The Shared Ground Project: Tuvalu, a Nation Fighting For Its Future.

Photograph captured by Kieran Lonieski

Tuvalu is a small Polynesian nation north of Fiji, known for its stunning beaches, rich culture, and communal way of life. Unfortunately, in recent years, Tuvalu has been known for its complicated future. Rising seas are swallowing its land from above and below, and experts warn that large parts of the country may be uninhabitable within just 25 years. Climate change isn’t a future issue in Tuvalu; it’s a daily reality.

My interest in Tuvalu began back in second grade, when I spent hours after school exploring Google Earth. One afternoon, zooming into a tiny speck halfway between Hawaii and Australia, I dropped into Street View and walked the narrow roads of Funafuti. Even at seven years old, I knew there was something special about this place, and when I later learned about its fight against climate change, it stayed with me for years.

In June, I decided that I wanted to document the stories of young Tuvaluans living through this crisis. I quietly began emailing climate agencies in the country, unsure if anyone would respond. Then the Tuvalu Climate Action Network wrote back, saying they loved my idea and offered to host me. I was thrilled, but a $3,000 plane ticket felt impossible. After months of working my first job, I saved exactly what I needed. Realizing that nothing mattered to me more than this trip, I committed to going.

On November 2nd, I embarked on a 45-hour journey, alone. Upon my arrival on November 4th, I was greeted with smiles, hugs, and a fou, a traditional symbol of welcome. I was placed with my host brother, Afele, who introduced me to his family, his friends, and even his dog, Puppy. He also translated for me and helped me conduct interviews in both Nui and Tuvaluan.

But what struck me most wasn’t just the kindness or the culture; it was what climate change is doing to their home. While there, I saw the worst flooding I could imagine. In Tuvalu, it doesn’t come from the shoreline; the ocean bubbles out of the ground. I saw water bubbling up in different areas of the island, pooling across entire neighborhoods. I was told that some days, kids walk to school through knee-high water, not because of rain but because the tide pushed directly through the Earth itself.

The homes, yards, and roads were swallowed almost daily. People carried groceries, backpacks, and even babies through a sea that didn’t belong there. And when I visited Nauti Primary School, its principal shared with me how so many of her students are afraid for their futures. They grow up watching their playgrounds flood, their homes shift, and their roads disappear underwater. Many children, she said, ask if they will have a country to live in when they grow up, a fear no child ever should have to live with.

And yet, amidst this reality, Tuvalu’s way of life is extraordinary. Their culture is rooted in community; large families live together, they cook together, care for one another, and treat every person as part of a larger family. In the evenings, everyone gathers on the runway, the only large open space in the country. Kids race bikes under the sunset, teens play volleyball and rugby, and families walk together. It’s beautiful, but also delicate. Much of what makes Tuvalu unique is at risk of being lost to the rising seas.

Despite the flooding and the uncertainty, Tuvalu is breathtakingly beautiful. The water is clear and blue, the palm trees sway back and forth in the island breezes, and the people are warm and friendly in all the things they do. Being there changed me. I arrived unaware of most of the world’s issues. Still, I left with a completely different perspective on the world, its fragility, its inequalities, and the incredible strength of communities fighting to protect their home.

And on my last day, the people I had grown close to gathered to say goodbye: placing sixteen hand-made necklaces around my neck, each woven by someone who wanted me to remember them, and giving me another fou. It was one of the most meaningful farewells I’ve ever received.

Tuvalu might be a small country, but it has a powerful story. And together, we need to stand up for it and its future.