New Jersey’s EJ Law Is Passed, and It Still Might Not Be Enough
by Isabella Marie Nangano
In 2020, the New Jersey State Legislature enacted the Environmental Justice Law, one that its citizens wanted for a long time. The law requires the Department of Environmental Protection (DEP) to consider the environmental impact of a proposed project on the community before approving its permits. This legislation was passed in response to calls from environmental activists for meaningful climate reform, particularly in a state that hosts the largest number of Superfund sites in the country. Governor Murphy expressed hope that the law would shield New Jerseyites from the pollution impacts of superstorms, like Hurricane Sandy, which caused widespread devastation in 2012. However, the law has fallen short of its promise. Despite being regarded as a landmark environmental justice law in this country, it does not fully protect the communities it was designed to serve. For instance, residents of the Ironbound neighborhood in Newark are fighting against constructing a sewage treatment plant which will lead to further pollution in the neighborhood—an outcome the Environmental Justice Law has not prevented.
Ironbound is a multicultural neighborhood rife with pollution. The heavily polluted Passaic River and countless factories border residents’ homes. These residents suffer health consequences from their living conditions, such as higher asthma rates in their children, but are unable to afford housing elsewhere. In theory, the law should be helping prevent further damage to this neighborhood, but it’s not. The state plans to build a new sewage treatment plant in the Ironbound neighborhood. The sewage treatment plant will act as a backstop for other sewage plants in case of future superstorms like Sandy. Hurricane Sandy destroyed New Jersey’s sewage system and raw sewage ran through the streets of Newark. Governor Murphey intends for this new plant to ensure that future storms are never as detrimental as Sandy. The plant is only meant for emergencies, but for one hour every day, the plant will run to ensure that the technology is still operable. The people who live in Ironbound already are impacted daily by factories and the pollution, and the last thing this neighborhood needs is another pollution source.
Ironbound residents have tried to organize against the sewage plant’s construction, but the Department of Environmental Protection conditionally approved the project in July. The plant is allowed to be built as long as it is: 1) only operative in an emergency, 2) incorporates some solar energy, and 3) utilizes high-quality equipment to reduce noise pollution. The conditional approval of this project is what the Environmental Justice Law was made to avoid. The reasoning behind building the sewage plant is to reduce the impacts from climate change-exacerbated storms (superstorms) caused by businesses which will never be a firsthand witness to the consequences of their actions. Those actors and decision-makers whose polluting tendencies created the need for an emergency sewage plant will never have to live next door to that emergency sewage plant. The Ironbound residents cannot afford housing elsewhere and are trapped in a toxic neighborhood.
The new sewage plant in Ironbound is just one example of environmental injustice in a country that has a serious problem with the disproportionate impact of pollution on poor and BIPOC communities. New Jersey appears to have taken one step towards righting these wrongs by passing the Environmental Justice Law, but that step is not enough. The intent that accompanies this law is a just one. However, the enforcement of this law is lacking. Had the Department of Environmental Protection taken a moment to consider the impact on environmental and public health that this new sewage plant would have (per the statute’s requirement) perhaps it would not have approved the project. The Environmental Justice Law is a good law, but if is ever going to live up to its potential, then the Department of Environmental Protection must try to enforce the law.
Bridging the Gap: Ensuring a Just Transition for Rural Communities in the Clean Energy Revolution
by Olivia Moulton
As we begin transitioning from fossil fuels to renewable energy, we must be mindful of the disproportionate effects that the existing energy system has had on certain communities. In order to meet the 2050 goals set forth by the International Renewable Energy Agency, approximately 37 gigatons of annual CO2 emissions must be cut by 2050. To achieve this goal, there must be substantial improvements in energy efficiency. There are ongoing disparities in energy efficiency in rural communities in America. The importance of improving energy efficiency measures in rural communities is crucial for the clean energy transition.
Rural communities have the highest energy burdens, meaning they spend the highest percentage of their income on energy costs. Rural communities, on average, have earned less than their urban and suburban counterparts. This means that rural residents have less money to spend on energy, driving down demand and disincentivizing utilities from investing in infrastructure. Rural communities also have higher transportation energy burdens than those who live in urban areas. This is because they do not have abundant public transportation options and often have to travel further distances for work, school, and leisure. All rural subgroups can see benefits from even modest energy efficiency improvements.
One program designed to help these rural communities improve their energy efficiency is the Energy Improvements in Rural or Remote Areas (ERA) program. The ERA is funded through the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law, and received $1 billion to help expand education, investment, access, and resilience in America’s rural and remote communities. Under the ERA, there is the Cooperative Agreement Funding Opportunity and the Fixed Award Grant Funding Opportunity Announcement. Most projects have been awarded to indigenous tribes in Alaska and the western part of the country, as well as universities who help to develop clean energy projects. This is because many tribes pay almost four times the national average for their utilities, causing them to have a high energy burden.
Another program that is available is the Rural Energy Savings Program (RESP). This program provides loans to rural utilities and other companies who provide energy efficiency loans to qualified consumers to implement durable, cost-effective energy efficiency measures. Eligible applicants under this program include entities that provide retail electric service needs. These loans could help with reluctance to implement energy efficiency programs. By providing the opportunity for a utility to provide the service, it could override some of the reluctance that is seen from customers.
