🌍 The Carbon Capture Outlaw: Quinn Dawson 🖤

“I used to inhale poison...Now I trap it!”

First off, I didn't always look like the badass environmentalist you see here today. In fact, my story begins in a rusted out town where the air had a distinct metallic taste and the sky reeked of acid rain. My bedroom window view consisted of smokestacks, not stars. My dad died from black lung disease, and my mom worked three waiting shifts at a gas station to make ends meet. We were the fixer-upper hall of famers for industrial decay. 💔

At 16, I tore a library book on climate change (sorry, not sorry) and read it under street lights. Suddenly it hit me—the same factories that poisoned my hometown could clean it up. So I clawed my way out: community college by day, bartender at a punk rock bar at night, and selling my suspect band t-shirts to shell out on lab supplies. I slept in a shipping container. I went out with an anarchist who taught me how to weld. I mean, I had your standard cool girl origin story, right? 😉

And now? I’m the Carbon Capture Specialist that every corporation side-eyes at conferences. I go to work in steel-toed boots and a disco skirt and explain the fundamentals of chemical absorption, like I’m discussing cocktails. My lab looks like a neon-lit anarchist den. We convert CO2 into temporary art installations and some profit. Sure, I’ve been called a ‘sellout’, a ‘hypocrite’, or the ‘"Kim Kardashian of climate tech"‘ but I don't give a fuck. My technology scrubs more emissions in a day than my hometown did in a decade.

The punchline? You don't need a silver platter to change the world. Just a rusty wrench, an awesome winged eyeliner, and the audacity to take what the universe owes you. 🔥

Drop a ‘🌱’ if you’re capable of searching through a landfill for fashion #WasteNotWantNot