Alongside Dr. Camila Bustos, Assistant Professor of Law at the Elisabeth Haub School of Law at Pace University, and Monica Iyer, Clinical Fellow and Senior Lecturing Fellow at Duke University School of Law, along with other experts in the field, Earth Refuge was invited to submit a written brief to the Senate Committee for their review.
Members of a Native American tribe have reportedly become the first climate migrants in the United States (US) as they begin a process of relocating from the sinking island their ancestors made home two centuries ago.
The Jean Charles Choctaw Nation has in the last few weeks started leaving Isle de Jean Charles – a slender island around 80 miles southwest of New Orleans in the US state of Louisiana – as part of a long-planned resettlement program.
When the US government issued US$48 million grant to resettle residents of the island in 2016, it was said to be the first-ever federally funded effort in the country to move an entire community due to global warming.
Many residents have already left the island, and the 100-or-so who remain are overwhelmingly of Native American descent.
The Jean Charles Choctaw Nation descends from three Native American tribes that fled to the island to escape forced relocation under the Indian Removal Act passed by the US government in 1830.
Since 1995, however, the island that was once a refuge for the community has lost 98% of its land mass – a 320-acre skeleton of what it used to be.
The only road connecting Jean Charles to the mainland often floods due to high winds or the tide, leaving the community stranded.
The tribe says that the resettlement program, which has seen many residents move to the town of Schriever around 60 kilometres northwest, has been beset by years of “delays, confusion, and stress” caused by state and federal governments.
According to the tribe, the resettlement has also been carried out “without meaningful consultation with, or the explicit consent from” its leadership. This is something the tribe says is “concerning” for many other nations and communities around the US that may soon go through a similar process.
In September 2021, after four years of negotiations, Australia’s Queensland government returned four national parks to the Aboriginal Eastern Kuku Yalanji peoples. Spanning some 400,000 acres, these parks include the UNESCO World Heritage-listed Daintree Rainforest – the world’s oldest remaining rainforest.
The Eastern Kuku Yalanji peoples and the Queensland government will jointly manage the land for the foreseeable future. However, the overall goal is for the Eastern Kuku Yalanji peoples to become the sole and autonomous proprietors of their Indigenous land.
“The Eastern Kuku Yalanji people’s culture is one of the world’s oldest living cultures,” says Meaghan Scanlon MP, Queensland’s Minister for Environment, the Great Barrier Reef, and Science and Youth Affairs. “This agreement recognises their right to own and manage their Country, to protect their culture, and to share it with visitors as they become leaders in the tourism industry.”[1]
A month after Australia returned land to the Eastern Kuku Yalanji peoples, the United States (US) government restored full federal protective rights to the Bears Ears and Grand Staircase-Escalante monuments in southern Utah.[2] The previous administration, which was seeking to extract the land’s fossil fuels, had drastically reduced the size of the Bears Ears monument by up to 85%, as well as halving the area of the protected Grand Staircase-Escalante. This was the single largest rollback of public lands protections in the history of the US. These lands, which span more than 3 million acres, are vital pieces of culture and history for many Indigenous peoples, including the Hopi, Navajo, Uintah and Ouray Ute, Ute Mountain Ute, and Zuni tribes.[3]
What’s more, the US government and local officials continue to bolster protections for Native lands which facilitate the transition of ownership back to Indigenous communities. In December 2020, the Trump administration signed legislation which initiated the relinquishment of more than 18,000 acres of the National Bison Range to the Salish and Kootenai tribes. [4] In October 2021, around five acres of land were transferred to the Rhode Island Narragansett tribe. It was on this same land that the Indigenous Narragansett peoples survived near-annihilation at the hands of English colonisers in 1675.[5]
As a result of land reconciliation, not only can Indigenous communities return as rightful owners of their Native lands, they can also improve local environmental protection efforts.
The Positive Impacts of Land Reconciliation
For Australia’s Eastern Kuku Yalanji people, reclaiming their land is the first step towards long-term, sustainable social and economic growth.
“Our goal is to establish a foundation to provide confident and competent people with pathways and opportunities for mentoring, training, apprenticeships, work experience, and employment for our Eastern Kuku Yalanji Bama,” says Eastern Kuku Yalanji Traditional Owners Negotiating Committee Member Chrissy Grant. “[The goal is] to fill positions from a wide range of skilled trades, land and sea management, hospitality, tourism, and research so that we are in control of our own destinies.”
The Eastern Kuku Yalanji tribe has lived sustainably on these lands for some 50,000 years. The Kuku Yalanji Aboriginal culture is based on a deep respect for nature, with a heavy dependency on the ecosystem’s natural cycle. Their Indigenous expertise is vital in implementing sustainable conservation efforts, as well as protecting natural resources against climate stressors.