In the same vein as the RESP, there is also the Renewable Energy for America Program (REAP). REAP provides guaranteed loan financing and grant funding to agricultural producers and rural small businesses. 15% of agricultural production costs are energy related, and with the cost of energy rising, using less energy can go a long way. Agricultural producers are among the most energy-intensive businesses, so they would benefit the most from improved energy efficiency measures. REAP would save them money as well as reduce greenhouse gas emissions. By allowing these entities to improve their energy efficiency it can not only bring benefits to those businesses themselves but also to the communities where they are located. Allowing these businesses to cut their energy costs will allow them and their communities to prosper. For example, just switching to more efficient lightbulbs could result in energy savings of $2,658 a year. If this small measure would give farmers an almost $3,000 profit, imagine what larger efficiency measures could do.
Energy efficiency has been noted as a crucial part of the clean energy transition, but ultimately, not enough has been done to remedy energy efficiency defects. Especially in rural areas, where utilities are less likely to focus infrastructure upgrades, sentiments are often against changing the system, and energy burdens are among the highest in the country, these measures are more important than ever. In the transition to clean energy we cannot leave rural communities, often forgotten about or who come secondary to urban centers, behind. The effects that energy efficiency measures could have on these communities could not only help them financially but help to cut down on emissions by using less energy. All people deserve a place in the clean energy transition, and our actions moving forward must be just.
CAFOs: Harming People Now, Later, and Forever
by Aika Mitchell
As early as 1997, the National Bar Association had understood CAFOs to be an environmental justice issue. CAFOs directly endanger members of the local community—the majority of whom are poorer or belong to racial minorities—by polluting the air and spreading disease. Furthermore, CAFOs continue to emit significant amounts of methane, which in turn increases the incidence of climate disasters. These climate disasters differentially affect the same lives who were directly harmed by CAFOs in the first place: poorer communities with less resources to cope with climate disasters, and livestock animals who are left to die and rot when a hurricane blows through. Americans’ continued reliance on CAFOs perpetuates injustice and cruelty, subject to little regulatory oversight.
The Environmental Protection Agency created the term “Concentrated Animal Feeding Operation”, (CAFO) as part of a regulatory scheme for enforcing the Clean Water Act. CAFOs confine a large number of animals for at least 45 days in a given 12-month period. CAFOs dominate agriculture in the United States: in 2017, an estimated 99% of all meat sold in the U.S. came from animals confined in CAFOs. That’s 99% of an enormous industry—retail sales of beef alone represented 143 billion dollars in 2022. The value of broiler chicken sales (i.e. sales of chickens selective bred for maximum meat production) was about 42.6 billion dollars in 2023, and eggs brought in about 17.9 billion dollars in 2023. CAFOs are huge. They are huge in terms of dollars, animals confined, and negative effects on surrounding communities.
While data about CAFOs is hard to obtain because of EPA’s historic lack of oversight and inadequate recordkeeping, there is still evidence of the direct harm CAFOs do. Historically disenfranchised groups are harmed by a frequent proximity to CAFOs. For example, a study of CAFOs in North Carolina suggests that CAFOs tend to be sited in poorer communities with more Black people, increasing their exposure to CAFO-related pollutants. That same study also suggests that CAFO exposure is correlated with cardiovascular and kidney disease. A similar siting trend was observed in Ohio, where Black and Hispanic communities suffered higher exposure. In Pennsylvania, the 8th largest milk producing state, CAFO exposure was correlated with preterm birth; the correlation was stronger in Black mothers. Additionally, there is the everyday burden of living near a pig CAFO. Imagine the stench of thousands of pigs, miserable, covered in feces. Your porch is unusable—there are too many flies. You can’t cook outside because the smell taints everything.
Mere proximity to a CAFO harms people, but CAFOs are also nefarious contributors to climate change—the effects of which are borne overwhelmingly by poor and minority communities. Methane is a greenhouse gas that traps heat more effectively than carbon dioxide. CAFOs are significant methane emitters through their manure.
A 2021 EPA report demonstrated that low income, minority, undereducated, and elderly people are disproportionately affected by climate change compared to people outside those groups. For example, Black Americans are 40% more likely than non-Black Americans to live in places where climate change-induced extreme temperatures will cause death. Low income Americans or those with no high school diploma are 25% more likely to live in places where projected higher temperatures will cause losses in labor hours. The Fifth National Climate Assessment (NCA5) paints a similarly bleak picture. Low income and minority neighborhoods tend to be less resilient to the effects of climate change. Low income neighborhoods suffer from hotter surface temperatures (up to 12 degrees hotter during a heatwave), which can cause a slew of severe health problems. Throughout the country, Black communities are predicted to suffer more flood damages than other racial groups. The NCA5 attributes this differential impact to past discriminatory practices such as redlining. Thus, climate change continues to reinforce climate-resilience disparities between class and racial groups.
