Interview with Nadia Ahmad
Law Professor / Environmental Justice Advocate
Where are you from, and why there?
I’m from Florida, a state where the impacts of climate change are immediate and destructive as we witnessed with back-to-back hurricanes and almost 50 tornadoes preceding Hurricane Milton. Growing up in Orlando to parents who were immigrants from Pakistan and India, I’ve witnessed firsthand the increasing frequency and intensity of hurricanes and natural disasters in my home state and my parents’ native lands. I don’t have to study or read about it because it’s bound in who I am.
During Hurricane Ian, a tree fell on my house as I was sitting with my three children. It took months to repair, highlighting the long-lasting impacts that these disasters have on people’s lives. Florida with its vulnerability to rising sea levels and powerful storms has become a ground zero for climate. Living here has shaped my work in environmental justice, law, and technology, as I see the urgency of creating solutions that address the immediate needs of communities on the frontlines of climate change.
Which issue(s) do you work on/care about, and why?
My work spans environmental justice, AI, law, and human rights, all of which intersect in critical ways. I care deeply about addressing the disparities in how environmental crises impact marginalized communities. Whether through legal advocacy, technological innovation, or community organizing, I focus on creating systems that protect the most vulnerable from the worst impacts of climate change. Environmental defenders are a key part of this work because they risk their lives to protect their lands and rights, facing persecution and criminalization for standing up to powerful interests. I write in Common Dreams about the concept of Climate Cages: What US Should Remember from Slavery and Colonialism in Devising Climate Strategy.
One of my passions is integrating AI and technology into environmental justice work. With my doctoral work on “Democratizing Climate Evacuation Readiness: A Collaborative Approach to Operationalizing AI, Citizen Science, and Geospatial Data for Multi-Hazard Resilience” at the Yale School of the Environment, I am working to develop tools that can help communities better prepare for and respond to natural disasters, using predictive models and real-time data to inform evacuation plans and disaster recovery efforts. This research is about empowering people and making sure that those who are overlooked in disaster response efforts, like low-income communities and communities of color, have the resources they need to survive..
Another issue I care deeply about is the double standard Muslim women face, particularly in the context of free speech and human rights advocacy both among our community and outside of it. I’ve seen how Muslim voices are marginalized or silenced, and this is something I actively fight against in my work.
At the 2024 Democratic National Convention, I was physically attacked by three men for holding a sign that said “Stop Arming Israel” and suffered a concussion. The experience and subsequent response underscored the deep-rooted biases that persist even in spaces that claim to champion human rights as I wrote about in Inside Higher Education on How DEI initiatives on Islamophobia Fall Short. The radio silence from the Democratic Party, academic colleagues, and legal advocates was stunning after the widespread media coverage in over 40 media outlets from Newsweek to Democracy Now. People didn’t even bother to check in, because they have also been okay with protecting power in the face of a genocide in Gaza and mass arrests on college campuses. The response to the incident reaffirmed my commitment to challenging the systemic inequities as I wrote in Al-Jazeera that Silencing us at the DNC will only make us stronger.
How did you get involved?
I became involved in this work because I couldn’t ignore the glaring disparities in how environmental and human rights issues were being addressed. I’ve seen how marginalized communities, especially Muslim communities, are left out of critical conversations about climate resilience, disaster recovery, and human rights. My own experiences with hurricanes, like Ian and recently Helene, showed me that these crises are global issues, but they’re also deeply personal. When your house is damaged, your community is underwater, and it takes months to rebuild, you understand that the impact of these disasters lingers long after the news coverage ends.
My work began in journalism, then law, and now academia, where I focused on environmental justice and holding corporations and governments accountable for their role in environmental degradation. I spoke about climate justice, abolition, and being in Teen People magazine on a recent podcast with librarian Anna Soper. Just as we started recording a fighter jet was heard flying over her for a training exercise where she was located in Canada near a military base. It was a sound effect we had not planned, but brought in focus the immediacy of the issues we were discussing.
The wars over oil that I witnessed on TV as a child and then the escalating violence I saw in the Middle East during my study abroad following the Second Intifada in 2000 gave me a unique vantage point on human rights and the lack of justice or legal accountability. I saw the double standards applied to Muslims, particularly Muslim women, in public and political spaces. After September 11, those challenges became more acute. I founded an organization after 9/11 called Students for International Peace and Justice to educate our Arab, Muslim, and South Asian communities about civil rights and social justice. After the U.S. Patriot Act was enacted on October 26, 2001, I saw community support dwindle to the point it became non-existent because of the politics of fear.
It would take months and decades for these marginalized communities to dig themselves out of the infringements on civil liberties as the War on Terror raced full steam ahead. Instead I focused my efforts in academia and writing to edit the first Muslim anthology in response to 9/11 called, Unveiling the Real Terrorist Mind.
What’s the biggest challenge for the issue(s) today?
