Sep. 29, 26

For the second year, The Explorers Club has partnered with Bow Seat: Creative Action for Conservation, the world’s largest environmental program for the creative arts, who have loaned us a selection of artwork and poetry from their Blue Planet Awareness Contest.

Submissions for the 2027 Challenge, The Nature of Truth: Environmentalism in an Age of Disinformation, is due on June 7, 2027. 


A woman bends over me,
staring at the cracked mirror of my waters.
Letting her dark hair into my reserved body—

I lie astonished, rippling as she washes her
hair in me. The frosty winds of November sweep
through the delicate curves of her ashen face.

I observe her tattered sari, her weak arms and chapped lips.
I hear the muffled sounds of her anklets
as she dips her cracked heels into my healing waters.

I accept all her pains and all her dirt alike
for water never complains.
And when she dares deep into my soul
I hold her like a mother does her child,

blanketing her in my soothing arms.

She looks at me through the dark veil of her damp hair.
Her eyes betray her pain,
but her lips stand still in secrecy.

Swiftly, she emerges out of my waters
as if reminded of her thirsty children.
She bends over me once again
and silently fills her pots—
earthen pots patched with moss.
Once, then twice, and thrice… filling her empty
pots with my water and her empty eyes with tears.

And once the water overflows,

she turns away into the depths of Thakur’s Garden.
Her anklets echo in the silence of the night.
A sound so sweet it looks out of place
in the terrible shadow of the
Thakur’s mansion.

I lie touched by the untouchable,
bluer and somehow stale.
For all water is not equal in
the eyes of the Thakur.
But all thirst is equal
in a cracked world where people
are denied fundamental rights.

I ripple in distress, cracked still,
waiting for the woman with her cracked pots
and for the Thakur with his cracked heart.
Maybe someday our cracks
Will fit in:

And the woman will venture deeper into my waters.
And her anklets will sing without fear.
Her pots will no longer bear moss
And the Thakur’s Garden will come alive with the
sound of her children.

And I?

I will no longer be cracked;
divided between the pure and the untouchables.
I will just be water.
Water that never complains.

Cracked

Dhruv Bhatt
Haldwani, India
2021, Senior, Poetry & Spoken Word

“I still remember the day when I read ‘The Thakur’s Well’ in grade six. Our teacher decided to take up the question mentioned in the ‘Before you read’ section of the book: Do you think all water is equal? The question was very confusing to me at first. How can water be different? It is the same tasteless, odorless, colorless fluid that comes out of taps and filters or falls as rain. It did not occur to me back then that water could be divided along caste and class lines. Many years have passed since that English class. What started as an attempt to answer a mere question led me to a journey where I discovered how social evils manifest themselves in many forms, often appearing unrelated at first glance. This poem is based on villages where most wells and ponds are reserved for the ‘high castes,’ and the ponds meant for the Dalit people or untouchables often dry up during the summers or suffer from neglect. The word Dalit means broken or cracked, which is a theme repeated throughout the poem. The color blue represents Dalit Resistance and the open skies, under which every person stands equal. I read about the practice of Joothan, where Dalit people are given stale food, crumbs, and stagnant water to consume. This gave me the idea of describing the water as stale, a metaphor for the age-old practice of Joothan. Through this poem, I have tried to present this cracked society by personifying water as the narrator. The poem’s structure, scattered words, and lines represent the broken state of Indian society. Using metaphors and adjectives, I have tried to paint the image of casteism and its impact on the lives of the Dalit people as I see it.”


Drought Puja

Sanjay Budda
Grapevine, TX
2024, Senior, Art: Digital 

“My submission encompasses my relatives struggle back in India to obtain water for farming, with drought consistently affecting their crop yields due to the effects of climate change. At home, I would frequently hear my dad talking with my Grandma, speaking of how the ‘varsham” or rain was constantly being pushed back, as temperatures soared. This led me to think of the village in India my dad is from and how they would deal with a lack of rain, from a cultural and religious standpoint. I asked my dad what rituals were performed to alleviate the dire conditions, and his answer surprised me. He described a “puja” where people would tie a toad to a stick along with leaves, march around his village, and pour water on the toad. He described this as symbolic of rains returning to the fields and allowing the plants to grow again. Though this “solution” is not scientifically plausible, it shows my experience with climate change, more specifically how this phenomena affects my culture. My submission attempts to portray this experience, and it acts as a direct representation of this “toad puja”. Within my piece the stick is angled diagonally, two toads and grass is tied to this stick, with water being poured from a basin in the top right corner. This water subsequently falls from the toad into the hands of the women seated in a dry field, representing the return of the rain, and the end of the drought. I use oranges throughout my piece to portray the lifelessness of the land, and emphasize the blue of the water, as it is what gives life and support the livelihoods of the farmers. My message to my viewers is that human condition, more specifically culture, is also greatly affected by climate change beyond just nature. Supporting a sense of community, whether it may be religious or not, is what allows us to tackle the bigger issues of the world, namely climate change.”