Despite the tremendous harm that CAFOs do, the federal government does not effectively regulate methane emissions from CAFOs. The EPA had promulgated a rule exempting smaller farms from mandatory air emissions reporting requirements back in 2008. Then, the D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals vacated that rule in the case Waterkeeper Alliance v. EPA in 2017. In response, Congress stepped in and passed the Fair Agricultural Reporting Method Act (“FARM Act”), which exempted CAFOs from needing to report their air emissions from manure to the EPA. While Congress has impeded the public’s awareness of the true extent of CAFOs’ emissions, the EPA has acknowledged, that greenhouse gas emissions (including methane emissions) have risen sharply with the proliferation of CAFOs between 1990 and 2017.
Greenhouse gases are major drivers of global climate change. Global climate change tends to disproportionately affect poor and minority communities. Nearly 20 years ago, the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization wrote “Livestock’s Long Shadow”, which warned that the “livestock sector” is “one of the top two or three most significant contributors to the most serious environmental problems.” We did not heed that warning: livestock still contribute significantly to global greenhouse gas emissions. CAFOs remain a neglected opportunity to mitigate climate change harms.
Though the sheer size and influence of the animal agriculture industry makes change difficult, there are multiple possible avenues. Citizens can pressure state legislatures to regulate CAFOs more strictly. Oregon can celebrate a victory here: in the 2023 legislative session, a new law prohibiting CAFOs from getting discharge permits in groundwater management areas was signed into law. This was a hard-earned win, and it was only possible because of a collective effort by organizations and community stakeholders. Similarly, building just policies for broadly transitioning away from industrial animal consumption can get ahead of the common concerns (e.g. how to transition when some people absolutely rely on industrial animal agriculture to survive.)
Another legislative strategy for reducing CAFO-caused harms is pushing legislators to refine right to farm laws so that they don’t protect CAFOs. This may allow private citizens to bring common law nuisance claims against CAFOs, hopefully suing them into better behavior. A less monumental—but perhaps more critical—strategy would be changing consumption patterns. Whether your priorities are environmental justice, climate change, animal welfare, or something else altogether, personally choosing to consume less animal products is an important way to oppose CAFOs, a highly entrenched industry that inflicts tremendous amounts of harm.
Hurricane Helene and Appalachia: The Climate Disaster Built on Environmental Injustice
by Savannah Collins
Hurricane Helene
On September 26th and 27th of 2024, Hurricane Helene barreled through the Appalachian Mountains. Dropping over 18 inches of rain in many mountainous areas, communication lines are still down and entire sections of roads and highways have been washed away. Following days of prior rainfall, the already saturated soil could not take anymore.
As of this writing, Hurricane Helene is the deadliest hurricane to strike the mainland U.S. since Hurricane Katrina. At least 227 people are reported dead across six states with hundreds more reported missing. At least 72 people are dead in Buncombe County, NC, alone. Due to the extremely isolated nature of these mountainous homes, search and rescue efforts are still underway to locate some of the community’s most vulnerable members. Asheville is projecting that drinking water will not be restored for weeks. President Biden has declared the majority of western North Carolina as a federal disaster area, making FEMA assistance available to those who meet the requirements.
FEMA’s disaster assistance will help people get back on their feet in the short-term, but there must be a focus on rebuilding for long-term climate resilience based on what works for the affected communities. While donating helps, more physical effort on the ground and federal investments are needed to get this historically underinvested and exploited area back on its feet.
Why Appalachia is an Environmental Justice Area
The devastating storm and resulting flooding are the direct effects of climate change. Appalachia has been at the root of exploitation for well over a century and is now at the “nexus of the climate crisis.”Beginning in the 1700s and ramping up with railroad expansion in the 1800s, Appalachia and the Appalachian people have been exploited for their natural resources and physical labor for generations. Environmental justice and labor issues are deeply intertwined in Appalachia. From coal mining to fracking for natural gas, the physical impacts on the people of Appalachia are growing and compounding.
Furthermore, the area is deeply rural and often does not receive investments in their infrastructure from the federal government. As seen in 2022 with major flooding in eastern Kentucky, the area’s mountainous topography and supposedly reclaimed mining sites have made flooding significantly worse. The infrastructure in this area actually brings more problems than solutions. In fact, a 2019 project found areas in central Appalachia with increased flood risks actually overlapped with landscapes damaged by mining operations.
Additionally, most Appalachian households lack access to broadband, making filling out FEMA forms online nearly impossible. According to the FEMA website, an unreliable internet connection will likely cause issues with completing the application, potentially slowing down disaster assistance. When an area is already isolated, as is the case in many hollers in Appalachia, receiving aid requires getting past many hurdles. In the past week, there have been reports of individuals delivering supplies and aid via horseback and mules because the devastated roadways are too dangerous for vehicles. Even with this isolation and distance from the coast, climate change exacerbated storms are still hitting Appalachia.
Not only have companies physically plundered the land for coal, oil, and natural gas, but now communities like Asheville and Weaverville are directly facing the consequences. Without a more honest and focused plan on the part of the federal government, Appalachia is likely to continue to suffer at the hands of climate change built on the exploited, undervalued labor of their ancestors.
Call to Action
Legislation must be geared toward physically rebuilding these areas for long-term resilience. Organizations like Appalachian Voices, Appalachians for Appalachia, and POWHR Coalition have already been doing the work, but they need more federal funding and support. Senators and Representatives for the area should consider the long-term for their constituents and stop catering to extractive industries that reap all the physical benefits without rebuilding the community. Funding from historic environmental legislation, such as the Inflation Reduction Act, should be used to build back Appalachia for the almost certain natural disaster-filled future.
