A Shared Story, A Shared Responsibility

29/11/2024

This text is by a woman named Aniele Marinho. She wrote:
“Whenever I have the opportunity, I tell my story. I lived on the streets of Rio de Janeiro from the age of 5 to 19. I experienced extreme poverty, scavenging for food from restaurant trash. Cardboard was my mattress. At the age of 7, I was abused by my stepfather. My mother would beat me if I didn’t bring her money. She lost custody of me, and I spent a year living in a shelter.
I only learned to read because a newsstand vendor, who worked at a kiosk on Rua das Flores, in Praça Saens Peña, lent me comic books. I was supported by many people who distributed food boxes—what we call ‘quentinha,’ meaning a hot meal—clothes, and affection. But I also experienced the darkest side of people, like being woken up with a bucket of water or, in the middle of the night, having a bag of feces thrown on my head from the top of a building.
My mother was a loving mother, but at the same time, she was sad and bled her pain into me. She was also abused as a child. She also lived amid misery, and as a Black and poor woman, she experienced violence in all its forms.
My grandmother, who was a descendant of enslaved people from Bahia, had no education and couldn’t envision a life different from the one she was dealt.
At 16, I joined a social circus program. I discovered art, music, and citizenship. Culture transformed my life. Through that opportunity, I wanted to live something different.
At 19, I left the streets for good. I went back to school and received an opportunity—a job opportunity.
I took the ENEM, a national exam in Brazil that determines access to higher education (this might help explain it for readers unfamiliar with it). Through that, I earned a 100% scholarship from PROUNI, a federal program that offers scholarships to low-income students so they can attend university. I completed two semesters of a pedagogy degree, though I haven’t graduated yet.
Today, I am a social educator and the mother of three beautiful boys. I broke the cycle of my family’s struggles, but it wasn’t just because I had willpower. It was because I had the opportunity to live a life different from the one life had reserved for me.
This was only possible because of opportunities given by many people.
I don’t believe in meritocracy. I was truly a victim of the system. But along the way, I met incredible people who helped me transform my life. Some people just need an opportunity.”
For me, what matters most is this: when we talk about climate change, we are ultimately talking about people. When we discuss the preservation of animals and nature, we are still, at the core, talking about people. Yet, increasingly, I see a world where people are placed last.

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For me, what matters most is this: when we talk about climate change, we are ultimately talking about people. When we discuss the preservation of animals and nature, we are still, at the core, talking about people. Yet, increasingly, I see a world where people are placed last.

The philosopher Umberto Galimberti observes that the world is becoming increasingly technical. Although I come from a family deeply intellectual and attuned to human desires, intentions, and the pursuit of a better world, I find myself questioning whether our work holds the same significance it once did. Thank you, Aniele, for reminding us of its importance. Recently, I have noticed a troubling rise in shallow idealism and hollow positivism, which fail to confront the real challenges we face.
Looking after the planet is not just an abstract responsibility—it is about safeguarding the future for our children, ensuring they inherit a world where they can thrive, connect, and belong. Aniele’s story is a powerful reminder of this truth. Her story could be anyone’s story, anywhere in the world—a testament to the shared struggles and hopes that bind humanity.
Creating a better future requires more than good intentions; it demands that we step beyond the comfortable bubbles of belonging we often seek. While these bubbles provide a sense of safety and connection, they can also limit our perspective. To truly address the challenges before us, we must expand our cognitive horizons and deepen our understanding of the world and each other. Without this shift, all our talk of building a better world risks becoming nothing more than wasted effort.