“Slowly, it’s been killing us”: Environmental Racism and Justice

Written by Becca Williams, SBT Copywriter

Cover art by Sergio Maciel and Provoke Culture. 

I write about liberation a lot throughout these posts.  I spend time on the notions that we are on a path toward liberation, and that addressing and divesting from White Supremacy is moving us toward collective freedom.  Through that conversation, I have touched on many aspects of history, from the work of Ida B. Wells to the Reproductive Justice movement, from maroon communities to law enforcement, and numerous spaces in between.  Freedom is about self-sovereignty, the ability to live healthy, dignified lives free from violence, and to make choices about our bodies, our education, where we live, and how we want to make our dreams come true.  Ultimately, it’s about being able to determine what happens to you. 

We know that in the end, no one wins under White Supremacy.  However, the  symbiotic relationship whiteness has with White Supremacy – in which we (white folx) pay into the system and in return receive some perceived benefit, has made its own determinations around freedom.  Today I’m going to touch on an especially pernicious form of White Supremacy:  Environmental racism.  I found this topic to be terrifying in its scale, including the water crises in Flint, MI and Jackson, MS, the use of lead paint, the zoning of federally subsidized housing near Superfund sites, the whiteness of the environmental movement,  the impacts of climate change (as we are seeing now in Cuba, Florida, and South Carolina), and the racist rebuilding efforts after natural catastrophes such as Hurricane Katrina. Our ecosystem is in a state of rebellion, and, to everyone’s detriment, whiteness has grabbed hold of that rebellion and placed it squarely on the shoulders of Black and brown communities.  Environmental justice movements, led by Black and brown activists, have been critical in securing and maintaining the freedom to live in good health, to live in dignity, and to live in pursuit of dreams.   

Environmental racism impacts communities of color around the world, but today I’ll be specifically focusing on environmental racism and anti-Blackness.  This article simply defines environmental racism and environmental justice as, “Environmental racism is the disproportionate impact of environmental hazards on people of color.  Environmental justice is the movement’s response to environmental racism.”

As the above video discusses, a lot of environmental racism boils down to which zip code ones lives in.  There can be a life expectancy discrepancy of 15 years between zip codes housing majority Black communities and adjacent zip codes housing majority white communities.  These discrepancies are often due to exposure to pollutants, either through the zoning and placement of oil refineries, dumping toxic and hazardous waster, proximity to landfills and pipelines, and freeways tearing through Black communities and damaging air quality.   All of this is by design, either through redlining or through the racist notion that marginalized communities will put up less resistance to large corporations infringing on their right to clean air.  Building freeways through Black communities, for example, has myriad ripple effects: What were perhaps once single-family homes owned by middle class Black occupants were bought out, forcing these folx to become renters and thus lose equity and overall inhibit the passing of generational wealth.

A few statistics from the John Oliver video can help frame this issue: Black people are exposed to 38% more polluted air than their white counterparts, and are 75 times more likely to live in communities that border a plant or a factory.  This occurs even when social class and income are controlled for – meaning race is the largest indicator in disparities around polluted and unsafe air.  Black Americans who make over $200,000 a year are exposed to more air pollution than white Americans making $25,000 a year.  Nearly a quarter of all chemical manufacturing done in our country takes place in Cancer Alley, a 90 mile stretch of the Mississippi River from Baton Rouge, LA to New Orleans that houses predominantly Black communities.  During an interview I saw, a Cancer Alley occupant was asked why he didn’t simply move away.  A shocking question, definitely, and his answer was simple – in good conscience, to whom would he sell his home?  And, more importantly, why should he have to move?  The question itself barely scratches the surface in insinuating that corporations can continue wreaking havoc on Black and brown communities so long as those communities decide to stay.  Where is any measure of accountability?  How can we enable, through silence, apathy, or distraction, any human living in these conditions?  The environmental movement itself is partly to blame. 

(A cemetery in Cancer Alley, oil refinery in the background.)

In the pivotal 1970 paper titled “Black Ecology”, author Nathan Hare lays bare the divisions in the white and Black environmental movements.  It’s a short, searing read.  He mentions that for white environmentalists, “Pollution closes your beaches and prevents your youngsters from wading, swimming, boating…Similar involvement includes the planting of redwood trees, saving the American eagle, and redeeming terrestrial beauty.”  He then goes on to say, “But the ecological ordeal of the Black race does not have to wait for a nuclear attack; present conditions are dangerous enough.”  In reading this, I thought of my Bank of America debit card.  While “transition to a credit union” has been on my to-do list for a long time, it usually falls to the bottom in terms of priority.  My debit card has a picture of a panda on it, and Bank of America has committed to matching some percentage of my transactions as a donation to the World Wildlife Fund.  I thought that was lovely until I did a quick google search around “Bank of America and environmental racism” and read about Bank of America’s involvement in the Formosa Plastics project (since cancelled due to health risks).  Formosa Plastics’ “Sunshine Project” was a proposed petrochemical plant on a 2,400-acre complex in Cancer Alley.  The bank’s commitment to preserving wildlife, while an overall net positive, serves as a red herring to distract us from the direct harm the bank’s practices are causing for Black and brown lives. And I, in my possession of this card and complete buy-in to that notion, am contributing first-hand to environmental racism.  We all have work to do. 

Dr. Dorceta Taylor, a Professor of Environmental Justice at Yale University who is quoted in this post’s title, says that environmental justice is the “equal opportunity to live in an environment that’s just, and trying to get recompense for the harms and damage that have been done over time.”  As this post is a very blanket overview of the issues of environmental racism and justice, I encourage you to take a look at the following resources to learn more about Black environmental justice activists taking this fight into their own hands:

Here is a list of environmental organizations that could use financial support, and check out the work being done by the National Black Environmental Justice Network and the Deep South Center for Environmental Justice. Also, take a listen to this podcast about environmental justice.  It’s a Goop production, and very much centered in whiteness.  I encourage you to think through how whiteness and White Supremacy show up in this interview, in addition to taking some time to reflect on your own environmental experiences and practices.