The Beacon Blog: Consider It Briefed
Houston’s Lax Zoning Practices Are Poisoning Its People
By Savannah Collins, Staff Editor for the Vermont Journal of Environmental Law
May 3, 2024
In an era where everyone is presently facing the impacts of climate change, some communities have been actively and systematically poisoned for decades. Houston, TX, stands out for the impacts of its laissez-faire zoning attitude. Houston allows industrial facilities to be located beside residential areas and schools. Due to this land use mixing, exposure to Superfund sites has increased. According to the Climate Vulnerability Index, the Fifth Ward of Houston is more vulnerable than 99% of the nation. This vulnerability comes from historic disinvestment that has culminated in measurable harm to the community. And people’s health has continuously taken a hit.
Houston’s lack of zoning controls has made it a hub of environmental justice issues. There are laws governing permitting and the like, but not for land use. Therefore, industry has been able to build wherever they choose. Combined with a history of redlining, communities that are mostly Black and Latinx are suffering. In the Greater Fifth Ward, where the population is majority Black and Latinx, the levels of pollution and pollution-related illnesses are well above average. A study done by the Environmental Defense Fund found some neighborhoods had levels of pollution equivalent to major highways in the city.
The Greater Fifth Ward is in the 99th percentile in its proximity to a Superfund site. There are over twenty-one state and federal Superfund Sites in the Houston city limits. Twenty-nine percent of the city’s concrete batch plants and 51% of the metal recycling facilities are within a half mile of at least one school or childcare center. In the Greater Fifth Ward, there are at least two elementary schools and two parks.
One of these parks is located quite close to the Union Pacific Rail lines. The City of Houston is suing the Union Pacific Railroad for creosote pollution in the Greater Fifth Ward. Notably, the railroad being sued subsumed the railroad that was in place in the 1940s, located beside this historically redlined community. There is a perpetual offloading of pollution from these railroads. A recent study by the Houston Health Department found toxic dust and soil on properties in the area. Additionally, there is a Title VI investigation by the Department of Justice into the illegal dumping activities in the city of Houston. This community is vulnerable on multiple fronts, dating back to its founding.
It would be hard to move these companies that have been in place for almost 100 years without greater aid from municipal government and organizations. The economic impact could be great, but the benefits to the people of the Fifth Ward would be greater. Despite the steep barrier, there are solutions available.
There is extensive mapping of the Superfund sites in the area. Noting where to put housing is critical to not further expose people to the current pollution levels. Furthermore, providing stipends to move out of the area would be beneficial for the community considering the level of poverty and the level of income. Without a more fluid source of funding, it is extremely difficult to move to protect their health.
With the Biden Administration highlighting environmental justice as a major factor in agency decisions, there is great potential for funding to shift nationally. The Justice40 Initiative is funneling funds out nationally and providing opportunities for community organizations to make these changes. One of the regional centers in charge of dispersing funds is the Deep South Center for Environmental Justice. They have provided an interactive resource guide for community organizations explaining Justice40 funding. There is also a database of available Justice40 money available, which is searchable by state and region. While these are preexisting federal programs not specifically focused on frontline communities, there is movement to make such programs work for frontline communities going forward. Hopefully, Houston’s people will be able to live in a healthier environment through these hardworking efforts.
The Beacon Blog: Consider It Briefed
Is a Lack of Data the Reason for Alaska’s Lack of Environmental Justice Legislation?
By Kari Millstein, Staff Editor for the Vermont Journal of Environmental Law
May 3, 2024
Alaska does not have any environmental justice laws or policies, despite the growing threat of climate change and the detrimental effects of big extraction and industrial projects on small, rural communities. To convince policymakers that these types of laws and policies are necessary, advocates need access to data about the most affected communities in the state. There are tools built to indicate the need for environmental justice action. Still, they are not very reliable when it comes to Alaska, because accurate data about small, widespread, rural communities is hard and expensive to collect. Collecting independent, accurate data to improve mapping tools like the Climate Vulnerability Index (CVI) is a necessary step toward more effective advocacy for Alaska’s most environmentally vulnerable communities.
The EPA now recognizes the right of all communities to environmental justice, or “the same degree of protection from environmental and health hazards.” Environmental justice is not a new concept, but it is a growing concern due to the urgency of climate change. Many states are now adopting their own laws and policies regarding environmental justice. Though Alaska has many small, remote, largely indigenous communities that are vulnerable to climate change and exploitation by resource extraction companies and other industrial projects, it does not have any such laws.
The CVI is a new mapping tool that compiles data from over 180 indicators to illustrate the vulnerability of specific areas across the United States to climate change and other environmental harm. This tool provides actionable data that advocates and legislators can use to create new policies to address environmental justice and climate change in vulnerable communities. Much of the CVI’s information comes from census data. This makes sense because the federal government already uses census data to determine how much federal funding flows into the state, in addition to congressional seats, voter redistricting, and more. The CVI further analyzes this information so that federal and state agencies can make more informed decisions about protecting the most vulnerable communities.