Broken

Keren-happuch Garba
Zaria, Nigeria
2021, Senior, Poetry & Spoken Word

In 2017, our water pipelines were destroyed in a road construction project, and ever since, getting water has been a struggle. We still rely on rainwater and wells dug in our backyards, and they still prove inadequate. We have adapted to this change but the question that needs an answer is, “What about the others?” Many states in Nigeria face graver plights than we do: people battle for water like their own lives, kids miss school just to fill their buckets with muddy water, and only few people have offered help. Each day, lakes are getting dryer, rain is depleting, drought is creeping in, and cholera is spreading faster. I want to offer help, even through this piece and join those out there who campaign for better water supplies to people’s homes.


The blades of our rusted roofs sing us black water,
Clouds kiss with bursts of thunder and merges of sky eyes.
No reflection holds faces drenched in the profile of beige skies
Like pools of broken pottery sitting unhopeful.

Drunken shards and tears are words to this caged soil.
A cup a day, and there won’t be bent backs to draw water.
Maybe fate and lots are the beginnings of our thirst,
The utter cause for reasons wished to be understood,
Or the violence that sits as empty bowls in kitchens.

Why do clay jars gather the most breaks?
That hands live as the belly of a lizard?
A thousand drops in a year are all the hours needed
For heartbeats the Southern rains never played.

Birds won’t murmur as they wait a while,
Mangoes won’t fall with grace,
Life’s rhythm may whisper to the bones of its brothers
As our hands dig for mudded earth.

pearl-bodied

Elane Kim
Walnut Creek, CA
2020, Senior, Poetry & Spoken Word

“The ocean has always struck me as a place teeming with life. I wanted to convey the idea that our bodies are connected to the ocean. After studying environmental chemistry with a close professor of mine, I learned about the science behind climate change, from greenhouse gases to melting ice caps to the ocean’s rising tides. I was inspired to spread awareness about the mounting dangers of climate change through my writing. Moreover, through poetry, I wanted to convey the urgency of our situation. Climate change isn’t simply a distant idea, but a current event that is wreaking havoc on our planet; its adverse effects will last for generations to come if we don’t act now. It is up to today’s generation to speak and to write, to protest and to conserve, to give the waves a reason to return to the shore. I am hopeful that change can be made by spreading awareness, and I will continue to advocate for environmental issues through writing.”


A Future to Protect

Yeso Kim
Tianjin, China
2021, Junior, Art

“As the water level rises, the world, people, animals, and other living creatures will be in danger. With rising water levels, buildings and materials are collapsing, and people are asking for help from drowning. As a result of collapsing buildings and other materials, people and animals often end up without homes or food. People in this situation are seeing the world being destroyed and ruined right before their eyes, which is why I showed emotions of confusion, sadness, and dismay in my piece. It is not too late to start helping the world now to avoid rising sea levels, and I hope that everyone will.”


Climate’s Orphan

Jeong-Won Namgung
Cresskill, NJ
2024, Junior, Art: Handcrafted

“To this very day, Millions of children in unseen parts of the world are forced to flee their homes and lose their most valued possessions as a result of Climate destruction. This piece captures a little girl floating in the ocean inside a shabby cardboard mailbox to illuminate the stranded realities of these children in silent suffering. The mailbox used as the girl’s escape boat is shipped off to ‘home’; however, the desolate reality is that in most cases, there is no promising ‘home’ for children like her to return to or newly settle down in. In this way, my artwork expresses the raw reality of Mother Nature’s most despairing children. Being an avid advocator for these children surviving on the fringes of society, integrating this interest of mine with new knowledge on the Climate was very eye opening. I love art for this expressive aspect to it: it becomes a magnifier for your voice. This is why I believe that we all should explore ways to spread our message on Climate Change and destruction.”


