How Hurricane Maria Spurred a Young Puerto Rican Climate Activist to Action

With a name derived from the Lakota tribe’s historical Tokala Society—a group of warriors who showed bravery and leadership from a young age—Tokala is a photography series spotlighting the next generation of BIPOC climate activists. Published exclusively on Vogue, the project is spearheaded by creative director and stylist Marcus Correa and photographer Carlos Jaramillo, who have worked with Future Coalition to provide each subject with additional funding (up to $5,000) so that they can continue their activism.

The colonial Spanish cobblestoned streets of Old San Juan in Puerto Rico are almost always crowded with a mix of tourists, whether from the many cruise ships that dock nearby, or the beachfront hotels a little further down in Condado. But there are locals, too: those who come to fly kites with their children on the green fields in front of the El Morro fortress, or are simply spending a lazy Saturday or Sunday walking through the streets, eating an alcapurria here, drinking a piña colada there. It is laden with memories and sentimental meaning for Puerto Ricans, both those on the island and in the diaspora. It is also the site of La Fortaleza, which has been home to the governor since the 16th century, and as such has often been a place of protests. And it is here where the young activist Isabel Valentín grew up.

“My mom was very passionate about the environment, and about making you passionate about the environment,” Valentín tells me via Zoom from a cafe in Syracuse, NY where she is currently majoring in environmental studies at SUNY College of Environmental Science & Forestry. “She took me to nature reserves, camps, and all these activities that would make me bond with nature, because she was aware that it would be harder for me, as I didn’t really have access to that [because of where we lived].” Every summer since she was nine years old, Valentín would go to stay-away camps in different nature reserves on the island; by the time she was 13, she was working at them. That same year, she began attending the University High School, which is part of the University of Puerto Rico, and has long been known for its heavy political involvement. “When I was in ninth grade, there was a general strike at the college, which made [my] school go on general strike, and I became a leader,” she remembers. “I was at every protest and every meeting.”

The students at the University of Puerto Rico were striking against a $450 million cut to the university’s budget proposed by the Puerto Rico Oversight, Management, and Economic Stability Act, or PROMESA as it is better known—also Spanish for “promise”—a group of people appointed by the United States government to restructure the island’s debt. Many of its seven members have ties to the private industries that contributed to the debt in the first place, just one of the many ways that Puerto Rico’s status as a freely associated state with the United States (essentially a colony), has exacerbated many of the issues faced by its inhabitants. After Hurricane Maria made landfall in Puerto Rico in 2017 as a Category 5 storm—the worst storm the island had seen since the late 19th century—those issues were further amplified.

“Hurricane Maria, and Irma, which happened so close [before] that and sort of blended into one experience, brought a sense of urgency to the problem,” she explains. “Before it was something I could talk about, and learn about, and then the hurricane happened and it was like, ‘No, we’re dying. Someone needs to talk about this and no one’s gonna do it, and it’s gonna be me.’” Though still in high school at the time, Valentín became an organizer within her community. From the beginning, she was keenly aware of her privilege as a person that grew up in the metropolitan area, which is almost always quicker to receive resources and recover than those on the rest of the island—an issue most recently seen after Hurricane Fiona’s passage through the island this September.

“Most of my [and my] friends’ organizing has been [about] listening to people speaking, and allowing them to organize their communities, and just offering my support and resources,” says Valentín. “There are so many people that have been yelling and screaming [about the injustices they’ve been facing] for decades and no one’s been listening. So it’s my responsibility to speak when no one is speaking, but it’s also my responsibility to hold the microphone over those that have been speaking for decades and facing systematic oppression.”

She continues, “Especially after moving to the United States, I’ve found that the best way is to be a platform that people can bounce your ideas off of. Instead of just listening you [think], ‘Okay, how can we elevate that into action? How could I help you change these circumstances?’ Asking these questions can make people feel comfortable, and empowers them to uplift their voices.”

The lack of adequate response from Ricardo Rosselló, the governor at the time of Hurricane Maria, as well as the federal government more broadly, contributed directly to the deaths of thousands of people. (The official death toll was later determined to be 2,975 people, a marked difference from Rosselló’s initial claim that it had only been 64.) In the summer of 2019, after chats on the Telegram app between the governor and other officials where the participants mocked the dead were leaked to the public—and after entire containers full of water were found abandoned during a time of urgent need, among other shortcomings—nightly protests broke out in front of La Fortaleza for 11 straight days, demanding Rosselló’s resignation.

A senior in high school at the time, Valentín was right there every night, protesting alongside her mother. “My mom would not allow me to go if I was not there with her keeping me safe,” she recalls. “Ironically, the only time I went without her was the time I was gassed and pepper-sprayed.” She adds, “Honestly, I look at that time very fondly. That was a very particular experience because I was so filled with this genuine outrage, and this anger, and I had all the resources to actually express it. I felt empowered to express it. And I feel like a person that lives in a colony, it is very rare the day that you feel empowered to take action over your circumstances. That was when I truly realized the power that people have over leadership.”

Although Valentín already knew that she was going to pursue a career related to the environment, the island’s situation unwittingly carved out a clear path for her to follow. “Right now, I’m doing an environmental studies degree, but my focus is law policy and planning, so I want to turn that into a law degree afterwards, and then I want to get a doctorate in Caribbean studies in San Juan,” she says.

For while Valentín is excited to be able to declare herself an expert in Caribbean environmental studies and the law, above all, she cannot wait to go back to her island. “Leaving Puerto Rico is the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” she adds. “Every day I miss it, and my only wish is to return to my people and my community, and do the important work for and with the people that are changing our world—because we deserve a better one.”

^{Photographed by Carlos JaramilloCreative Direction & Styling: Marcus CorreaProduction Manager: Thomas LopezHair: Genesis MercedMakeup: Tiffany Cox, Melanie RodriguezPhoto Assistant: Cecilia GonzalezStyle Assistant: : Fátima IxchelProducer: Kaylah Brathwaite}