Trail Notes – Vermont Journal of Environmental Law

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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: Trail Notes

Fredrick Ole Ikayo’s Trail Notes

Edited by Chase Ford, Kai Hardy, and Stephanie Piccininni

February 13, 2023

Interviewee: Fredrick Ole Ikayo (VLGS ’23), LLM Fellow at the Vermont Law and Graduate School Environmental Justice Clinic

Q: What does environmental justice mean to you?

A: Environment Justice (“EJ”) is thefair treatment and meaningful involvementof all people in the development, implementation, and enforcement of Environmental laws regardless of race, color, income, or national origin. Additionally, true community engagement to ownership is paramount to amplifying community voices, especially those excluded from democratic voices and power.

Q: Tell me about where you grew up?

A: I am from the Maasai tribe, an indigenous and semi-nomadic ethnic tribe in Tanzania. My paternal family lives in the Ngorongoro Conservation Area (“NCA”). We use the land as a shared resource, and the cattle economy is essential to provide for our basic needs: food, clothing, and shelter.

As a child, I would assist in livestock herding as part of our traditional lifestyle. I enjoyed the breathtaking landscape and the blend of scenery while grazing. The natural surroundings, greenery, open skies, and wildlife evoked my tranquility and calmness. Overall, the grazing experience was a form of mindfulness and connection with nature.

Over the years, restrictive laws on where to graze and the prohibition on crop cultivation for our subsistence have impacted our way of life and livelihoods. Additionally, the impact of climate change has caused disruptions in the form of precipitation patterns and rising temperatures leading to prolonged droughtscausing disruptions to the delicate balance of the ecosystem we depend on.

Q: What is the most pressing environmental justice issue in Tanzania?

A: The pressing environmental injustice that has recently attracted global outcry is the unlawful eviction of approximately 150,000 indigenous Maasai, including 70,000 in Loliondo and 80,000 in Ngorongoro, from their ancestral land, which the Maasai have stewarded for centuries. The NCA was declared a World Heritage by UNESCO in 1979.

But the “fortress conservation model,” premised on the idea that biodiversity protection is best achieved by the exclusion of people, has displaced and excluded us from our ancestral land, denying us meaningful involvement and power in matters affecting our cultural survival, cultural identity, and livelihoods. It is like a resource curse; in this context, the indigenous Maasai have been on the negative receiving end in an area rich in biodiversity. We are paying the brutal price of evictions to pave the way for tourism and conservation.

Q: What steps are being taken, if any, to solve that issue? What are the challenges to solving it?

A: The Tanzanian government has resorted to “voluntary relocation.” However, how impartial the process is to relocate the Maasai from the NCA has raised many concerns and questions. Among these concerns is a lack of free, prior, and informed consent.

The challenges and predicaments of the Maasai in the NCA are from a historical standpoint and relate to the unique, internationally significant conservation status and tourist status accorded to our homelands.

Q: Why did you go to law school?

A: As a child, I learned the importance of ancestral lands and experienced the impact of environmental degradation. I saw how our people faced severe human rights violations inflicted on them by different people and government authorities. I lived through prolonged droughts for most of my life and had to travel long distances for grazing.

As a result of such violations, I became more passionate about going to law school and practicing law. I eventually attained a law degree, which served as a catalyst to open my eyes to a broader interest in environmental law. An interest that has become personal is to advocate for the interests of minority communities, including that of the Maasai, in preserving the natural course of our land, environment, and livelihood.

Q: Describe your environmental justice work at Vermont Law and Graduate School?

A: At the EJC, I co-teach and work on cases addressing industrial agriculture, supervise student attorneys, support work with Environmental Justice communities in Vermont, and research state, national, and international environmental justice laws and policies.

Q: Do you feel like environmental justice receives enough attention at Vermont Law and Graduate School?

