Media For The People
Amirio Freeman In Conversation With Shilpi Chhotray
Pictured: Shilpi Chhotray (far right) hosting a conversation at the Hip Hop for Change 6th Environmental Justice Summit. Photography by Sarah Arnold.
Ping. Ping. Ping. While waiting to virtually chat with Shilpi Chhotray, Co-Founder and President of Counterstream Media, my phone was abuzz with news notifications alerting me to the latest devastation impacting our global community: more news of continuing genocide, more news of climate crisis, more news of spreading fascism.
When looking at our traditional media institutions—legacy newsrooms, long-standing magazines—one would think that the defining and only narrative of our times is one of total collapse. As communities on the frontlines of environmental justice and other allied movements continue to rewrite the story of our people and planet, what new narratives to challenge, mobilize, and inspire can we uplift right now? Shilpi and the Counterstream team are part of a new era of media makers answering that question.
With Shilpi calling in from Oakland, California, and me clocking in from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, we chatted online for Peace & Riot to discuss the need for greater investment in narrative justice and how to partner with communities in reciprocal acts of story-sharing to uncover strategies for creating media for a world fated for more than disaster.
AMIRIO FREEMAN: When it comes to Counterstream Media and the broader environmental justice movement, there's a recognition that stories are powerful. They’re embedded in our policies, they help us make sense of the world, and they can mobilize the masses to imagine realities beyond this one. So I'm wondering for you, at this ‘hour on the world's clock’—to borrow from the amazing activist Grace Lee Boggs—what stories do we need, and what do we need those stories to specifically do at this moment?
SHILPI CHHOTRAY: Oh, I just got chills! I love that quote.
Counterstream believes storytelling is both an act of truth telling and imagination. With Peace & Riot in particular, we’re interested in telling stories that recognize that sometimes peace is necessary—and sometimes rioting is necessary—in the fight for justice. And when we consider this current moment, Peace & Riot couldn't be more relevant. This project was born out of the understanding that dissent and disobedience are part of a long lineage of movements led by our ancestors.
So to go back to this idea of what stories we need right now, I think it’s critical to expose environmental harms that are rooted in extractive systems by intentionally uplifting stories that center resilience, care, and visionary solutions.
To that end, every one of our media projects at Counterstream aims to uplift community-led solutions. Whether it's Indigenous economies, mutual aid networks, or artistic expressions of resistance, we seek to illuminate pathways towards the future.
Pictured: Poet Sunni Patterson speaking at a Counterstream Story Salon: Honoring Black Women in Environmental Justice during Essence Festival.
AMIRIO FREEMAN: I really appreciate this idea of ancestry, of lineage. I’m curious for you, and for Counterstream, who would you consider to be your narrative elders, so to speak? What are those publications and platforms, media makers from the past, maybe, who presaged the work of Counterstream?
SHILPI CHHOTRAY: One of my biggest inspirations in this narrative work comes from my Indigenous colleagues and friends—people I've been very, very lucky to work with in my advocacy work. Thanks to them, I've learned a lot about applying the concept of reciprocity to our work at Counterstream and beyond. Storytelling is so innate to the work that they do and the reciprocal relationships that they nurture with land.
Pictured: Casey Camp-Horinek opens with prayer at the Hip Hop for Change 6th Environmental Justice Summit. Photography by Sarah Arnold.
As a mother, these values have also shaped incredible moments I've had with my son. Since having my second child, I’ve been reflecting even more on what it means to hold history and cultivate care in sharing stories across generations. Also, I’m Indian, and the roots of cultural identity—of holding each other from generation to generation— have deeply shaped how I think about sharing stories. It’s not just about documenting; it’s about honoring and carrying forward wisdom in a way that strengthens community.
On that note, there are several media platforms in particular that really inspire me. One of them is Prism, which is a nonprofit newsroom led by journalists of color. We’ve had the absolute privilege of working with them for Season 3 of our People over Plastic podcast, and they truly take a very courageous stance when it comes to social, racial and environmental justice. I also love Loam and Hammer & Hope, and I think Capital B is amazing. We need more of these platforms to not only be funded and out in the world, but also working together.
AMIRIO FREEMAN: I love that, and I want to touch on something you mentioned earlier in your response on how so much of Indigenous storytelling really centers reciprocity. When I look at Counterstream, I can sense not only that there's reciprocity embedded in the stories that this platform is telling, but also that there’s reciprocity deeply embedded in how Counterstream approaches storytelling. One of the things that I appreciate so much about Counterstream is that there's such a deep commitment to producing media that foregrounds the experiences of communities on the frontlines.