According to Meaghan Scanlon, these national parks will “protect important Aboriginal cultural sites, diverse ecosystems (including rainforests, woodlands, wetlands and mangroves), and form part of the Wet Tropics World Heritage Area, which is recognised as the second most irreplaceable World Heritage site on Earth.”
In Montana, the Salish and Kootenai tribes have a long history with managing local bison ranges, and their approach is seemingly more beneficial than previous federal tactics. “We treat the buffalo with less stress, and handle them with more respect,” says Tom McDonald, an Indigenous person and Fish and Wildlife Division Manager for both tribes.[6] The Salish and Kootenai tribes are also co-managing migrating bison herds from Yellowstone National to US Forest Service land.
Native peoples generally take a more sensitive and familial approach to handling bison populations. Their techniques include keeping bison families together, mitigating the likelihood of stampedes, and ultimately reducing stress placed on the animals. These Indigenous animal handling techniques have helped to improve conservation efforts and management of the land, as well as the welfare of the animals which inhabit it.
In Rhode Island, the Narragansett tribe will be recognised as the stewards of their Indigenous land, utilising their traditional ecological knowledge to preserve it. “We agreed to protect it; we agreed to steward it,” says Morgan Grefe, Executive Director of the Historical Society. “We’re here in continuation of that promise—to see that this land is protected and stewarded in a way that we could never have accomplished ourselves”.[7]
These examples indicate the in-depth expertise that Indigenous peoples have for their Native land, as well as their cultural mastery in preserving natural resources. According to a United Nations review of more than 300 studies, rates of deforestation in South America were 50% lower in areas under Indigenous control when compared to areas managed by non-Native communities.[8] Protecting these forests is vital for mitigating the threats of climate change and preventing the extinction of regional wildlife.
World leaders are also beginning to acknowledge the significance of Indigenous expertise in lessening the effects of climate change. At COP26, the US, the UK, Germany, the Netherlands, and several private donors collectively pledged to provide US $1.7 billion to support Indigenous and local communities in tackling climate change and protecting biodiversity.[9] The funds have the potential to help Native communities build their own infrastructure, resolve territorial disputes, and support land reforms, among other endeavours.
Opportunities for Further Reconciliation
Beyond the expertise that Indigenous communities provide, transferring stolen land back to its owners is a moral obligation. The Indigenous peoples mentioned here have been dispossessed, abused, neglected, and in the case of the Narragansett tribe, nearly annihilated. This pain cannot be healed by simply acknowledging these wrongdoings – it requires a long-term commitment to restore what rightfully belongs to Native communities. The returning of Indigenous land is the first step in showing such commitment.
Hayden King, the Executive Director of the Yellowhead Institute and co-writer of the text Land Back, describes the returning of Native land through the perspective of the Beausoleil First Nation tribe as more than just returning property. “It’s also about revitalising Indigenous life, because we’re thinking about land as everything in unity, we’re thinking about our languages… our culture… our family, and social organisations connected to the land.”[10]
The returning of land is not only an opportunity for reconciliation, but a path for the autonomous growth and reestablishment of Indigenous communities. As Brian Lightfoot Brown of the Narragansett Tribe states, the land “is so deeply ingrained in who we are”.[11]
As world leaders gradually continue to rightfully recognise the benefits of including Indigenous communities in environmental preservation programmes, the fact that Native peoples are given back their land and resources is not just transactional. It’s an opportunity to plant the seeds of growth and restoration, while the land still remains fertile.
Benjamin Chappelow is a writer and narrative designer in the Appalachian mountains, United States.
As an immigration researcher and former Narrative Writer for the Climate Resilience Toolkit, he is focused on how the stories we tell dictate our behavior in an ecological crisis.
References
[1] The Queensland Cabinet and Ministerial Directory. (2021, September 28). 160,000 hectares returned on path to reconciliation. Ministerial Media Statements. Retrieved January 18, 2022.
[2] Shivaram, D. (2021, October 8). Biden restores protections for bears ears monument, 4 years after Trump downsized it. NPR. Retrieved January 18, 2022.
[3] 7 big questions: What’s happening with bears ears and other national monuments? The Wilderness Society. (2021, August). Retrieved January 18, 2022.
[4] U.S. Department of the Interior. (2021, January). Secretary Bernhardt Signs historic secretarial order to transition the National Bison Range into Tribal Trust for the Flathead Indian Reservation. Indian Affairs. Retrieved January 18, 2022.
[5] Associated Press. (2021, October 27). Tribe Given Land Where Ancestors Survived Near-Annihilation. U.S. News & World Report. Retrieved January 18, 2022.
[6] Robbins, J. (2021, June 3). How returning lands to Native Tribes is helping protect nature. Yale E360. Retrieved January 18, 2022.
