Fred Tuman’s journey to the environmentalism movement was unorthodox, to say the least. He spent 25 years as a contract journalist, working for various major U.S. and foreign networks, including CBS and the BBC. At 40, he enrolled in law school; but had to drop out due to family obligations. He then worked for the Water and Sewer Authority and the Prince George’s County State’s Attorney Office in Washington, D.C. 

Tutman’s entry into the Waterkeeper realm happened almost by chance: while at an environmental meeting in 2003, he met a riverkeeper called Fred Kelly. Intrigued by the concept, Tutman read The Riverkeepers by Robert Kennedy, Jr, and the rest, as they say, is history. In 2004, Tutman founded the Patuxent Riverkeeper, a non-profit organization that aims to “conserve, protect and replenish Maryland’s longest and deepest intrastate waterway.” He is currently among the longest-serving Waterkeepers in the region— and the only Black Waterkeeper in the nation. Tutman has had an eventful and successful career as a Patuxent Riverkeeper, filing numerous lawsuits to force corporations and federal agencies to obey environmental statutes. The Patuxent Riverkeeper has also given voice to communities who oppose development; for example, it was involved in a lawsuit against Maryland for approving the construction of power plants in areas that would disproportionately affect Black citizens. 

On Wednesday, March 9, Tutman spoke at a joint seminar for the Environmental Advocacy and Environmental Justice Clinics at Vermont Law School. Tutman focused on the lack of diversity in “mainstream” environmentalism. While the causes of this “white-washing” are numerous and complex, Tutman highlighted the crucial intersection between environmentalism and money, colonialism, and communities of color. First and foremost, he discussed the role that money has played in shaping environmentalism: the most prominent non-profit environmental organizations have become considerably more lucrative (the Environmental Defense Fund had reported revenue of $221 million for the 2020 fiscal year; the Sierra Club reported revenue of $214 million). Consequently, they often perpetuate harmful myths about the movement: that capitalism is inherently “good” because it can offer a degree of freedom within environmentalism that attacking global environmental issues will ultimately result in solutions to local environmental problems. 

Additionally, these organizations, and others like them, arguably comprise the “face” of the mainstream environmentalism movement and are overwhelmingly white-run and staffed. This perpetuates the harmful and worrying myth that Black and Indigenous people of color (“BIPOC”) do not care about the environment because they lack involvement in the organizations.

The current environmentalism movement, Tutman posited, is inextricably linked to colonialism, defined as “control by one power over a dependent area or people.” Such large environmental organizations are unable—and arguably unwilling—to appropriately respond to the needs of local BIPOC communities. In other words, while these so-called “big green” organizations now recognize the importance of “diversity,” they approach this concept from an optics standpoint rather than with a genuine interest in and desire to increase the organization’s inclusion and diversity. This hesitation or reluctance to increase diversity is partially fueled by the organizations’ fear of changing the “experience” of the movement for the people who are already a part of it who are predominately white. 

How have these factors affected the diversity of the mainstream environmentalism movement? Tutman noted that many, if not all, of these “big greens”, are primarily funded by corporate and other large investors; the goal of these organizations is therefore to attract funding. This reliance on corporate funding has contributed to the whitewashing of the environmentalism movement in two primary ways. Firstly, because of this country’s history, white people generally have more wealth to contribute to such organizations; consequently, they are the ones who have more readily become involved. Secondly, for these monied movements to attract investors, they must project a sense of wealth and security; whiteness is often linked to wealth and security. 

Another critical issue Tutman discussed was the seeming separation between environmental justice and nature-based work. To illustrate this issue, Tutman described a lawsuit involving Joe Mills, an elderly gentleman in Bowie, Maryland. Mill’s family farm, Oasis Farms, was surrounded by a quickly growing planned community. Under an Army Corps of Engineers permit, the developer created a six-acre pond, diverting the stream that Mills’ cows used for water and effectively rendering it useless in preparation for the development. Despite being a tributary of the Patuxent River, the stream’s small size made it vulnerable to such diversion, even under state environmental laws. The result: a legal loophole destroyed Mills’ rights to use the water on his property. When the lawsuit gained public attention, the response was outrage. However, this outrage was shockingly not directed at the exploitation of Mills; instead, at the impact the drainage line and the resulting pond had on the turtles on Mills’ property. Tutman asserted that this artificial separation of the human and environmental effects—specifically the valuing of ecological impacts (such as the turtles) over the human experience—has further contributed to the marginalization of BIPOC and lower-income communities in the environmentalism movement.

So what’s the solution? How do we facilitate diversity in the environmentalism movement in a meaningful way? Tutman asserted several ways to approach this disparity in the environmentalism movement to make it more inclusive and diverse. Firstly, he advocated for alternative approaches to environmentalism that move away from the non-profit, often corporate-funded, complex. He explained that corporate money often coerces the recipients of such funds by controlling the money flow and the conversation (stifling dissent) and hiding colonialist tendencies through philanthropy. By moving away from such sources of money, environmental organizations can better address the pressing diversity and environmental justice issues that plague the environmentalism movement. 

To this end, Tutman noted the importance of understanding the different approaches that environmental non-profits can use to enact change. He divided green organizations into two primary categories: “dark greens,” which use transactional tactics such as petitions, sign-on letters, and outreach, and “light greens,” which use transformative tactics such as litigation to create structural change. BIPOC communities exist in the “light green” space because of the existing social constraints on such communities. Tutman also noted the distinction between “turf” (where an individual belongs) and “domain” (where an individual can go). Understandably, these terms carry very different connotations for BIPOCs compared to white people; therefore, it is crucial to understand the limitations these concepts impose on other communities. Tutman asserted that humanitarianism and human-focused work should be at the forefront of any environmental movement to bridge the perceived gap between environmental justice and nature-based work. 

 

Finally, when asked what he thinks is the best approach to addressing “big green” organizations’ issue of diversity, Tutman’s response highlighted that the answer—at least in part—is simple: you should hand power over to those you want to see in power. The Patuxent Riverkeeper aims to do just that.