That said, I can name so many examples of media makers working with frontline communities in a way that creates more harm either because certain tropes are being reproduced or because the process of working with these communities feels extractive rather than relational.
Given that, can you talk a little bit more about how your team approaches collaborating with frontline communities, especially in ways that build trust and share power? What does that commitment look like on a very practical level? And why is that important to your philosophical approach at Counterstream?
SHILPI CHHOTRAY: This is such an important question.
Counterstream was born out of a response to the failures of mainstream media. So often, mainstream media sensationalizes and misinterprets the actions of frontline communities, of Black and Brown and Indigenous communities, and of movement organizers particularly in the Global South. Mainstream media often reinforces dominant power struggles by amplifying state narratives while sidelining the voices of those impacted by injustice.
“We definitely don’t see ourselves at Counterstream as storytellers. We approach storytelling as story sharing.”
This is nothing new, and we're seeing it in real time. There is criminalization of protest, the erasure of Palestinian liberation struggles, and the watering down of environmental justice movements. So independent media—like Counterstream, like Prism, like Loam—we have a responsibility to counter those narratives by creating space for truth telling.
A couple of things: we definitely don't see ourselves at Counterstream as storytellers. We approach storytelling as story sharing.
And what that means, very practically speaking, is that our work centers the agency of the people whose stories we’re amplifying. We believe it is critical that communities tell their own stories on their own terms.
Pictured: Chris Tandazo, Thalia Cachimuel, Kizzy Charles-Guzman, and Michael McKenzie discuss “dissent” at Counterstream’s Story Salon at NYC Climate Week. Photography by Chess Jakobs for Counterstream.
AMIRIO FREEMAN: What I appreciate so much about this approach is that it requires experimentation and iteration—which is a very relational practice. I love this idea of Counterstream being a laboratory for imagining how media can shift from storytelling to story sharing. Yes, sometimes mistakes are made, there are failings, but that’s part of any co-creative process. So, I’d like to learn, what mistakes have you made? And what have you learned along the way that feels resonant to bring up in this context?
SHILPI CHHOTRAY: Such a good question, Amirio! I think it's important to share challenges along the way and failings, right? We're all human, and it happens.
The biggest struggle that I've had personally is how to navigate this balance between our autonomy as a media organization and experimentation. As a team, we are not risk adverse: we've got this right side, left side brain thing going on, which is great. But I think there still is that struggle because we know the status quo is failing, and also we need to work within and outside of the system to effect change. How do we stay accountable to the communities that we serve and sustain salaries? Institutional partnerships can offer resources such as amplification and financial support but they also impose top -down agendas.
It's something we take very seriously in terms of vetting partnerships, because we don't want our values of narrative justice being watered down. At the same time, we believe frontline communities and movement organizers deserve better. They deserve better infrastructure to tell their own stories. And we shouldn't have to choose between autonomy and sustaining our organizations. So when we talk about lessons learned, at this point, we do turn down quite a number of opportunities. But even though that might mean slower growth, we will never compromise our values and our relationships for short-term financial gain.
AMIRIO FREEMAN: I really appreciate you speaking to the realities of being a media maker at this moment. From the advent of AI to the fall of legacy institutions, we’re really in a place of collapse.
Within that, however, there's so many possibilities. Given that, what is your take on the state of our media ecosystem, and what big opportunities, if any, exist?
SHILPI CHHOTRAY: It’s tricky. I've been very involved in the Palestinian liberation movement, and in so many ways, seeing how mainstream media has responded has been a massive wake up call on how media really operates. The scale of censorship is devastating. We’re seeing legacy media channels getting funding from corporations, AIPAC (American Israel Public Affairs Committee) influencing what stories are shared, and billionaire lobbyists shaping the narrative.
“Whether it’s the movement for climate justice, Palestinian solidarity, or abolition, these are spaces that are being framed as dangerous or illegitimate. And the current media landscape is a massive reason for why this is happening.”
So, we are in an era where narrative justice should be a part of every media platform's ethos, because it is a form of resistance. Whether it’s the movement for climate justice, Palestinian solidarity, or abolition, these are spaces that are being framed as dangerous or illegitimate. And the current media landscape is a massive reason for why this is happening.