[7] Nunes, A. (2022, January 17). Site of ‘great swamp massacre’ returned to Narragansett Indian tribe. The Public’s Radio. Retrieved January 18, 2022.
[8] Carrington, D. (2021, March 25). Indigenous peoples by far the best guardians of forests – UN report. The Guardian. Retrieved January 18, 2022.
[9] Sutherland, L. (2021, November 3). $1.7 billion pledged in support of indigenous and local communities’ land tenure. Mongabay Environmental News. Retrieved January 18, 2022.
[10] Monroe-Kane, C. (2021, December 20). How the land back movement is reclaiming land stolen from indigenous people. Wisconsin Public Radio. Retrieved January 18, 2022.
[11] Brown, B. L. (2021, November 15). Long overdue: Sacred site returned to the Narragansett. Indian Country Today. Retrieved January 18, 2022.
The suburban lawn, also known as turf grass, exists as a space of fruitless continuity. In the United States it is the largest crop by acreage, tripling corn, yet it produces no nutritional or agricultural value. Americans use nine billion gallons of water per day to maintain their lawns, but research has found as much as 50% of that water goes to waste due to inefficient irrigation methods.[i] Residents destroy between 5,000 and 385,000 acres of natural habitats per day using harmful chemicals, clearing away biodiverse land vital for pollinators in the process.[ii]
To make matters worse, lawn equipment also makes up 4% of U.S. greenhouse gas emissions,[iii] outstripping emissions from livestock and manure.[iv] Though the UK any other suburban-abundant nations descended from Great Britain (e.g., Canada, Australia, and New Zealand) may not hold the lawn to such heights as the United States, they too share similar residential traditions. As droughts, wildfires, and colony collapse loom, why are so many people holding on to something that sucks up so much water, time, energy, and wildlife while producing so little?
Its Origins
The lawn acts as a symbol of middle-class ideals, of curb appeal and leisure time. It demonstrates civilization ‘triumphing’ over wild land by ritually manicuring it into uniformity, and has become a hallmark of residential life across much of the Global North. However, turf grass isn’t a part of North America’s natural prairies, meadows, or pastures. Poa pratensis, better known as Kentucky bluegrass, and its related species, make up almost every suburban lawn, but are native only to Europe and Asia – not to areas like Kentucky at all.
What we know as lawns today emerged in 16th century France, where aristocratic landowners had slaves and peasantry cultivate empty spaces of neatly manicured grasses.[v] Being able to afford to keep empty space that produced no food was a sign of vast wealth. The lawn grew in popularity within Great Britain, where Enclosure laws ended land rights for commoners and put an end to commonly owned land. These laws prevented individuals farming on the formerly shared land, pushed them into wage labor for landowners, who could deem that the land would be cultivated for strictly aesthetic purposes. Once the British empire established colonies in North America, colonists sought to mimic these displays of elite wealth. Indigenous communities—who had cultivated and maintained the landscape through controlled burning and establishing interdependent relationships with the wildlife—were either killed or driven off the perennial prairie grasses, where colonists would replace native Buffalo with European cattle.
However, these cattle, woefully maladapted for their new North American habitat and couldn’t get enough nutrients from the North American terrain. And so, the British brought their own grasses from Europe, which pushed out native plants and animals that could not subsist with the Kentucky bluegrass. As they shaped the North American land to look like a European countryside, ecological colonization became a self-fulfilling prophecy.
By the late 19th century, with the invention of the push lawnmower, the sprinkler, and the birth of the suburbs, the lawn began to shift from a symbol of wealth and leisure to one of conformity. Lawns were no longer something only the ultra-elite could have. After World War II, middle-class people afford to cultivate their own little pieces of luxury. With soldiers returning home, warfare chemicals becoming reinvented as pesticides and artificial fertilizers, and rapid suburban development, having a strip of trimmed grass in front of your house became the staple of a domestic life.
A significant part of your property value is its curb appeal (how attractive your house looks when viewed from the street). But because the front lawn connects to the street, it isn’t a space cultivated for use. You might imagine the front lawn as a space for children to play, but with cars speeding down your street, dogs defecating in your grass, and the lack of privacy, the backyard is generally where domestic life (playing, gardening, grilling, swimming) resides, and the front lawn serves as a symbolic space of uniformity with the neighborhood. So roughly half of the lawn space you own serves no physical purpose. And while it may be your property, depending on where you live, the front lawn’s aesthetic does not belong to you. Instead, it must conform to outdated legislation based on guidelines set by tradition, no matter how inefficient or harmful those guidelines may be.