A: As one of the few EJ Clinics in the nation, VLGS’s Environmental Justice Clinic provides a supportive and enriching environment to help clinicians grow academically and prepare them for successful careers, including in environmental justice advocacy. While the Clinic is seeking new staff, the school has supported interim Clinic Director and Associate Professor Mike Harris, Assistant Professor and Interim Senior Attorney Christophe Courchesne, and I (Fellow Fredrick Ole Ikayo), who have been instrumental in carrying out the Clinic’s work during this transitional period. Their mentorship fosters academic growth and clinical practice and helps student attorneys develop essential practical skills and critical thinking. VLGS has now begun a search for a new EJ Clinic Director and Staff Attorney starting in the fall of 2023.

Q: What advice would you give to individuals who are interested in working on environmental justice issues?

A: I would advise a prospective lawyer interested in working in the EJ field that it calls for a dedication to empower communities (community lawyering). In some instances, a traditional lawyer might be passionate about helping an EJ community but may fail to give a community a sense of their power, thereby creating dependency instead of interdependency. Power shifting and self-determination are paramount to EJ communities for real lasting changes. For instance, this occurs when the EJ community identifies grievances and develops demands, solutions, and strategies for tackling a problem. As a result, the community becomes an “integral part” of developing, implementing, and identifying solutions to its problems. And the lawyer(s) takes a “collaborative role” with the community in achieving those solutions. Building trust, listening skills, and learning from EJ communities are essential tools in pursuit of social justice goals.

The Beacon Blog: Trail Notes

Arielle V. King’s Trail Notes

Edited by Kai Hardy, Michelle Amidzich, and Andrea Salazar

March 30, 2022

“I really believe that every single person has a role to play in fighting climate change and improving the state of our world.”

Interviewee: Arielle V. King (VLS ’21), Environmental Justice Staff Attorney at the Environmental Law Institute; Visiting Professor at Bard College at Simon’s Rock; and Content Creator at Intersectional Environmentalist

Q: Please tell me about where you grew up and your first experiences with the environment.

A: I grew up in Albany, NY; specifically, the South End which is considered an environmental justice (EJ) community because of the number of public transportation ports-trains, highways, bus depots, and things that were close to where I grew up. Most of my classmates had severe asthma. For about 8 years there were trains that carried crude oil (we called them bomb trains) less than ten feet from a huge housing project and an elementary school. Looking back, I did not think about environmental justiceI didn’t even know that term until college.

From a young age, I was passionate about the environment. I got involved with making sure my school was recycling, coordinating Earth Day rallies, helping create community gardens, and other things. I also spent a lot of time outdoors because of my mentor, a community leader and activist named Brother Yusef. Most people I grew up with didn’t have many opportunities to cultivate an appreciation for the natural world. He’s since passed, but he worked for the Department of Environmental Conservation (DEC) for the State of New York, and his mission was to help inner-city kids and kids of color cultivate a love for the outdoors. I recently took part in a ribbon-cutting ceremony dedicating a walking trail to him in the city. Because of him, I also spent a week on the Hudson River learning about river ecology on a working sloop and spent a few weeks at an environmental education camp in the Catskills.

Q: Why did you decide to go to law school?

A: As a kid, my dad called me “lawyer girl.” I always wanted to be a lawyer, but I was always going back and forth about the type of law I wanted to practice. I’m a singer so I thought I wanted to practice entertainment law for a while. But, ultimately, my passion for the environment prevailed, which led me to environmental law.

In high school, I took an advanced placement course in environmental science where I learned that environmental studies included the study of the planet and people (and the ways that we impact each other). That was eye-opening for me. From there, I studied environmental and sustainability studies with a concentration in political ecology in college, where I completed the joint-degree program with Vermont Law School (VLS). In four years, I got my bachelor’s from Bard College at Simon’s Rock and my Master’s in Environmental Law and Policy from VLS. Once I started law school, I did not envision myself as a litigator. But I knew I wanted to use my law degree as a tool to advocate on behalf of communities experiencing environmental injustice.