Pictured: Cover art for Counterstream’s People over Plastic Podcast.
At Counterstream, our job is to continue to amplify the voices being silenced and to challenge those manufactured narratives that uphold systems of harm. As an example, I want to mention our recent podcast episode on protest with Candice Fortin, who is a dear friend as well as movement organizer for 350. This conversation really underscores how justice-focused organizers and frontline communities are finding creative ways to resist despite increasing repression, and I really encourage everyone to tune into this episode, because we talk a lot about the role of narrative justice in this particular moment.
“Protest” is our most listened to episode ever. We’re not competing with Fox News, not yet, but there is an appetite for this kind of story sharing, which gives me hope.
AMIRIO FREEMAN: I’m so inspired by what you're saying. I want to talk now about strategy, especially given how many legacy media organizations are practicing anticipatory obedience. What is Counterstream doing to prepare for increased crackdowns?
SHILPI CHHOTRAY: At our core, Counterstream is about prioritizing deep relationships over rapid growth. About centering voices from the margins, not the mainstream. About meeting the moment where it's at. That means our strategy isn’t just about funding but also who we're accountable to, which is the very dedicated frontline leaders and movement builders that are on the ground doing the work. And so one of the things we strive to do is to collaborate with other grassroots projects and share resources where we can. The more we can build in solidarity, the more we can challenge extractive media models that pit us against each other. And I believe that these kinds of partnerships in particular are going to help us sustain independent media.
AMIRIO FREEMAN: I’m going to dig into what will make that possible by couching this question in a request to define what narrative justice means for you. I've heard you bring up that term before, and I want to really define it, because it’s such an essential front that we should be fighting on.
So: how are you defining narrative justice? And how do you think we can facilitate deeper investment in spaces that center narrative justice?
SHILPI CHHOTRAY: I don't want to speak for Counterstream, but for me, if you were to ask me what is narrative justice? I would say that it is all about shifting power: who gets to tell stories, whose voices are heard and how communities are represented. How do we disrupt dominant narratives that uphold systems of harm? How do we make space for historically excluded communities to define their own realities?
Pictured from left to right: Wawa Gatheru, Roishetta Sibley Ozane, Dr. Joy Banner, Jo Banner, and Shamyra Lavigne at Counterstream’s Story Salon in New Orleans.
“So, when we center the voices of those most impacted, we’re not just sharing these different stories, we’re actively redistributing power.”
When we founded Counterstream, the framework of narrative justice was one way of communicating that storytelling isn't just about exposure, but also agency, dignity, truth telling. More and more, I'm seeing the value of a platform like Counterstream to expand on narrative justice as a tool for liberation. It's not just about who holds the mic, but who controls the entire platform. And anyone that tells you storytelling is not political doesn't understand the essence of narrative justice. So, when we center the voices of those most impacted, we're not just sharing these different stories, we're actively redistributing power.
AMIRIO FREEMAN: A question that keeps coming up for me is around the ways in which language is co-opted. It’s something that Naomi Klein wrote about in Doppleganger, about how so much of the language that originated on the margins has been co-opted by corporations and conservatives.
How does Counterstream stay nimble when it comes to language in a moment when so many words have lost their potency? It’s hard to get across the urgency and devastation of climate change, for example, when the language of catastrophe is used frequently enough that it’s considered normal, even mundane. In the face of that, how do you maintain the usefulness and utility of words?
SHILPI CHHOTRAY: Oh my god, yeah! This is an issue…
So I’m going to answer this in two ways.
Firstly, this is very personal to me. I'm Indian American, and I feel like our entire culture has been commodified. The things that I used to be made fun of for as a little girl are now being sold and marketed by white folks, you know?
It doesn't make it any easier, but living through this ongoing experience of co-option has forced me to constantly reclaim my heritage and be proud of where I come from.
“Words like equity, sustainability, and even environmental justice are often stripped of their radical roots and repackaged for performative allyship. So I think we have to constantly call it out. ”
And I think that's where stories come in, too. At Counterstream, our language is always evolving. We’ve seen how corporations, institutions, and even bad faith actors can co-opt the language of justice while still maintaining harmful systems. We had this amazing conversation on our podcast with indigenous scholar Dr. PennElys Droz from NDN Collective about land acknowledgement. And it was like, land acknowledgments are a small step, but we have to do so much more dedicated, disciplined work if we are truly going to end extractive, harmful practices. Articulation or acknowledgement alone is not the terminus point.