Unfortunately, not all census data collected is accurate. The U.S. Census Bureau annually conducts surveys with small sample sizes in areas with low population density, which causes a high margin of error for individual communities in the area. Additionally, Alaska is particularly difficult to count accurately because of the extreme isolation of many communities. Many factors compound this difficulty. Alaska has an abundance of seasonal workers and military. This means that population counts may vary dramatically depending on the time of year they take place. Also, much of rural Alaska is still without reliable cell service and/or internet connection, traditional mailing addresses, and year-round accessibility. Fiercely independent rural communities, and especially Alaska Native communities often do not trust the government’s motives for collecting their data. Though these sentiments are not completely without merit, especially given the history of colonization and disenfranchisement of Indigenous populations, they do contribute to less accurate census data. For these reasons and many others, it is difficult for the CVI to accurately represent the depth of vulnerability of many communities.
To show state policymakers that environmental justice policies are necessary, advocates need access to reliable, independently collected data. Mapping tools provide agencies, advocates, and legislators with an approachable method for combining environmental and demographic factors from publicly available datasets. This allows for quick analysis of multiple factors that impact communities. “Better understanding of the intersections between growing climate risks and pre-existing, long-term health, social, environmental, and economic conditions is critical to effectively building climate resilience for everyone and deploying targeted adaptation efforts.” This issue is of increasing importance, as Alaska experiences increasing impacts of climate change on its largely rural population.
This proposal will have many legitimate critiques. For one thing, Alaska’s lack of legislative red tape for large corporations results in some very lucrative deals for the state. Implementing new environmental justice requirements that must be met before projects are approved would add complications to this process, and inevitably invite pushback both from the state and from interested corporations.
Another major criticism of this proposal is that plenty of rural Alaskan communities do not want the government or outside organizations to have their information, regardless of whether it would result in more public funding. Any data collection must be done openly and with the support of the community, if at all. Researchers must remember that the point of collecting this data is to have statistical support to push for a statewide environmental justice policy. Increased data collection and accuracy of information for vulnerable communities around the state is not a solution in and of itself. It is a means to achieving a strong, protective, statewide policy. It does not take the place of advocacy for Indigenous sovereignty or more environmentally protective approaches to private land use and regulation.
Improving the accuracy of data for tools like the CVI would allow them to reasonably be implemented in Alaska. Then advocates and legislators can use the CVI to support the argument for laws and policy addressing environmental justice in the state. Climate change makes the need for these policies not only a matter of justice but also one of urgency.
The Beacon Blog: Trail Notes
An Environmental Justice Attorney’s Journey: Trail Notes with Professor Mia Montoya Hammersley
By Kate Keener, Staff Editor for the Vermont Journal of Environmental Law
May 3, 2024
Will you please tell me about your upbringing and relationship with the environment?
I was lucky to grow up with great access to the outdoors. I don’t think I realized—until I was older and had moved away—the beautiful relationship I had with the land. My family is from southern New Mexico, and when I was young, I spent a lot of time there with them. But I grew up in Flagstaff, Arizona. Flagstaff is in this beautiful pine forest beneath an amazing mountain that is sacred to a lot of tribes. Many of the places I lived were within walking distance of national forest land.
As a kid, I had freedom to go and spend time outside, to go and explore. And my parents were outdoor educators, so I grew up backpacking and taking family river trips. My relationship with the land has been special, and I knew it was special, but when I was young, I didn’t realize how many people don’t have that same access.
What inspired you to pursue your master’s degree and law degree?
I started undergrad at Lewis and Clark college in Portland, Washington. While I was there, I was involved with Sierra Club’s Beyond Coal Campaign. After freshman year, I serendipitously transferred to a tiny international university in Switzerland. I was the first person in my immediate family to go to Europe and had never been before—it was very much a leap of faith.
Something that drew me to the school was that each semester every student—as part of their tuition and curriculum—went on a two-week academic travel trip led by a professor. I visited lots of places I wouldn’t have been comfortable traveling by myself and learned about many different places and cultures. The topic of my first academic travel was “The Environmental and Historical Significance of the Rhine River.” We hiked to the Rheinwaldhorn Glacier in the Swiss Alps and followed the river by boat and bus all the way to the Port of Rotterdam, where the river meets the ocean.
The Port of Rotterdam is Europe’s largest port. We drove through a part of the port which comprised of several square miles of coal being imported into Europe. After being part of the Beyond Coal Campaign, just seeing that was like: wow. I felt like I hadn’t made a dent! It was like nothing I’d ever seen before or since. It’s a memory that has stayed with me: seeing these huge, raw piles of coal that were going to be distributed throughout Europe. It was overwhelming as a young student and activist. I think they’re importing a lot less coal now, ten years later, so that’s good!
Through my travels and studies in Switzerland I realized I was best equipped to help with environmental issues in my own community. So, after graduating I returned home and completed a master’s in water policy at the University of Arizona. While completing my master’s, I took some classes at the law school, including a water law course. I felt law had so much potential to create positive impact.
Will you tell me about the work you’ve done around land and water rights?
I’ve typically worked at the intersection between Indian law and environmental law. Indian law is what grounds me. If we think about power dynamics in this country, everything comes back to control of land and resources.
