Young people in island nations face an existential question: Should they stay or should they go?

UNITED NATIONS (AP) — It's the uncomfortable talk that as a young woman, she knows she should have with her parents. They alluded to it, once, but couldn't quite address it directly. And Grace Malie was glad to avoid the subject with them, though she and her friends do discuss it.

As her home, the tiny but shrinking island of Tuvalu, slowly erodes from climate change's rising seas, should she rough it out on the remaining high land? Or should she flee her home, her culture, her heritage and her past to go to Australia — in what her government negotiated as “Plan B?”

The 25-year-old, who on Wednesday addresses a special U.N. General Assembly summit on sea level rise as a representative for her country, has years to decide — decades, even. But it's a decision that, like the mythical sword of Damocles, hangs over a nation's entire generation. And two of the biggest issues facing the summit are what to do about people like Grace Malie and how countries like Tuvalu will keep the sovereignty even when they lose their land.

“This is not about leaving," said Kamal Amakrane, managing director of the Global Center for Climate Mobility and climate envoy to the president of the General Assembly. “This is not about giving up. This is not about giving in. This is about agency."

Such a situation is like no other. It can't be compared to when other climate, conflict or economic refugees have to flee with little or no notice as storms hit or drought takes away livelihoods, said Alex Randall, the United Kingdom-based coordinator of the Climate and Migration Coalition.

The vast majority people permanently fleeing climate-related disasters stay within their own country and travel short distances — such as those who left New Orleans after 2005's Hurricane Katrina. This is about young people today making a long-term, stay-or-go decision that lingers in the back of their minds. It's a conversation that's happening now, even though the fleeing won't happen until later.

“It’s a very difficult conversation, very emotional,” Malie said in an interview. “And it’s 50-50. Some of us wish to stay. Some of them, because they have families,” will probably head to Australia.

And that's what Malie thinks will be her own future. If she has children, she would think about “the life of my children. I would have to opt for Plan B. Worst comes to worst, relocate.”

“I want them to have a safe and to have access to quality living, access to quality water, quality life. And in order for me to have that for them to have that, relocation is an option,” she said. “But if I were to live by myself, you know, no children in the future as planned, then I would choose to stay.”

Her parents wouldn't come right out and say it, but they have dropped hints that she should think about going to Australia, Malie said. She said they want what's best for her.

Tuvalu Climate Minister Maina Talia has had the same discomfort but from the father’s point of view. He said he talked to his four young children about the inexorable threat of sea-level rise on their home and future, but he has not yet quite raised the idea of leaving the island to them.

Talia said he fears that if his children leave Tuvalu for higher ground, “their identity would be compromised.”

“It’s not an easy conversation because I want my kids to grow up the way I grew up,’’ Talia said. “It’s an emotional thing to go through.”

Talia calls sea-level rise “an existential threat.” And it's those two words — "existential threat'' — that are at the heart of Wednesday's summit.

“The existential threat that we face is not of our making, but it will remake us,” Tuvalu's prime minister, Feleti Teo, told the U.N. summit Wednesday. He said the voices of nearly 1 billion people in low-lying nations must be heard. “Heritage is lost, and the very fabric of our nations become increasingly threatened.”

For years, small island nations have used that phrase, as have leaders of the United Nations and climate activists. But now it's coming back to bite them because island nations want their sovereignty, their culture, to exist — even if their land does not.

“We’ve been trying really hard to as (the Alliance of Small Island States) to move away from that concept of existential threat given the fact that if we say that that means, does that mean that the State no longer exists? The people no longer exist? And that’s not the case," said Michai Robertson, an advisor to the small island states' alliance.

Belize Prime Minister John Briceño said: "Sovereignty is defined by the will of the people, not by the whims of climate change. Once a state is established, it will endure and thrive, no matter the challenges it faces.“

The UN's Amakrane said Wednesday's summit main aims is to re-affirm the issue of sovereignty despite what the oceans do.

“The land is still there," he said. “It's just the surface is submerged under water.”

For most of the young people's lives, if not all, there will be some land on Tuvalu, just less and less of it — with more of it inundated during storms, king tides and the rise of the oceans. And if she doesn't have to worry about a family, Malie said the increasing hardship of living there will be worth it.

The threat of her home disappearing, slowly, has been hanging over her head since birth. Even when she went to school in Fiji, she and her fellow Tuvalu students “were usually mocked as the `sinking island kids,'” she said. “That's something that pushes us to continue our fight."