Words like equity, sustainability, and even environmental justice are often stripped of their radical roots and repackaged for performative allyship. So I think we have to constantly call it out.
Ultimately, we stay nimble by staying in conversation with frontline communities and movement organizers. Those are the folks that are actively shaping these movements, not just branding them. Prioritizing lived experience over buzzwords is critical to this process. And, we also have to recognize that movements evolve, language evolves, and storytelling mechanisms evolve. So, we resist co -optation by staying rooted in our relationships.
AMIRIO FREEMAN: This is hitting for me! As you were sharing, I was thinking about you as a mother, about your kids, and the media narratives that they'll have to confront. What are the narratives that you hope your children will grow up internalizing? And how are you preparing them to be media literate—to connect to narratives in a way that's deeply rooted, not in co -optation or injustice, but relationality?
SHILPI CHHOTRAY: I love that question.
I'm very intentional with the stories that we share with our kids, especially my four year old. He goes to protests with me and mutual aid events in Oakland as well, and I haven't shied away from taking him to these events, because these moments are really important, not just to me, but to our family and our community. And it's great because there's always like -minded parents that have their little ones come to these events too. He also routinely asks to borrow my keffiyeh, so I couldn't be more proud.
All to say, I think it's important to expose children to values of environmental justice from a young age, because it's gonna shape them into truly empathetic and caring humans. And we need more of that! I think it's part of our role as climate defenders to raise the next generation with these values. So to your question, what kind of world do I want my boys to inherit? One where care is the organizing principle, not extraction. And I'm really grateful that I have a community, friends, colleagues, who feel the exact same way.
AMIRIO FREEMAN: I want to extend this conversation on future horizons to what’s next for Counterstream. As this platform continues to shift and grow, what possibilities are you most excited to cultivate at this intersection of EJ media and movement building?
SHILPI CHHOTRAY: You know, even just reflecting from our conversation here, I think that the lines between media and movement are blurring. And I'm actually really excited about that. If you were to ask someone from legacy media, this shift would likely be terrifying for them, because it strips their power, right?
Pictured: On a Counterstream Solidarity Ride, Jericho, a youth urban farmer from the Food Literacy Project details the harms caused by Rubbertown while also underscoring the solutions she and youth farmers are bringing to food insecure communities in Louisville, Kentucky. Photography by Jon Cherry for Counterstream.
From “A River of Deception” in The Margin’s Fall 2024 issue. Pictured: Scott Schuyler, Upper Skagit Tribe, holding an ancestral paddle. Photography by Chona Kasinger for The Margin.
But we want the media to look really, really different, and it's starting to get there. Projects like Peace & Riot are carving out space for imagination, art, and emotional truth to exist alongside political analysis. We’re also proud to house Solidarity Rides —experiences led by Environmental Justice leaders who come together as allies on a bus and share solutions for the environmental injustices in their communities—as well as The Margin—an independent non-profit publication that combines in-depth reporting with data analysis and visualizations, which makes it a really dynamic tool for understanding EJ.
The experience of supporting the production of the Margin in particular was a reminder that if we're serious about reshaping the media landscape, we need to disrupt the scarcity mindset that mainstream media operates within. We need to link arms across different projects and build narrative power for entire movements.
The ultimate dream is to build an ecosystem where community media projects can thrive without having to compromise their values, and can build momentum through solidarity. And I see Counterstream as an incubator for that.
Amirio Freeman (any pronouns) is a writer, interviewer, and audio storyteller who explores the relationship between humans and our beyond-human kin through a Black, queer lens. Amirio’s writing has been published in Broccoli Magazine, It’s Freezing in LA!, and Are.na Annual, among other publications. In partnership with Loam, they hosted the Loam Listen podcast from 2020-2022 as well as developed the Down to Earth Deck. Amirio is from coastal Virginia and currently resides in Philadelphia, PA, where they write their newsletter, PLANTCRAFT.
Shilpi Chhotray (she/her) is the Co-Founder and President of Counterstream Media and the creator and host of the People over Plastic podcast. With over a decade of experience in environmental policy, strategic communications, and grassroots organizing, she regularly engages with the media on topics related to plastic pollution, climate justice, and the importance of intersectional storytelling. Her commentary has been featured in Rolling Stone, NPR, Al Jazeera, and BBC, and she frequently collaborates with environmental justice organizations worldwide to amplify resistance movements.