By Liza Pratt
Before joining the Environmental Justice Core Group, I was familiar with the concept of environmental justice, but I had chosen to stop looking too closely because it was hard to acknowledge the injustice without doing something, and I didn’t know what to do. I joined the Core Group to deepen my understanding of environmental justice and to challenge myself to take personal responsibility.
The Core Group began with a brief history of the environmental justice movement. I was surprised to learn the roots were so close to home. In 1978, the State of North Carolina chose to build a landfill for toxic waste in politically-neglected Warren County. Organizations and community leaders mounted a lawsuit, arguing that the town of Afton was chosen because its residents were “few, black, and poor.” The lawsuit and four years of protests did not stop the landfill, but they did catalyze the movement for environmental justice. The concept of environmental (in)justice arose from the recognition that some communities disproportionately bear the burden and risks of environmental harm caused by others. This is especially the case for low-income and working-class people, people of color, and indigenous peoples whose livelihoods and health may be threatened by resource extraction, waste disposal and pollution in their neighborhoods, and hazards in their workplaces.
Over the following months, as we explored what environmental injustice looks like locally, regionally, and around the world, I was forced to look more closely at what I did not want to see. For example, here in Charlotte, neighborhoods in the Historic West End bear the longstanding legacy of industrial zoning and highway construction. Time and time again, large sources of air pollution were sited in or near the community with less wealth and political power. After decades of breathing higher levels of air pollution, residents of the Historic West End see significantly worse health outcomes than residents of neighborhoods like Dilworth and Myers Park.
Each month, I grappled with swelling sense of despair, reaching peak despair when we got to the topic of climate change. Already, people all over the world are dealing with the impacts of climate change as their homes and livelihoods are threatened by sea-level rise, flooding, heatwaves, and extreme weather events. Once again, the most vulnerable communities are disproportionately burdened by these impacts. I struggled to conceptualize how we fight these injustices – not just treat the symptoms but dismantle the underlying causes – when they are so entwined, so historic, and so systemic. Despair was not hard to find.
By participating in the core group, I did eventually find the hope I was looking for as well. For the book review, I chose to read Climate Justice: Hope, Resilience, and the Fight for a Sustainable Future. Mary Robinson, former president of Ireland and UN Special Envoy on Climate Change, lifts the voices of those heavily impacted by climate change – particularly women. As I read their stories, I found hope in their resilience of spirit, in their ability to help their communities mitigate the local impacts of climate change, and in the transformational potential of empowering those most impacted by climate change to lead the efforts to fight it. I realized that to choose despair is an act of privilege they don’t have.
I also found hope in the realization that, although I do have to act, I do not have to act alone. I am inspired by the UUCC’s call to action too and am grateful to have joined a community that is committed to spiritual, societal, and environmental transformation. Participating in the Environmental Justice Core Group was an important first step for me. I look forward to seeing what we can do together as a community.
As Greta has said, “Once we start to act, hope is everywhere.”