There is No Hope for The Environmental Movement Until Black Lives Matter
Since the protests for Black Lives Matter began about two weeks ago, I’ve been trying to figure out how to continue writing about climate action without feeling like I’m ignoring the importance of this moment. I knew there was a connection between the two issues, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. After reading a perspective piece by Dr. Ayana Elizabeth Johnson in the Washington Post last week, the dots in my head were finally connected.
If you aren’t a subscriber, reading Dr. Johnson’s article titled, “I’m a black climate expert. Racism derails our efforts to save the planet” is worth much more than the $1 to subscribe to the newspaper for a month. I won’t attempt to summarize her words, but I can try to examine how my own experience with environmental justice relates to my experience with racial inequality. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, becoming actively anti-racist is perhaps more important than being actively pro-environment.
In all my years studying the environment, climate, and renewable energy, the concept of environmental justice remained a central but vague idea that comes up as a common reprise: The most vulnerable communities are the most likely to feel the worst effects of climate change. Not only will the poorest and most vulnerable people feel the worst effects, they will feel it first.This is the connection between the climate movement and the Black Lives Matter movement.
No matter how many times I have encountered this dilemma, I have done little to consider how my actions and inactions allow this reality to persist. It has often crossed my mind that solar could greatly benefit the lives of millions—not only middle class white people—but I didn’t spend enough time or energy to explore the solutions needed for those less fortunate. For all the effort that I’ve put into promoting solar energy and sustainability for the greater good, I have done little to stand up for those who are most likely to lose their homes and their communities to climate change.
In her article, Dr. Johnson points out that disadvantaged communities “and black Americans are disproportionately more likely than whites to be concerned about—and affected by—the climate crisis.” This is not news to me, and is doubtfully new information to my colleagues and fellow environmentalists who are likely to have heard this story before. Though I have focused on environmental issues throughout my career, I am equally aware of systemic racism and police brutality against black Americans. However, in both cases of injustice I have failed to take the time to step back and recognize my responsibility is to do more than acknowledge my disgust for such injustice.
Dr. Ayana Elizabeth Johnson is a climate expert who is dedicated to building community around climate solutions, and she is one of many people of color whose work and efforts are distracted and derailed by racism. How can we prevent the worst impacts of climate change and protect our planet if we are unwilling to protect people who we need to defend it? To Dr. Johnson’s point, “if we want to successfully address climate change, we need people of color.”
Ever since I started studying the environment I have often experienced feelings of anger, fear, and helplessness, and at times I have considered giving up because solving the issue of climate change seem downright impossible. Whenever I hear stories or see videos of people of color being killed unjustly by law enforcement I experience similar feelings of anger, horror, and powerlessness, but I have never come to the conclusion that ending systemic racism is an impossible task.
There is a big difference between choosing to do something and being forced to experience it. I have not been forced to experience racism throughout my entire life the way millions of people of color have. I have not dedicated myself to fixing the problems of inequality and racism to the point of exhaustion and wanting to give up. Instead I chose to study the environment and dedicate my life and career to protecting the planet from human beings—an equally daunting task, in my opinion.
Along with millions of people around the world I have been watching, listening, and reading a lot about the Black Lives Matter movement since the death of George Floyd. Perhaps the most important lesson I have learned is the difference between not being racist and being actively anti-racist. To put this in the perspective of environmentalism, it is akin to the difference between simply believing in climate change and actively picking trash out of the ocean, for example. In other words, the difference is between action and inaction.
As I mentioned above, environmental justice is a common theme in environmental studies and climate activism, but no amount of acknowledgement is a substitute for action. We cannot expect to stop environmental damage by simply believing in the science of climate change—we must take action. We cannot expect to eradicate systemic racism simply by identifying it—we must take action.
Being actively anti-racist means identifying racial inequalities, confronting the barriers that exist for people of color, and actively supporting anti-racist ideas and policies. These actions are not only necessary to protect people of color from police violence and allow them to pursue education and careers without the barriers of systemic racism; these actions are also necessary to protect our planet and to allow people of color an equal opportunity to join the environmental movement—without the distraction of racism.
When it comes to ending structural racism and stopping the worst impacts of climate change, there cannot be one without the other. More and more people are concerned about the environment, but black and Latinx people are more likely to be concerned about climate change—because they are most likely to be affected. Only by protecting people of color from structural racism can we hope to begin working together in earnest to prevent the worst impacts of climate change and clean up the environment.
I have studied climate change and the environment, pursued a career in the solar industry, written blogs about climate issues, attended COP21, signed petitions for climate action, and done many things to confidently identify myself as a pro-environmentalist. My track record as an anti-racist is virtually nonexistent, yet until recently I would have considered myself to be as much of a pro-environmentalist as I am an anti-racist. I convinced myself of this misconception because, until recently, I didn’t really know the difference between “not being racist” and “being anti-racist.”
If somebody told me that they were concerned about climate change and wanted to do something about it, I could easily inundate them with articles, resources, blogs, social media accounts, tell them all the ways they could reduce their footprint. Whether or not they read it all, and learned everything they could, I would feel I’d made a difference so long as they did something.
In a matter of weeks I have found myself in a comparable position, immersed with action plans for Justice in June, automated email generators to politicians and petitions to defund the police—more anti-racism resources than I could have imagined were possible. While I may not be able to read it all, I am doing something. I am adding my name to more petitions, paying more attention to policies and voting issues, and having more conversations with friends and family about racism.
Of course, this doesn’t mean I am giving up on my position in the fight for the climate—I am simply joining the other half of the battle to solve the racial injustice crisis. I am stepping up to help confront the barriers that exist for people of color, actively supporting anti-racist ideas and policies, and becoming as actively anti-racist as I am actively pro-environment, because as Dr. Johnson says, “if we don’t work on both, we will succeed at neither.”