The biggest challenge is the systemic inertia that allows inequality to persist. In Congress, environmental justice is discussed but rarely acted upon with the urgency it deserves. Political will is limited, and corporate interests hold immense sway over legislation. For example, while there are initiatives to combat climate change, many of them fail to address the immediate needs of communities that are already facing its worst impacts. This is particularly true in Florida, where hurricane recovery efforts are slow and uneven, leaving vulnerable communities to fend for themselves.
Another challenge is the misuse of AI and technology. While these tools have incredible potential for good, they can also be used to deepen existing inequalities. Surveillance technologies are disproportionately deployed in marginalized communities under the guise of environmental protection.
There is also a significant challenge in the way Muslims, particularly Muslim women, are treated in advocacy spaces. The double standards are exhausting, and the pressure to make myself small so that others feel comfortable is a constant struggle. I am tired of being expected to tone down my passion or dilute my message for the sake of others’ comfort. I care deeply about the world I will leave for my children, and I refuse to shrink my voice for the sake of maintaining the status quo. I share my experiences as a law student at the University of Florida and as parent during the pandemic in the FIU Law Review in “Blood, Sweat, Tears:” A Muslim Woman Law Professor’s View on Degenerative Racism, Misogyny, and (Internal) Islamophobia from Preeclampsia and Presumed Incompetent to Pandemic Tenure.
Who are your most frequent allies? Any surprises?
My allies are diverse, spanning from grassroots environmental defenders to AI developers, human rights lawyers, and progressive members of Congress. One of the most surprising alliances I’ve formed is with technologists who are eager to apply AI to social good but are disconnected from the advocacy world. By bringing these two communities together, we’ve been able to create tools that have the potential to transform disaster response efforts.
I’ve also found unexpected allies in Congress, particularly among the progressive wing that is pushing for systemic change in how we address climate justice. These lawmakers understand that environmental justice is not just about protecting the planet but about protecting people, especially those who are most vulnerable. While we still have a long way to go, these alliances are critical in pushing forward legislation that can have a real impact.
What drives you?
The belief that real, systemic change is possible if we approach problems with a holistic, systems-thinking mindset. I’m motivated by the need to create systems —whether legal, technological, or political — that work for everyone, not just the privileged few. Systems thinking allows me to see the bigger picture and understand how seemingly disconnected issues — like climate change, AI, and human rights — are actually deeply intertwined.
The biggest driving force for me is my children. I care deeply about the world I will leave behind for them, and that means fighting for a future where they won’t have to make themselves small to be heard.
In 2016, my advocacy took on a deeply personal dimension. Amid escalating fears over Donald Trump’s policies targeting vulnerable communities, I made the decision to have my third child. The atmosphere was tense, and I worried that Trump’s administration might place individuals, especially Muslims, in detention facilities. I thought that pregnancy might offer me some level of protection as part of a “protected class,” shielding me and my family from potential detention.
Yet just a year later, in November 2017, I found myself in Washington, D.C., walking the hallways of Capitol Hill to lobby for environmental justice. Alongside Scott Badenoch, we had advocated for the American Bar Association (ABA) to support the Environmental Justice Act — a cause underscored by the devastation of recent hurricanes. On the same day that the Senate debated and voted on Trump’s tax bill, we were there, against the odds, working for environmental reform. That moment, surreal as it was, helped lay the groundwork for the ABA’s eventual support of the United Nations' Right to a Healthy Environment in 2021, which was part the Global Coalition of Civil Society, Indigenous Peoples, Social Movements, and Local Communities for the Universal Recognition of the Human Right to a Clean, Healthy, and Sustainable Environment awarded the 2023 UN Human Rights Prize.
Fast forward to 2023, I had the honor of representing the ABA at the Climate COP 28 in Dubai. As a former Kerry Fellow at Yale’s Jackson School, I carry John Kerry’s words closely: “We are all climate lawyers.” This sentiment drives my work and belief that those of us in the legal profession bear a unique responsibility to champion climate justice as well as critique climate action when it falls short as I wrote about how carbon emissions from the world’s militaries directly threaten the planet’s future.
What do you want your career/advocacy to stand for?
Systemic change. Change that is both deep and lasting. I want to be known for creating solutions that not only address environmental justice but also challenge the broader inequalities that exist in our legal and political systems. Whether it’s through my work with AI and disaster response, my advocacy for free speech, or my legal battles on behalf of environmental defenders, I hope to leave a legacy of empowerment for communities excluded from the conversation and victims of U.S. empire as a I write about in the Fordham Urban Law Journal in The Cliodynamics of Mass Incarceration, Climate Change, and “Chains on Our Feet”.
I also want my work to be a voice against the double standards in human rights spaces. I hope that by speaking out, I can create more inclusive advocacy spaces where everyone is heard, not just those who fit into the narrow definitions of what’s acceptable in these discussions. I want my career to stand for justice in all its forms — environmental, social, and political — and for leaving behind a world where my children and future generations can thrive without having to fight to be seen.