My initial interest in law school was water focused. Coming out of my water policy graduate program, I was excited to be able to work on water settlements for two different tribes in Arizona. I was the tribes’ official counsel in the Gila River Adjudication, which is one of the state-run water adjudications in Arizona. It’s been ongoing since the 70s. It’s a very slow and arduous process for tribes. But securing water rights is one of the most important ways that tribes can build climate change resiliency. It felt meaningful to be part of that work.
What is a water adjudication?
Basically, the court examines who has water rights within each individual watershed. The Gila Watershed, for example, has several sub-tributaries. Every person who has water rights in each designated sub-watershed must appear—at some point—in the state adjudication. Tribes and municipalities, anyone who is a water rights holder in the particular sub-watershed, has to appear and adjudicate their water rights. There’s an Act, the McCarran Amendment, that waived sovereign immunity for federal reserved water rights, including tribal water rights, and allowed them to be administered and adjudicated under state law. Tribes are often the largest and most senior water rights holders in these adjudications, so the stakes are high for them. Water law is so technical and fascinating and infuriating!
Will you tell me about joyful aspects of your schooling or law career?
Many joyful moments have stemmed from the relationships I’ve created through my work, both with clients and co-workers. One thing I’m proud of: When I was in law school, my school didn’t have funding for students who accept unpaid public interest positions over the summer. I went out of state for my first summer to intern for an environmental organization and had to take out extra loans to make that happen. So, when summer ended, me, my now-partner, and another one of our good friends founded an organization that fundraises to provide summer stipends to students who want to pursue social justice or public interest work. That org has continued, and they have a fundraiser every year. Last year we were able to establish an endowment.
Will you tell me about your first months as Environmental Justice Clinic Director?
Coming from New Mexico, I was really enamored with the landscape of Vermont and was just getting used to the new setting. I was impressed with the students and how excited you all are. There’s so much alignment of values at this school, interest in social justice, and students really want to use their legal careers to make the world a better place. It’s nice to reconnect with that energy and remember why I started on this path. And it’s exciting to build upon the EJ legacy at VLGS and connect with clients and continue the good work that’s already begun.
What do you think about environmental justice and whether we’re making progress?
I think there is change more than anything. Many critical race theorists I admire talk about the danger of subscribing to this idea that there has been continuous progress. When considering the daily experiences of those most impacted, I’m not sure how much has improved over the past couple decades. In terms of resources and awareness, though, I have seen change and improvements even in the last ten years.
Environmental justice is a difficult field for many reasons. Our wins often aren’t big and splashy like you might see in other fields of law. Our wins are often small things like making clients or community members feel empowered, being able to assist with storytelling, or helping people navigate a system that intimidates them.
It’s been important for me not to define my career based on external-facing wins and to focus more on the relationships and the day-to-day ways the work can change people’s lives for the better.
What advice do you have for people interested in collaborating with communities that have been disproportionately harmed?
I would encourage everyone in legal practice to take time to understand how their own lived experiences can affect the relationships they build with their clients. If we come from a more privileged position, that comes up when building relationships with communities who have experienced a lot of harm. This work is deeply personal and requires self-reflection. I encourage everyone to explore the frameworks of community lawyering, movement lawyering, and trauma-informed lawyering for frameworks to navigate these dynamics.
Did your introduction to EJ occur all-at-once in a specific occurrence or organically over time?
It was an organic process over time. My family in New Mexico comes from a community that was heavily impacted by the Trinity Nuclear Test of 1945. My grandparents were children when the bomb was detonated. Their community was about 45 miles from the blast site and has a high cancer rate and other ongoing impacts from radiation exposure. We lost my grandfather to pancreatic cancer when I was a teenager. I wish I had had more time to talk with him about his life and his experiences.
I gradually began to put the pieces together and understood that what my family and community had experienced were connected to things I was learning about in school and seeing in other contexts.
Were there any notable shifts in how you think about or approach EJ work?
During law school, I thought that I would do higher profile litigation. After having a wide variety of experiences in different workplaces, I realized there are many different roles for lawyers. Different communities need different things. Now, I strive to be a lawyer who is on tap, rather than on top, and to build an ongoing partnership and relationship with my clients—rather than simply coming in at a moment of crisis.
Are there any other thoughts you’d like to share, Mia?
Right now, I know a lot of people and students struggle with feeling hopeful in this area of law and feeling hopeful in the world. I came of age during the Obama presidency years where the message we received was that progress was this constant, inevitable destiny. And then the 2016 election happened when I was a 2L. I graduated into a legal environment that was very different than I was anticipating. It was an intense space to step into.
Something I draw on for my work is—you often hear Native people refer to seven generations—the concept that everything we do now, we do it for the next seven generations. For me, trying to keep that idea and longevity in mind is helpful for maintaining hopefulness. My people also traditionally have had several world-ending events occur already. For me, it’s helpful to remember that change is inevitable, and even when it feels like everything is falling apart, it’s a special time to be alive as well.
Fiction Recommendation:
The Hummingbird’s Daughter by Luis Alberto Urrea.
Non-fiction Recommendations:
Malcolm X’s autobiography; all of Vine Deloria’s writings; How We Show Up by Mia Birdsong.