Q: Taking a step back to your time in law school, I wanted to ask specifically about the Environmental Justice Law Society (EJLS) and some of the drivers behind why you founded it.

A: Of course. So first, I did not found it by myself. Sherri Williams White (VLS ’18), Ryan Mitchell (VLS ’19), Jameson Davis (VLS ’21), Maggie Galka (VLS ’18), Jess Debski (VLS ’20), Kyron Williams (VLS ’19), and I founded it together. When I started my master’s program, I thought, “Okay, I’m at one of the top environmental law schools in the country. Why isn’t there an environmental justice focus? Why can’t I just take a bunch of classes on environmental justice and have that be my thing?” At the time, it wasn’t an option.

When I got to Vermont Law School, there was one environmental justice course taught during the summer. If you were a traditional JD student, you couldn’t take it. I just happened to be a student during the year we had a visiting faculty professor named Kathleen Faulk. Professor Faulk had just completed her time working with the Department of Health and Human Services to administer human services to Flint, Michigan during the Flint Water Crisis. So, the whole class was essentially just talking about health law, public health, environmental justice, and environmental racism. Professor Faulk assigned each student a different stakeholder role from the City of Flint, and we presented each week based on that role. This course aligned with my prior experience writing my college senior thesis on the Flint Water Crisis, so I was essentially the class historian.

I was in that class with Sherri (who worked for the EPA for many years before law school), Jameson, and Kyron (who taught physics at Florida A&M before coming to VLS). The group of us thought, “We’ve got to do something about this lack of environmental justice advocacy on campus.” Since Sherri organized the previous year’s Solutions Conference, which was focused on environmental justice, we also knew it was clear that the school yearned for more environmental justice education opportunities. Building from that momentum is how we started the Environmental Justice Law Society at Vermont Law School.

We got our first grant from a local foundation to host programs and educate our campus about environmental justice. So, we were giving presentations and sharing our personal connections to environmental justice along with the history of the movement and the way environmental injustice impacted certain communities in Vermont. Soon, EJLS started noticing state representatives at our presentations taking a lot of notes because they wanted to learn more about environmental justice.

EJLS then started presenting at schools. One of the most exciting events we participated in was the Hanover High School Martin Luther King, Jr. Celebration in 2019 where I and two other EJLS Board members were keynote speakers. We talked about the history of the environmental justice movement, including MLK’s role in the nascent years, in front of 700 high school students. We printed giant posters with pictures and timelines and asked for student participation. Because I’m a board member of Positive Tracks, a national nonprofit based in Hanover, NH, I recently spoke to a group of students who said, “I remember you gave this presentation when I was a freshman and it helped me understand so much!” And that right there is why I do community education and outreach.

Since then, the environmental justice presence on campus has grown tremendously. I’m proud of the way that EJLS has evolved in such a short amount of time. The first conference we hosted in 2018 was in New Haven, CT as a partnership with Yale’s School of Public Health and School of the Environment. The following year, we added Duke and hosted the conference in North Carolina, focusing on Hog CAFOs (Concentrated Animal Feeding Operations), where we included a very impactful tour of the area. In 2021, we added Howard and Shaw University and hosted the conference virtually. The plan is to keep adding at least one school every year until it becomes a national conference. I appreciate the passion for the organization’s work. And if it weren’t for us, a passionate group of students that came together, the EJ clinic or the Climate Justice Practicum might not exist. There are many things that worked out in a beautiful way as a result of this passion.

Q: What is something that not everyone knows about environmental justice that you have come to know?

A: One thing I want people to recognize is that EJ must also include advocacy and protections for incarcerated people and communities with disabilities. I want to find ways to include these groups in more EJ conversations. Riker’s Island, for example, was built on top of toxic waste. And lead is still on the walls and in the pipes of prisons across this country. The drinking water is not of sufficient quality. And Black and Brown populations predominantly occupy prisons, so just thinking about the impacts of that and how it contributes to environmental racism is important. And considerations for communities with disabilities are frequently forgotten during environmental hazard mitigation and planning, and many other aspects of environmentalism. We can’t forget about those who are already overlooked. That’s one of the most important aspects of environmental justice. Environmental protection, advocacy, and decision-making must be intersectional and inclusive to ensure we are not leaving anyone out.