Its Disutility
The Kentucky bluegrass can only naturally thrive in climates like those of Northern Europe, which means residents who live anywhere other than New England and some parts of Canada need to constantly tend to their Kentucky bluegrass to keep it alive. The same goes for other common lawn grasses such as scutch grass (native to Africa) and Zoysia grass (native to Asia and Australia, typically hardier than the other two and often used for golf courses). As a result, most residential areas are ripping out native plant species, inserting nonnative grass species in an incompatible climate, and constantly tending to them so they don’t die. These grasses typically require more water than what natural rainfall provides. They require fertilizers to pump more nutrients into a soil in which it has not evolved to grow. And even if you do those two steps right, they require constant maintenance in order to fit an aesthetic ideal.
However, even if one does want to move towards a more natural and less wasteful gardening approach, letting your lawn die and decreasing curb appeal does come with obstacles. If your property is governed by a Homeowners Association, they can fine you for not maintaining your lawn.[vi] One common practice is for the HOA to hire a landscaping crew to renovate your lawn, and make you pay the bill. In certain jurisdictions, you can even be arrested for not mowing your lawn.[vii] For those who are old or physically unable to tend to their lawn, there is no exception.
Aside from the harms inflicted on biodiversity and water security, there are also practical, financial, and health and safety challenges related to lawns. Many choose, or are forced, to hire professionals to handle lawncare, and the average American homeowner spends between $700 and $2,600 per year.[viii] In countries like Australia and Canada where the average suburban lawn is much smaller in surface area, costs are expected to be less. It would be cheaper to tend to your lawn yourself (Americans on average spend $1080 on lawn equipment),[ix] but this increases the likelihood of physical injuries. In 2016, more than 86,000 American adults and 4,500 children went to the emergency room for lawnmower-related injuries.[x] Those whose jobs involve lawn maintenance also face considerable danger. In 2019, 229 ground maintenance workers died from workplace-related accidents, more deaths that year than firefighters and law enforcement combined.[xi]
As freshwater becomes increasingly scarce, using nine billion gallons of water a day to maintain golf courses, roadside greenways, and lawns is a dire misplacement of resources. Despite this seemingly limitless enthusiasm for the garden lawn, in the drier parts of the U.S. and Australia, we are already seeing restrictions and mandates on how households use limited supplies of water. In Australia’s New South Wales, from December 2019 to February 2020 the government placed restrictions on the use of sprinklers and hoses for watering lawns and washing cars.[xii]
The world’s freshwater security is becoming increasingly jeopardized, and if water supplies continue to fall in the near future, governments will be forced to further restrict outdoor water use. In states like Nevada, lawmakers are banning the watering of grassy areas that do not serve a function, mainly at office parks, in street medians, and at entrances to housing developments. This trend might continue for other states reliant on the Colorado River, which is continuing to dry up.[xiii]
So, with lawns causing all these problems, what are some alternatives?
What else can we do with our property?
Turning away from the traditional lawn may feel uncomfortable. As humans, we have evolved towards conformity. We want to feel a sense of belonging to a tribe. Even without local law enforcement or HOAs forcing you to keep a turf grass lawn, some people naturally want to keep up their home’s appearance. We want to feel like a part of our neighborhood. We want to be aesthetically united with our neighbors.
According to biologist and entomology professor Douglas W. Tallamy, getting rid of the lawn doesn’t mean losing a sense of community. As he states in his book Nature’s Best Hope, you can imagine your property “as one small piece of a giant puzzle, which, when assembled, has the potential to form a beautiful ecological picture.”[xiv] He proposes we exchange the traditional residential lawn with native plants that can support local species. Based on one’s given location, replacing 70% of one’s property with native plant species can provide wonderful benefits to local birds, amphibians, reptiles, and invertebrates.[xv] While invasive does not always mean harmful, filling your lawn with plants that require less water and offer better support to local pollinators is one step towards building a more beneficial landscape.
Another alternative is gardening. Fruit and vegetable gardens, per square foot, require 75% less water on average.[xvi] Even in places like California where water is scarce, gardening under proper methods is more than feasible.[xvii] If you take pleasure in the constant maintenance a yard requires, keeping and maintaining a garden provides a similar outdoor routine that needs less carbon-emitting lawn equipment and produces (sometimes literal) fruit for your labor. We can learn from Cuba’s organoponicos (urban farms).[xviii] With the collapse of the Soviet Union in the early 90s and an 80% reduction in the country’s trade, Cuba faced a dire hunger crisis. It had to produce twice as much food with less than half of its usual chemical inputs.
With fewer resources, Cuba converted much of its residential land for gardens. Residents utilized more integrated pest management, applied soil and composting conservation methods, and rotated crops. By 2002, Cuba produced 3.2 million tons of organic food from organoponicos, staving off impending hunger crises. Such a radical change to a more nurturing suburban landscape could help remedy food deserts in urban and rural areas. At the very least, converting empty lawn space to gardens would redirect limited resources towards more beneficial investments while keeping properties lush and green.