Podcast Recommendation:
All My Relations
The Beacon Blog: Consider It Briefed
Sal Si Puedes: Environmental Racism Live and Well in the Heart of One of California’s Largest Cities
By Isaiah Gonzales, Staff Editor for the Vermont Journal of Environmental Law
May 3, 2024
Barrio Logan is nestled in the center of San Diego, California. According to the city’s website, it is considered “the epicenter of Mexican American culture and art.” Given, according to the census, 80% of the residents of Barrio Logan identify as Latinx. However, through all its marketing campaigns of the area and its exploitation of the rich culture and art, the city fails to address the environmental racism that exists within Barrio Logan. It’s true that the Latinx culture is deeply entrenched throughout the streets of the community, but alongside it, the remains of racist city policies still exist leading to the highest rates of asthma and cancer in the San Diego region.
“Not in Our Backyard,” an Account of How Barrio Logan Came to be
During the 1910’s and 1920’s, as Mexico faced a revolution of its own, Barrio Logan became a sanctuary for many Mexican citizens. The neighborhood continued to boom while focusing on the development of family residential areas and small businesses—including anything from local grocery stores to panaderias. Yet, this all came to a halt with the commencement of World War II and the expansion of the War effort. In 1944, National Steel and Shipbuilding Company (NASSCO) built a production shipyard in the little neighborhood north of Thirty-Second Street—Barrio Logan—to assist with building navy ships. The development of this shipyard began the environmental detriment of the barrio.
As city officials saw the “potential” in neighborhood, they began to craft city ordinances to allow for other industrial complexes to come into Barrio Logan. As researchers at the University of San Diego stated, “The community of Barrio Logan—primarily made up of immigrants—settled in the area in the early 1900’s, only to face an influx of polluting industries in their neighborhood when the City of San Diego rezoned the area to allow junk yards and metal plating shops.” However, the city ordinances to turn the neighborhood into a war-time industrial melting pot did not stop. Ultimately, leading to the development of Interstate 5 and the Coronado Bridge, which cut directly through Barrio Logan.
With such a make-up of the neighborhood and blatant disregard by the City of San Diego, it is unmoving to read as of 2003, about 3,000,000 lbs. of toxic pollutants dumped into Barrio Logan.
Sin Aire: Health Conditions as a Result of the Environmental Racism
Somehow in 2024, for many, it is shocking to hear of the high rates of asthma and cancer in Barrio Logan because of the environmental racism. Yet, for many immigrant and Latinx communities, including my own, this has become the norm. Barrio Logan, among many other barrios in California, ranks in the top 5% of most polluted areas in California.
Residents of Barrio Logan live at an 85% chance of developing cancer. And yet, nothing has been done to redress the issue. The City of San Diego thrives of the façade of implementing “progressive policies” and presenting that they care about their constituents, while on the other hand Latinx residents perish from city ordinances leading to their demise. Until something is done to truly address the toxins from NASSCO and the freeways, residents in the area will suffer.
Failure of “White Environmentalism”
As expected, Latinx people make up 5% of the legal community. And thus, there is a need for the legal community to push for environmental reform in places like Barrio Logan. Yet, historically environmentalism has overlooked the plight of people of color and focused more on trees and animals. In no way is this discounting those efforts, but time and time again issues such as the environmental racism in Barrio Logan are left to the people to fix.
Entrenched within the legal fabric of California are environmental laws such as the California Environmental Quality Act (CEQA), but due to the disparity of latines in the profession they are unused to protect neighborhoods like Barrio Logan. As a result, many legal arguments go unutilized and environmental racism persists in our backyards.
The Beacon Blog: Between the Lines
Building a Local Economy: Community-Based Climate Solutions
By Hannah Ziomek, Staff Editor for the Vermont Journal of Environmental Law
May 3, 2024
“You can’t find proper solutions to the climate crisis without addressing environmental justice.” These are the words of Chris Wood, outgoing executive director of Building a Local Economy (BALE), a nonprofit organization right here in South Royalton. I sat down with Chris recently to talk about what BALE does and how community work can help with the fight against climate change and economic inequality. BALE’s mission is to engage with the community about the reasons for our failing climate and extreme economic inequality through intelligent programming that explores systemic issues; to build a base of transformative leaders and increase that base through connecting with those aware of the challenges we face; and build new projects, that sustain a “new, resilient, community-driven experience of the world and our place in it.”
The way Chris sees it, building local capacity is the mechanism we can use to help each other in the climate crisis. However, legally, the state of Vermont, as many other states do, puts barriers up to self-sustaining, climate-friendly, community models. Last year, BALE hosted a programming series about this issue, Hoodwinked in the Greenwashed Mountains, which highlighted false solutions that the state of Vermont and environmental groups in the state of Vermont were putting forward. One of these false solutions is a relevant subject matter of current proposed legislation.
Vermont lawmakers are moving forward with this type of legislation which highlights false solutions, and if it passes, the state of Vermont will be committing to requiring utilities to provide 100% renewable energy. An estimated 50% of Vermont’s energy sourcing comes from hydropower company, HydroQuebec, the largest power utility in Canada. Hydropower is a renewable source of energy that uses the natural flow of moving water to generate electricity. However, the fact that Vermont considers HydroQuebec a true renewable energy source is one of the false environmental solutions that Chris refers to. Although many New England states use power from the company, Vermont is the only one which considers that energy renewable, and allows it to fall within the state renewable energy standard.