Q: How does environmental justice differ from environmentalism?

A: The EJ movement began as a result of unequal enforcement of environmental laws and the dumping of toxic waste into BIPOC and low-income neighborhoods across the United States. The movement for environmental justice also exists as a result of the lack of inclusion, and often blatant erasure, of people of color in mainstream environmentalism. Now, we’re finally starting to see national recognition of what EJ leaders and advocates have been telling us for decades, and the environmental movement as a whole is finally coming to terms with the ways environmental racism has been perpetuated in decision-making and conservation efforts.

Environmental justice is rooted in civil rights and the idea that regardless of race, national origin, and income status, all people deserve a healthy environment to live, work, play, and pray in. This extends mainstream environmentalism’s view of the environment beyond mere protection of the natural world and includes human and social elements, like the existence of racism, that are inextricably linked. It saddens me that the summer of 2020 had to happen for environmental nonprofits and institutions to recognize this link. The U.S. conservation movement is built upon a notion that before colonization, the country was an idyllic Eden untouched by man, which erases the existence and justified the displacement of millions of Indigenous people from the landscape.

Environmental justice simply amplifies the faults of the environmental movement and tries to rectify them in the most inclusive way possible. Environmentalism must be intersectional.

Q: What was the most valuable lesson that you’ve learned since graduating from law school?

A: Well, it’s all so new, and it’s hard to say. Throughout law school, I participated in activities and programs that helped me remember my “Why?” I came to law school to help people and participating in all these extracurricular activities was me reminding myself of my “Why?” Law school’s tough. If I hadn’t had these opportunities to be active in my community and contribute to something greater, I probably would’ve lost myself. And I’m reaping the benefits of that extra work right now (post-grad). I made a lot of connections during law school because I was very intentional about networking with people that were doing the things I was interested in pursuing. I’ve cultivated a strong professional network of mentors and people that I can reach out to. Being involved in the early development of the school’s EJ clinic, co-founding EJLS, and working on all the projects that came out of it, including Rural Environmental Justice Opportunities Informed by Community Expertise (REJOICE), helped me gain important skills that aren’t ordinarily taught in law school. If it weren’t for that I wouldn’t even have this job.

Q: What do you hope your crowning achievement will be?

A: I believe that I was put on this planet to help people. So, I will feel the greatest sense of accomplishment when I can continuously see the impact of the work that I’ve done, the people I’ve helped, the people I’ve shared information with, and the people I’ve educated. I’ve shared book recommendations that have opened people’s eyes and encouraged them to get active in the fight for a more environmentally just and equitable world. That’s what means the most to me. I really just want to build a career that is contributing to the environmental justice movement: the movement for environmental liberation and self-determination of communities that have been environmentally overburdened, politically overlooked, and altogether underserved. I have no idea what it is yet, but those are some of the elements of what I hope my crowning achievement will be.

Q: What is the last piece of advice you would like to share?

A: I really believe that every single person has a role to play in fighting climate change and improving the state of our world. We can all do it in different ways. I have a hard time with people saying that you have to go to college to contribute to this fight. And I know that I’m very privileged in the fact that I’ve had so much education. But I don’t think I’m different from anyone else. That’s why I try hard to share the books that I’ve read in school and the resources I’ve learned from. I’m really passionate about breaking down the ivory tower, or at least making it shorter and easier to access, because I just think that’s really the only way we’re going to build a better societyby getting everyone involved in the process. So, that means artists, architects, or developerseveryonehas to be involved to get it done.