As individuals, taking small steps is the key to creating a more beneficial landscape. One such step would be working within your local community—with neighborhood committees and HOAs—to make sure property owners have a greater freedom in their choices, and allow homeowners to establish more beneficial spaces without punishing them for going against uniformity. If you’re too busy to garden, replacing yard décor with native vegetation provides benefits to wildlife without all the upkeep. Inform your neighbors about the problems with turf grass lawns, and of the alternatives available. The pride many people take in their lawns isn’t rooted in the lawn itself, but the act of maintaining and cultivating an aesthetic space. If we get rid of the turf grass lawn, we can hold on to the culture of lawncare while changing residential spaces to actually provide utility. And with impeding droughts on the horizon, the time redirect water towards necessary channels is growing more urgent.[xix]
Benjamin Chappelow is a writer and narrative designer in the Appalachian mountains, United States.
As an immigration researcher and former Narrative Writer for the Climate Resilience Toolkit, he is focused on how the stories we tell dictate our behavior in an ecological crisis.
[xiv] Tallamy, D. W. (2020). Nature’s best hope a new approach to conservation that starts in your yard. Timber Press.
[xv] Narango, D. L., Tallamy, D. W., & Marra, P. P. (2018). Nonnative plants reduce population growth of an insectivorous bird. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 115(45), 11549–11554. https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.1809259115
In November 2020, Central America was hit with not one, but two, devastating hurricanes: Eta and Iota, which caused extensive damage across Nicaragua, Honduras, Guatemala, and Panama. Following these disasters, The Franciscan Network for Migrants reported that approximately 34 people emigrate every hour from Guatemala and Honduras because of climate-related reasons. By 2050, the World Bank estimates that 1.4 million people in Mexico and Central America could migrate due to the consequences of climate change.
Eta and Iota were recorded as Category 4 hurricanes, and two of the most intense storms in the region’s history. The severe winds and devastating floods affected six million people, and caused the displacement of nearly 600,000 people in Honduras, Guatemala, and Nicaragua. Little government assistance was given, meaning that up to 250,000 people were still in emergency shelters in January 2021. Eta and Iota destroyed people’s houses but also significantly impacted employment in the region. For instance, in Honduras, the agricultural sector provided for one-third of the country’s employment but 80% of this employment was destroyed by the storms.
President Biden’s Executive Order
In light of the clear acceleration of climate migration, President Biden signed an executive order in February 2021 on “Rebuilding and Enhancing Programs to Resettle Refugees and Planning for the Impact of Climate Change on Migration”. Federal agencies were to submit reports on climate change and its impact on migration, including a discussion on the implications of climate-related migration on international security, and a plan for protection and resettlement of those displaced due to climate change.
While this first step is an important one, as of now climate migrants do not have clear international protection. Under the 1951 UN Refugee Convention, refugees are recognized as individuals outside their home country because they face persecution based on race, religion, nationality, or political opinion. As such, this definition does not include climate refugees – they are therefore being denied international protection. Biden’s executive order is a promising initial step, but the administration needs to go further. The United States (U.S.) is responsible for the largest share of heat-trapping fossil fuel emissions. These fossil fuel emissions are a large contributing cause of climate migration, so it is now crucial for the administration to include climate migrants in its migration policies.
Kamala Harris Disregards Climate Migration
In June 2021, Vice President Kamala Harris held a press conference with Guatemalan President, Alejandro Giammattei. She discussed the President’s plan to moderate migration at the southern border, and designated corruption and human trafficking as the most pressing causes of migration to the U.S. from Central America. Her visit to Guatemala came a few months after Hurricanes Eta and Iota, and President Biden’s executive order. Yet, Harris failed to acknowledge climate change as the biggest cause for migration in 2020.
The administration plans to tackle migration by investing $4 billion to “build security and prosperity” in Central America. This investment will be used to stimulate the region’s economy and to tackle corruption. Once again, this plan could help in the short term, but it fails to acknowledge more pressing matters that need to be dealt with in the long term, such as the effect of increasing global temperatures, rising sea levels, or severe weather events displacing millions of people. It seems futile for the Biden administration to invest a large sum of money to stimulate the economies of these countries without acknowledging the fact that their populations are already migrating due to climate change. The U.S. continues to fund fossil fuel projects in the Global South – from which a majority of climate migrants will be fleeing in the next 30 years – when its priority should be protecting those who have already fled.
It is crucial that now, more than ever, governments and international institutions change their policies to include climate migrants. Today, we witness the acceleration of climate change and the mass migration that it causes. This is no longer a problem for the future – it has already begun. With the COP26 taking place this November, governments must go beyond solely discussing climate migration. It is time to act and provide adequate international protection to the victims of human-caused climate change.
Flora Bensadon holds a degree in History and International Development Degree from McGill University. Through her studies, her culturally diverse background and her travels, Flora has taken a profound interest in the problems of migration, specifically those of climate refugees.