This power sourcing to Vermont raises climate concerns, as well as major environmental justice concerns. HydroQuebec floods major quantities of forest lands, releasing large amounts of carbon and methane into the atmosphere, contributing to greenhouse gas emissions, in greater amounts than some non-renewable energy sources. These emissions contribute to the climate change impacts that state renewable energy standards are supposed to be avoiding. Impacts of climate change are starting to be seen in Vermont at the local level, with devastating floods impacting communities, and causing economic strife over this past summer.
However, as Chris explained to me, the mega-dams built by HydroQuebec also cause environmental injustices to indigenous communities in the area. The company has wiped out indigenous villages and communities to build the dams and flooded their land. For those that do remain in the area, the decaying material sickens the communities, which can lead to long-term health impacts. So, this hydropower is not only the source of greenhouse gas emissions, but the source of environmental injustices to native communities. BALE has partnered with 350VT to inform the public about these issues, rally more people for resistance, and put more pressure on the Vermont legislature, as they consider their new renewable energy standard.
As Chris told me at the beginning of our talk, in community “we still need to speak truth,” and that is what BALE has been all about. Being transparent about the actions of large corporations and the government structures and laws that support them, is a valuable community tool, especially in the fight against environmental injustices. In Vermont, there is a tendency to greenwash, and believe that we are ahead of the game, when in reality, discriminatory practices and false solutions are still built into legislation. Maintaining strong community resiliency not only helps in times of crisis but helps strengthen effective communication and relationship building that fosters the trust and transparency needed to form resistance movements. Community-based solutions can help to truly create a Green Vermont.
The Beacon Blog: Consider It Briefed
President Biden’s Justice40 Initiative Could Be Better Implemented
By Erin Evans, Staff Editor for the Vermont Journal of Environmental Law
May 3, 2024
Critics of President Joe Biden’s highly-publicized Justice40 Initiative campaign to distribute federal funding to marginalized communities struggling with pollution and other negative environmental impacts say the program could be better managed. The Government Accountability Office released a report recently that found that the Biden Administration’s Justice40 Initiative “lacked clear guidance at times and needs to assess how the effort is being implemented across agencies.” This report outlines a number of recommendations and suggestions for better management and implementation across the board.
During his first week in office, President Biden issued Executive Order 14008 “Tackling the Climate Crisis at Home and Abroad.” This Executive Order importantly established the Justice40 Initiative, which directs 40% of the overall benefits of Federal investments bookmarked for climate change initiatives—including investments in clean energy and energy efficiency; clean transit; affordable and sustainable housing; training and workforce development; remediation and reduction of pollution; and the development of clean water infrastructure—to flow to disadvantaged communities.
This vast undertaking by the Biden Administration seeks to incorporate “key practices” to “better ensure accountability, transparency, and progress toward achieving the goal of the initiative.” White House Council on Environmental Quality Chair, Brenda Mallory, has previously estimated that nearly 470 programs, worth billions of dollars in federal annual spending, are being reworked to meet the goals of this Initiative.
The Initiative has already seen some success, with over half of the Justice40 Initiative’s pilot programs responding to a recent GAO survey that found the guidance and tools useful in developing their respective plans. However, the congressional watchdog warned that the President’s office has failed to set up any type of oversight entity to manage and judge Justice40’s progress—i.e., defining goals, sharing results, and setting up a scorecard system to manage and oversee those goals and results over time.
The GAO report has made 15 recommendations to the White House to improve the overall management of the Justice40 Initiative. Currently, the President’s office has neither agreed nor disagreed with those recommendations.
Other critics claim that the White House’s environmental justice program may not shrink racial disparities regarding air pollution due in part to possible legal challenges. When the Biden Administration initially designed the program, the issue of race was omitted from the process of calculating who would benefit. The Supreme Court recently struck down race-based affirmative action in college admissions. Many believe that this ruling could flow into federal environmental programs. “Unless carefully implemented, the program may not work as hoped and could even widen the racial gap by improving the air in whiter communities, which may also be disadvantaged in some ways, faster than in communities of color,” according to a recent peer-review study. This study compared the current trajectory in air quality improvements with two alternative scenarios in which air quality in disadvantaged communities improved at double or quadruple the overall rate. The study found that even if pollution improved faster in these broadly defined disadvantaged communities, the pollution would remain significantly worse for people of color.
According to Julian Marshall, a professor of civil and environmental engineering at the University of Washington, “the results we have here are one piece of evidence that suggests if you don’t account for race/ethnicity, then you won’t be addressing the disparities by race/ethnicity.”
Ultimately, the Justice40 Initiative, while a valiant undertaking by the Biden Administration and its related federal agencies, still has work to do to ensure that pollution rates factor race within its calculations for federal funding to marginalized communities and to implement a better oversight system for assessing the Initiative’s programs. The jury is still out on President Biden’s Justice40 Initiative. Only time will tell whether the Initiative truly has been successful within environmental justice communities.