Piece for Peace

Hyobin Amy Pyo
Seoul, Republic of Korea
2025, Senior, Art: Handcrafted

“In our world today, I often feel disconnected from the nature that sustains us, overwhelmed by the buildings and complex apartments that take over the majority of the area I live in. The apartment complexes and all the construction sites made me realize that our natural spaces are rapidly disappearing. I began to imagine what our world would look like if we reverse the process and replace a piece of our modern world back into a space for nature. I was inspired by the way nature clears my mind of stress and complexity into a peaceful state. Whenever I felt overwhelmed, a walk in my local park, listening to the birds chirp and trees blossom, helped me reset, and I wanted to share that sense of peace through this artwork. Being creative is a tool for me to express my heart and emotions that I can not always put into words. Creating this artwork felt especially personal because it was made by the build up of my experience over the years. To express my ideas more creatively, I used a mix of various mediums, including puzzle pieces, which I have not used in the past. Physically removing and replacing each puzzle piece allowed me to deliver my message in a more impactful way. Through this process, I have learned how looking inside and going outside shapes not just our world, but also ourselves: our emotions and connections we feel for nature. My message to viewers is that change does not have to be huge or sudden, but it can come from small acts.”


All That’s Left

Gwenan Walker
New Canaan, CT
2019, Senior, Art

“This piece was completed using the pointillism drawing technique, and was inspired by both the antiquated scientific drawings of Ernst Haeckel and undersea statue exhibits like the Molinere Underwater Sculpture Park. This work was also observational, in the sense that I used my own sketches of statues from the Metropolitan Museum of Art as a reference for a statue to draw, such as the Ancient Greek “Head of a Youth” sculpture fragment. Through this piece, I was initially trying to exhibit the idea that the depletion of coral reefs, if unchecked, will soon turn them into nothing more than the drawings left in scientific journals, in the same way that all that’s left of ancient societies is often the works of art that they leave behind. While exploring and researching for this idea, I was definitely profoundly struck by just how irreversible the human mark is on our ocean’s ecosystems as a whole; when you look at underwater statue exhibits like the Molinere Sculpture Park, it can feel as if the exhibit is indicative of humanity’s constant negative presence, which was easily reinforced by all of the other research that I had to complete on the current state of our coral reef ecosystems. On the other hand, however, the fact that such exhibits are so quickly completely overrun with new life and organisms is also, to me, indicative of nature’s ability to bounce back, when given the chance. Through that, I think I found a way that my piece cannot only warn others about the future that lies before us, but also hope about what could happen should we choose to change our course.”


Lens of Change

Ruojin (Emma) Wu
Jericho, NY
2024, Senior, Art: Handcrafted

“Creating this piece allowed me to document our changing climate and its effects on different environments through my passion for photography. The process began with researching various landscapes impacted by climate change, using examples from different places around the world and illustrating diverse effects. I knew I wanted the camera to be the focal point of my piece. By depicting a camera capturing these moments, I aimed to convey both the urgency of the issue and a sense of hope. The lighthouse symbolizes hope and guidance. Through this exploration, I learned that my artistic expression could evoke powerful emotions and inspire others to reflect on and address climate change.”


The Sigh of Ashen Verdure

Kolleen Yoon
San Diego, CA
2025, Junior, Art: Digital

“My sister and I were looking at a parking lot from the balcony of a restaurant. My sister jokingly spread out her arms and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you choked up Mother Nature!” Though funny at the time, I remember how smothered and suffocated Nature looked through a sea of asphalt, with only a few skinny trees stretching out of the ground for air. That moment stayed with me as I noticed similar paralleles in my own community. It made me want to capture the quiet struggles of nature trying to breathe in a world built to ignore it. I used digital art to express this suffocation not only in my city but around the world. I looked into my community to witness what has been often overlooked—from the rustle of trees to tufts of green pushing through the sidewalk cracks. This year’s theme taught me that connecting with nature often begins by looking inward and realizing our distance from nature. By looking outside, I saw the physical displacement of nature; by looking inside, I saw my own–and society’s–role in that disconnect. The central figure in my piece, a tired woman-tree, represents nature as patient yet strained. The silhouettes on the left are ignorant of her presence, while those on the right reconnect and notice her. This contrast shows that renewal is still possible only if we choose to do it. I want viewers to understand that we are not separate from nature, and if we continue to harm her, we ultimately harm ourselves. This is not just her struggle—it’s ours.”