In recent weeks, an increasing surge of migrants have attempted to cross the U.S.-Mexico border, many of them being unaccompanied minors. Authorities have placed these minors in overcrowded detention centers. American lawmakers cast blame for the inhospitable facility conditions across the partisan aisle. Congress has been unable to pass any legislation to change their country’s immigration system. Meanwhile, thousands of bald eagles have begun their pre-breeding migratory season. They are crossing the U.S.-Canada border by the thousands to build their nests in the trees of the Prairie Provinces and British Columbia.
We are led to believe that our material reality exists in an orderly fashion, that what we call nature organizes itself through confinement. Certain things belong in certain places. Any movement outside of these confinements is an anomaly. What is foreign is invasive. Sonia Shah, in her recently published book The Next Great Migration: The Beauty and Terror of Life on the Move, points to a dynamic world (increasingly so with the impacts of climate change), and the enduringly migratory humans that, only recently, have placed abstract obstacles between one another.
A Faulty Science
A large portion of Shah’s book uses an appeal to nature when it comes to the inherent migratory function found in almost all species. Originally, our collective science of taxonomy was based on location. We thought of habitats as closed containers, where each species has a specific function to fulfill and can grow only based on the availability of resources within that closed space. Early scientists believed ecosystems were in a constant stasis, and therefore, any species leaving one location and entering another spelled disaster. They saw migration as a threat to the balance, where according to Gause’s Law of Competitive Exclusion, if two species are competing for resources within a closed space, one will always destroy the other.
It isn’t difficult to follow the threads of these beliefs through the history of racial discrimination and immigration law, and the conflation of those laws as ethics. The father of taxonomy, Carl Linnaeus, based his 18th century classifications on the distinctions between species and perpetuated that certain racial distinctions between humans invoked a hierarchy. As pseudoscientific racial science gathered support in Western countries, certain racial traits were deemed undesirable, nonexistent borders between races were arbitrarily parsed, and new immigration laws based on the prevention of racial mixing surged. These sentiments carry into modern-day immigration law with Linnaean nationalism and neo-Malthusian practices underlying modern reactionary anti-immigrant rhetoric, (e.g., American right-wing nationalism and Italy’s Five Star Movement).
No Vivarium in Nature
Of course, these beliefs are not centered in much scientific ground. No ecosystems functions as a closed system. Individuals move in and out of populations and environments constantly. Invasive species are often more common and less malevolent than people think. What scientists nowadays are adopting is an ecology not based on origin, but one based on traits and contributions to an ecosystem. According to Shah, the reasons for migration are a complex myriad of genetic and environmental factors, but she stresses the question we need to ask shouldn’t be why people choose to migrate. Rather, we need to ask why migration inspires terror in natives. Migration is written into the essence of our species. We have been migrating as long as we have been around, for opportunity and for survival. And as Shah finds, migrating peoples are not inherently more violent, nor less intelligent, nor unhealthier, nor a constant hindrance on a host country’s long-term economy. What remains is the ideological and immaterial borders we construct at the cost of the real suffering of people.Despite titling her work The Next Migration, Shah spends the majority of her book investigating the past and affords little time speculating about the future. If one were to build off of her findings and predict the future of migration, one needs to keep in mind the expiration date on xenophobia. There is no such thing as a closed system, and as assimilation increases and distinctions between people diminish, people holding on to some idealized figment of a place will find their environment change around them.
Benjamin Chappelow is a writer and narrative designer in the Appalachian mountains, United States. As an immigration researcher and former Narrative Writer for the Climate Resilience Toolkit, he is focused on how the stories we tell dictate our behavior in an ecological crisis. When he is not writing, Benjamin is trying to teach his cat how to type so he won’t have to.
When you think of environmental contamination, what comes to mind? You’d be right to list examples of a polluted river, a skyline darkened by smog, or an oil leak in the ocean. These capture headlines, and they are an important part of the equation, but these viscerally visual images embody only a small part of the crisis we face. Much of the damage to the environment is harder to see and it is hiding in plain sight all over the nation. Take, for instance, Industri-Plex.
Early History
Industri-Plex is a 245-acre plot of land in Woburn Massachusetts, and it is emblematic of New England’s industrial heritage. This seemingly small plot of land is iconic as both the climax and the new beginning of a story stretching back hundreds of years. It is the tale of a small 1600s settlement, which would rise to an 1800s industrial powerhouse, become the fifth-most contaminated site in the country by the 1980s, and emerge anew in 2010s as a symbol of hope for a revitalized environment.