The Associated Press’ climate and environmental coverage receives financial support from multiple private foundations. AP is solely responsible for all content. Find AP’s standards for working with philanthropies, a list of supporters and funded coverage areas at AP.org. Follow Seth Borenstein at http://x.com/ borenbears and read more of AP’s climate coverage at http://www.apnews.com/climate-and-environment

Grace Malie poses for a photo, Monday, Sept. 23, 2024, at the United Nations headquarters. (AP Photo/Julia Demaree Nikhinson)

Grace Malie poses for a photo Monday, Sept. 23, 2024, at the United Nations headquarters. (AP Photo/Julia Demaree Nikhinson)

Grace Malie wears a pin of the Tuvalu flag while posing for photos, Monday, Sept. 23, 2024, at the United Nations headquarters. (AP Photo/Julia Demaree Nikhinson)

Grace Malie poses for a photo Monday, Sept. 23, 2024, at the United Nations headquarters. (AP Photo/Julia Demaree Nikhinson)

Grace Malie poses for a photo Monday, Sept. 23, 2024, at the United Nations headquarters. (AP Photo/Julia Demaree Nikhinson)

Grace Malie poses for a photo Monday, Sept. 23, 2024, at the United Nations headquarters. (AP Photo/Julia Demaree Nikhinson)

SEOUL, South Korea (AP) — Ahn Sung-ki, one of South Korean cinema’s biggest stars whose prolific 60-year career and positive, gentle public image earned him the nickname “The Nation’s Actor,” died Monday. He was 74.

Ahn, who had suffered blood cancer for years, was pronounced dead at Seoul's Soonchunhyang University Hospital, his agency, the Artist Company, and hospital officials said.

“We feel deep sorrow at the sudden, sad news, pray for the eternal rest of the deceased and offer our heartfelt condolences to his bereaved family members," the Artist Company said in a statement.

President Lee Jae Myung issued a condolence message saying Ahn provided many people with comfort, joy and time for reflection. “I already miss his warm smile and gentle voice,” Lee wrote on Facebook.

Born to a filmmaker in the southeastern city of Daegu in 1952, Ahn made his debut as a child actor in the movie “The Twilight Train” in 1957. He subsequently appeared in about 70 movies as a child actor before he left the film industry to live an ordinary life.

In 1970, Ahn entered Seoul’s Hankuk University of Foreign Studies as a Vietnamese major. Ahn said he graduated with top honors but failed to land jobs at big companies, who likely saw his Vietnamese major largely useless after a communist victory in the Vietnam War in 1975.

Ahn returned to the film industry in 1977 believing he could still excel in acting. In 1980, he rose to fame for his lead role in Lee Jang-ho’s “Good, Windy Days,” a hit coming-of-age movie about the struggle of working-class men from rural areas during the country’s rapid rise. Ahn won the best new actor award in the prestigious Grand Bell Awards, the Korean version of the Academy Awards.

He later starred in a series of highly successful and critically acclaimed movies, sweeping best actor awards and becoming arguably the country’s most popular actor in much of the 1980-90s.

Some of his memorable roles included a Buddhist monk in 1981’s “Mandara,” a beggar in 1984’s “Whale Hunting,” a Vietnam War veteran-turned-novelist in 1992’s “White Badge,” a corrupt police officer in 1993’s “Two Cops,” a murderer in 1999’s “No Where To Hide,” a special forces trainer in 2003’s “Silmido” and a devoted celebrity manager in 2006’s “Radio Star.”

Ahn had collected dozens of trophies in major movie awards in South Korea, including winning the Grand Bell Awards for best actor five times, an achievement no other South Korean actors have matched yet.

Ahn built up an image as a humble, trustworthy and family-oriented celebrity who avoided major scandals and maintained a quiet, stable personal life. Past public surveys chose Ahn as South Korea’s most beloved actor and deserving of the nickname “The Nation’s Actor.”

Ahn said he earlier felt confined with his “The Nation's Actor” labeling but eventually thought that led him down the right path. In recent years, local media has given other stars similar honorable nicknames, but Ahn was apparently the first South Korean actor who was dubbed “The Nation's Actor.”

“I felt I should do something that could match that title. But I think that has eventually guided me on a good direction,” Ahn said in an interview with Yonhap news agency in 2023.

In media interviews, Ahn couldn’t choose what his favorite movie was, but said that his role as a dedicated, hardworking manger for a washed-up rock singer played by Park Jung-hoon resembled himself in real life the most.

Ahn was also known for his reluctance to do love scenes. He said said he was too shy to act romantic scenes and sometimes asked directors to skip steamy scenes if they were only meant to add spice to movies.

“I don’t do well on acting like looking at someone who I don’t love with loving eyes and kissing really romantically. I feel shy and can’t express such emotions well,” Ahn said in an interview with the Shindonga magazine in 2007. “Simply, I’m clumsy on that. So I couldn’t star in such movies a lot. But ultimately, that was a right choice for me.”

Ahn is survived by his wife and their two sons. A mourning station at a Seoul hospital was to run until Friday.

FILE - South Korean actor Ahn Sung-ki smiles for a photo on the red carpet at the 56th Daejong Film Awards ceremony in Seoul, South Korea, June 3, 2020. (AP Photo/Ahn Young-joon, File)

FILE - South Korean actor Ahn Sung-ki attends an event as part of the 11th Pusan International Film Festival in Busan, South Korea, Oct. 13, 2006. (AP Photo/Kin Cheung, File)