The Beacon Blog: Trail Notes

Kendall Keelen’s Trail Notes

Edited by Andrea Salazar and Beckett McGowan

September 29, 2021

Kendall Keelen (VLS JD ’22) had strong women role models in her cousin and mother, who helped her navigate some of her earliest encounters with advocacy and the environment. Kendall’s cousin helped her prepare for a third-grade justice system lesson that made Kendall want to be a lawyer. Armed with hours of preparation, opening and closing statements, a yellow notepad, and an updo, Kendall prosecuted Jack for trespass against the Giant in a mock trial. Kendall described herself as “not the quiet kid” but “definitely not the troublemaker.” “I kept saying Objection!’ in the middle of trial . . . I had said it so many different times that the teacher asked me to stop . . . but I didn’t stop! If I say objection I’m allowed to say why I’m saying objection!” Kendall recalls that the mock trial was the only time her teacher wrote her name on the board. Despite her teacher’s disciplinary warning, Kendall still walked away from the experience with a newfound passion for lawyering.

Growing up, Kendall attributed a sudden increase in roadkill on her town’s highways to the new housing that started replacing the forest. It was this connection that first made her question whether the unfettered housing development was right. When Kendall said the practice made her upset, Kendall recounted her mother’s questions:

Mom: What do you want to do about it?

Kendall: I don’t know what to do.

Mom: Well, who do you think makes those decisions? The Congressman or the President?

Kendall: No, it’s this town.

Mom: Exactly. And who runs the town?

Kendall: The Mayor!

Mom: Okay so what do you think you should do then?

Even though Kendall did not pay a visit to the Mayor, this was her first lesson in a systematic mapping of power dynamics necessary to create changea skill Kendall still uses in her work.

Kendall’s cousin and mother taught her valuable lessons on community and pursuing her interests. Her passion for the law and environment came together in undergrad when Kendall began exploring environmental justice issues. By the time Kendall started looking into law programs, environmental justice was the driving force for her career path.

Kendall recalls a crucial moment in law school when she chose to center multiply-marginalized voices rather than her own. Kendall and Jameson Davis (VLS JD ’21) co-Chaired the Environmental Justice Law Society (EJLS) at Vermont Law School. In an EJLS planning session for an Environmental Justice Symposium, Kendall said “I am, regardless of financial state, a white woman . . . I don’t need to be the center of attention. I am going to be behind the scenes.” Kendall made space for diverse voices to speak at the Symposium, a move her white and white-passing peers followed. When asked, have you ever had to have a tough conversation with someone who wasn’t centering diverse voices, Kendall answered: “the toughest conversation [I had] was with myself, honestly.” Kendall recommends being continuously self-aware of your positionality, at the same time, “do not deflect the hard and meaningful work.”

Kendall’s most recent summer experience was as a Glynn D. Key Fellow at the Southern Environmental Law Center (Center). She brought legal writing and research skills she had honed at Vermont Law School during EJLS, the Climate Justice Practicum, and the Environmental Justice Clinic with mentors like Marianne Engelman-Lado and Amy-Laura Cahn. A tool Kendall swears can reveal a justice angle to any issue is the Environmental Justice Screening and Mapping Tool (EJSCREEN Tool) by the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency. But the best skills she gained derived from the degree of autonomy she had in her projects, thanks, in part, to the empowering and inclusive environment at the Center.

The sense of community Kendall found at VLS helped her find the confidence to be more transparent with others. Asking questions in class and being open about events going on in her personal life translated well to her professional mindset. Addressing mental health in the workplace benefitted the people and projects Kendall worked with.

As a parting note, Kendall recommends networking “just talk to people, they are more than willing to talk to you.” Also remember that “not everyone has the access to the law, which is very important in environmental justice.” From a mentor, Kendall was told “writing and public speaking are up and coming [skills]. . . . We are the legal filters and translators to the public. We have a tendency though to find safety in jargon and security in complexity.” What this means to Kendall is that “in order to move the law” and break down communication barriers “within ourselves” so that “we can better explain them to others.”