Nowadays, Woburn is a city of just over 40,000 inhabitants, with a diverse economic sector, but it wasn’t always so. For much of Woburn’s early history – as was the case with many cities, towns, and settlements in the 1600s – it was reliant on agriculture as its primary economic opportunity. Woburn began its first steps into its modern identity in 1648 with the opening of its first tannery. Shoemakers began opening up shop and, not long after, the demand for shoe leather led to the opening of more tanneries. To this day, Woburn’s school sports teams are called the Tanners, in recognition of this history.
Woburn’s location was a massive selling point for industry; it was just 12 miles north of Boston, and it had a large and steady supply of clean water from the Aberjona River. But circumstances improved even further for the City in 1803, with the opening of the Middlesex Canal and the Boston & Lowell Railroad in 1835; both created new means of transportation to and from Boston. Around the same time, just a few miles to the north, the American Industrial Revolution really kicked off in Lowell with the opening of large textile mills.
That industrial spirit was quick to spread across New England, and in 1853, Woburn Chemical Works was built in what would later be part of the Industri-Plex Superfund Site. The company manufactured chemicals used by tanneries and the textile and paper industries. Business was good at this time; the ease with which products could be transported to and from Woburn strengthened the economy and spurred industrial growth. With the onset of the American Civil War, the demand for shoes and boots skyrocketed and Woburn supplied that demand, further bolstering its economic success.
As the nation greeted the twentieth century, the tanning and chemical industries had cemented themselves as two hallmarks of Woburn’s industrial legacy. By 1875, Woburn had risen to be New England’s largest producer of leather and in 1901, a Woburn man by the name of Henry Thayer invented the process of chrome tanning. This revolutionary new process is faster than previous tanning methods and could cure leather in a single day. The process involved soaking leather in chromium sulfate, a mixture of chromium salts and acid produced by Woburn’s own chemical companies. The process also resulted in significant environmental damage as spilt chromium would leach into the ground and groundwater.
Companies in Woburn were also involved in the creation of glue. The process involved cooking raw animal hide and waste from chrome-tanned hide to extract the glue. The discarded hides and residues were dumped in various spots around the Industri-Plex site and would eventually become known as the four “hide piles.”
While companies came and went, the waste remained and continued to contaminate the land. Between the 1850s and the 1950s, the original Woburn Chemical Works was purchased and succeeded by a long chain of other chemical companies. The chain concluded with Stauffer Chemical Company purchasing Consolidated Chemical Company in the 1950s. Stauffer remained in operation until 1969.
In 1968, the Mark-Phillip Trust entered the scene with high ambitions of building a large industrial park over the yet-to-be-deemed Industri-Plex Superfund Site. They began purchasing parcels of land, which had been subjected to over one hundred and twenty years of industrial operations, and eagerly got to work on redeveloping the land. Development included the excavation of the old hide piles, which released noxious odors. What became known as the “Woburn Odor” was so bad that passersby on the highway, as well as residents from multiple nearby towns, would complain of the smell.
Creation of the Environmental Protection Agency and Superfund
Around this time, the country was beginning to take more notice of environmental contamination. Concerns over air, water, and land quality sparked then President Nixon to create the Environmental Protection Agency in 1970. National dialog around the environment reached a fever pitch in 1978, when the federal government purchased the homes and evacuated hundreds of people residing near Love Canal in Niagara Falls, New York. The horror of Love Canal was a significant factor in the 1980 creation of the Superfund program, which authorized the EPA to locate, investigate, and clean up the most hazardous materials nationwide.
The Superfund program was and is an incredibly comprehensive response to one of the most complicated problems modern America has to face. It includes regulations on 761 substances, with almost 600 of them still in active use by industry around the nation. Superfund also includes one of the most aggressive liability frameworks possible under US law. This allows EPA to go after responsible parties and force them to clean up the mess they’ve left behind.
Over the next few years, EPA set out to identify the parties potentially responsible for the cumulative contamination within the Industri-Plex Site. Numerous tests and studies were conducted on the site, revealing heavy metals, organic wastes, and volatile organic compounds. These various forms of contamination weren’t just in the ground; they continued to move in the groundwater and were released into the air, posing a significant public health risk.
With the situation as dire as it was, the EPA settled on a plan to remediate the site in 1986. The plan involved negotiating with thirty-four past and present owners of land within the site to secure funding from them to clean up the contamination. While it might seem obvious at first glance that the corporations that contaminated the land would be held liable for cleaning it up, this was not the case at the time. EPA relied heavily on its new powers under Superfund to retroactively hold parties liable for the harm they left behind. In fact, Industri-Plex was a somewhat defining case for EPA.
Cleaning up Industri-Plex
Such significant contamination meant that the cleanup was going to be expensive, and some of the parties, including the Mark-Phillips-Trust, did not have the money to pay for their share in it. To resolve this problem, the Trust agreed to sell its land on site to reimburse the government for fronting some of the cleanup costs. Critically, this meant that it was the corporations, not the public, that were going to pay the cleanup.
