walthamstow Anti-Racism march in pictures. Watch Together We Fly, Futerra’s latest campaign for the RSPB and sing along – it’s impossible not to!