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Environmental Policymaker by Day, Climate Artist by Night

A Q&A with Ranjani Prabhakar


Q: Some may know you as an environmental policy leader, but you are also a musician, director, founder, and much more. What was your journey like embracing so many sides of yourself, and has anyone ever told you to โ€œpick oneโ€?

A: For a long time, I kept the creative and advocacy sides of my life in separate lanes. By day, I was knee-deep in environmental policy workโ€”fighting for stronger safeguards for healthier communities. By night, I was making music with my band Lil Idli. I treated them as parallel tracks, believing they served different purposes in my life.

But over time, I realized they were always speaking to each other. The music I was writingโ€”songs about displacement, longing, reciprocityโ€”was clearly shaped by the same issues I was confronting in my day job. And in turn, the emotional release I found through art helped me process the heaviness of my advocacy work. I saw that the stories I told through art could move people in ways that policy briefs never could, though both have their moments. Through music, film, and now theater, Iโ€™ve found a way to express the human stakes of the climate crisis in a visceral, emotional way.

Q: Also, congratulations! The play you directed, Come Along for the Ride: A Journey through Climate Grief, is having a second run in Washington, DC, on April 5 and 6. Could you tell us more about the story this play tells and your experience directing it?

A: Iโ€™m so excited for the second run of Come Along for the Ride: A Journey through Climate Grief. The play is Rozina Kanchwala’s second theatrical release as a playwright, and she explores the emotional landscape of living through the climate crisisโ€”something we often experience in fragmented ways but rarely get to confront collectively. It follows two friends, one on a road trip to see the other, grappling with their own anxieties and futures amidst the omens of climate dystopia. Along the way, theyโ€™re forced to confront both the losses theyโ€™ve already endured and the uncertainty of whatโ€™s to come together.

Directing this play has been a deeply personal and transformative experience. Itโ€™s my first time directing for theater, and I was drawn to the challenge of making climate grief feel tangible and relatable in a different medium. Kanchwala leans into raw, human momentsโ€”awkward silences, bursts of humor, and vulnerable confessionsโ€”to capture the messy, nonlinear nature of grief. I wanted to capture that in its full essence. I worked closely with the cast, many of whom are environmental advocates as well, to make sure the characters felt authentic, often drawing from real conversations they’ve had about justice issues that feel both massive and intimate; and with our amazing crew, who helped bring the set to life.

Whatโ€™s been most rewarding is seeing how audiences connect with it. After the first run, people told me they saw themselves in the charactersโ€”in the grief, but also in the moments of defiant joy. Thatโ€™s what makes this second run in DC so meaningful. Itโ€™s another chance to invite people into a shared space where they can sit with the complexity of grief, and hopefully, leave feeling a little less alone in it.

Q: You co-founded Flame Lily Media, which aims to shift our conversations about climate change and our relationship with the planet through art. What drove you to create this organization?

A: Flame Lily Media was born out of a desire to tell stories about climate and justice in a more human, emotionally resonant way, especially when the stakes are deeply personal. I was inspired by artists doing the same.

Since 2020, I have been making music with Lil Idli and composing for film projectsโ€”exploring themes of migration, displacement, and belonging. I started to see that art could express the emotional truths that were as necessary to our ecological movement as the contributions of my “day job.” That realization is what drove me to co-found Flame Lily Media with my partner Deepak Gopinath. We help produce and curate projects, provide consulting to other artists, and conduct workshops on the intersection of art and the environment for universities and non-profits. We wanted to create a space where various artistic media – whether it be music, fiction writing, film, or live theater – could tell nuanced, personal stories about our relationship to the planetโ€”stories that connect with people on a gut level.

Beyond producing creative work, Flame Lily also aims to be part of a broader conversation about the role of art in the climate movement. We want to continue engaging in speaking, education, and thought leadership on why creativity is essential in advocacyโ€”how it can bypass polarization, make complex issues accessible, and move people emotionally in ways data and policy arguments alone cannot. Whether through live performances, workshops, or plays like Come Along for the Ride, our goal is to use art to shift the way people see the climate crisis: not as something far away or inevitable, but as something intimate, urgent, and worth resisting.

Q: We are expecting some challenges in the environmental sector, what support do you need to keep doing the work you do?

A: I think we need to have coalitions with staying powerโ€”groups that can be nimble to attacks but also proactive in shaping a long-term, justice-centered vision. The more we can collaborate across movementsโ€”environmental, public health, labor, and civil rightsโ€”the stronger weโ€™ll be.ย On the creative side, we need platforms and partnerships that center art as a tool for advocacy. Whether through theater, music, or storytelling, I want to keep creating work that makes our relationships to nature and our ecology feel immediate and personal. That means opportunities for performance residencies, touring, and working alongside environmental organizations on outreach or production goals. Ultimately, we’re all looking for the same thing: people power. Audiences and allies who are willing to show up, engage, and carry these stories forward. Whether itโ€™s in a theater seat, a drum circle, a protest…the work is only as strong as the people moved by it.

Q: To anyone who wants to become a climate artist, what message do you have for them?

A: My message would be: trust that your art is enough. In the environmental space, itโ€™s easy to feel like you have to be an issue expert to have credibility. But the truth is, your perspective, your emotions, and your lived experience are powerful forms of knowledge. Donโ€™t feel pressured to make your art sound like a white paper. In fact, the raw, emotional honesty of your work is what will cut through the noise.

Iโ€™d also say: let yourself be human first. That’s what artists are best at. The intersecting justice crises we’re living through are heavy, and itโ€™s tempting to center your work around the urgency or the outrage. But donโ€™t forget the tenderness, the humor, the messinessโ€”the things that make people feel connected to each other. I love the quote, โ€œWe donโ€™t mourn the cracks of empire. We plant seeds in them.โ€ All of us have the innate ability to dream and create, and what better skills to call upon right now.


The play directed by Ranjani Prabhakar, Come Along for the Ride: A Journey through Climate Grief, is currently sold out in Washington, DC for April 5th and April 6th. If you are interested in attending and getting tickets as they become available, please sign up for the waitlist here. Tickets for the play’s Chicago run from June 26-June 29 are currently available here. Grab them while you still can!

The views and opinions expressed in the blog post are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Green 2.0.