In this op-ed, Agnes M. Torres Rivera explains how those forced to leave Puerto Rico after Hurricane Maria hit are climate change refugees. Agnes is a graduate student from the University of Puerto Rico who currently lives in Hartford, Connecticut, where she is attending Trinity College while she completes her thesis after being displaced by the hurricane in 2017.

Hurricane Maria changed my life overnight. The chaos and destruction of the storm, which made landfall on the island as a Category 4 storm in September 2017, changed the lives of millions of Puerto Ricans who call the island home. It forced thousands of people like myself to flee home and build a new life on the United States mainland. Upwards of 2,200 Puerto Ricans have been displaced to Connecticut post-Maria alone, including more than 1,800 children.

I left Puerto Rico in January to study as a visiting student at Trinity College in Hartford. After the hurricane, working towards my master’s degree in Puerto Rico was a challenge because the electricity and internet were not reliable. Coupled with the economic crisis that Puerto Rico is facing, living on the island seemed impossible.

Since arriving in Hartford, I’ve connected with local organizations like Chispa Connecticut, an organizing program of the League of Conservation Voters, to meet with other displaced Puerto Ricans and plan the next steps in our lives. In doing so, I’ve realized that every person I’ve met who was forced to relocate has a similar story to share: of bravery and persistence, yes, but also of a forever-altered landscape and of communities, like mine, that are being torn apart by climate change.

When the hurricane hit the island, Yara Vazquez — who I met at a vigil for Puerto Ricans at the downtown Red Roof Inn in Hartford — was alone with her three daughters. After a levy in her town of Toa Baja broke, water began rising in her house. She grabbed her pets and children and found herself stranded on top of her car. At one point, she waited in a truck with her daughters for three whole days before a rescue team came to save them. Food was scarce, and it was two months before she and her family came to safety on the U.S. mainland.

Another hard-hit coastal area was Fajardo, where Merelys Torres is from. Merelys told me that she and her family survived Maria by climbing to the second floor of her mother’s house and holding on as the hurricane lashed outside the window, leveling their neighborhood. This wasn’t the first time she had noticed the environment altering her home, however. Local fishermen reported they had slowly seen the fish that supplied their livelihood and sustenance become scarcer, while each year hurricanes got stronger and more unpredictable. Merelys says she can no longer ignore the threats of climate change and believes only bold action will preserve her community’s way of life.

There are thousands more Puerto Ricans who have stories just like these. The record-breaking rainfall, flooding, and destruction driven by Hurricane Maria — not to mention Hurricanes Harvey and Irma — is what climate change looks like. And, as sea levels continue to rise and air and water temperatures continue to warm, these storms are likely to worsen. Hurricane Maria showed us that we can’t afford to wait another day to fight back. We are climate change refugees, and our collective stories serve as a cautionary tale that government officials need to hear.