As for the cleanup itself, under consent orders from EPA and the Massachusetts Department of Environmental Quality Engineering (DEQE, now renamed the Massachusetts Department of Environmental Protection or DEP) – Stauffer Chemical conducted numerous site assessments and studies of the surrounding geology. Their results confirmed the presence of organic and inorganic compounds in the soil. The results also showed that these contaminants continued to pose risks as they were migrating in the ground water and being released into the air as vapors.
Some of these hazardous materials could be treated on site, some could be consolidated and moved to a permanent disposal facility, but others were too expensive, too dangerous, or simply incapable of being removed or treated. Take, for example, the East Hide Pile. The hides would constantly release vapors, but when they were moved, the release of vapors (including the “Woburn Oder”) would substantially increase. Wherever you put a giant stinking pile of old animal parts, its going to cause problems.
So, environmental engineers devised a different solution. They installed what is called a “cap” over the hide pile, which would prevent the vapors from releasing into the air. On top of the cap, they placed a layer of top soil and planted grass on it to help root it in place. They then drilled monitoring wells and installed a vapor collection system so that they could make sure the protections were holding, and prevent leaching of contaminants into the groundwater.
Similar strategies were used for other hard-to-remove contamination on the site. As for the ground water, the responsible parties were obligated to capture and treat the ground water to prevent it from spreading the contamination further. This is a long and difficult process and is heavily reliant upon the availability of good data, and available methods of removal, as well as the geology itself.
In 1989, EPA, DEP, the City of Woburn, and the current and former landowners created the Site Remedial Trust and the Site Custodial Trust. These Trusts helped organize partnerships with private and public actors to help businesses return and remain on site during cleanup. Nowadays, Industri-Plex is diverse commercial and industrial area. The City’s largest employer, Raytheon, is set up within the borders of the Indusri-Plex Site. 45 other businesses also reside on site and cumulatively, the current Industri-Plex businesses generate $210 million in employment to the city annually, as well as property and sales taxes.
Industri-Plex Today
In 2020, a portion of the Industri-Plex Site was removed from the National Priorities list. Much of it remains under active monitoring and is subject to five-year reviews. The story isn’t over, but it has entered a new chapter. Woburn has been on the pulse of the American industrial experience since the beginning. When the industrial spirit swept the region, it was there that innovative new techniques for the production of leather and chemicals were created. It captured the quintessential nature of the American Dream, that a person with an idea and ambition could build something greater, and it helped vault America forward into the position it is in today. Of course, it was also there when the costs of that untamed ambition and the lack of understanding of the consequences, caught up to it and as a result, it was also on the front lines of America’s reckoning with environmental contamination. Today, Woburn continues to be on the cutting edge, standing as an example of what is possible when we commit ourselves to environmental revitalization.
To be clear, despite the inspiring thread, this story is woven by over a hundred years of contamination. Over that time, people got sick, workers were taken advantage of, employers prioritized profits over people, chemicals were produced that contributed to contamination elsewhere, and millions upon millions of dollars were spent over decades ($70 million in the initial 7-year remediation alone) to get us to where we are today. Furthermore, the industrial practices that led to this reckoning are not gone. Corporations continue to attempt to subvert the government’s attempts to protect people and the environment. Agencies like EPA are a great improvement, but they alone will not solve the crisis facing our planet. And yet, this was an insanely complicated and dangerous situation, and people did come together to respond to it. Industri-Plex today should be seen as an example that change is possible, that absurd and creative solutions can work, and that the rewards of a healthy environment are worth the effort.
A picture is worth a thousand words; I believe this one is worth a lot more. Below is a field of solar panels, residing directly on top of the East Hide Pile. Quite literally, the present, standing atop the past, looking up towards the future.
This article is part of our Spring 2021 collaboration with students from the International Human Rights Clinic at the Western New England University.
Andrew Hanna has always been fascinated by the “why” questions in relation to human behavior. That fascination pushed him to study psychology, sociology, and philosophy during my undergraduate studies. He concentrated in mental health services and worked for two and a half year as residential counselor. The work was transformative, traumatic, and ultimately marred by layers of structure issues which negatively impacted the health of the children he worked with. The frustration he felt with the mental health system pushed him to apply to law school. Andrew is now a 2L at Western New England University School of Law. It is his hope that through legal training, he can find a way to improve the systems that offer services to those in need.
Wildfires are not something most businesses on the United States’ West Coast can easily prepare for. They often occur with little to no warning, as they spread rapidly, and their path can be unpredictable. Even if a place of work itself is not at risk, employees’ homes and commuting roads are often damaged. On either side of highways, there are usually expensive fields and farmlands which have the capacity to burn rapidly. When highways, and railways, shutdown, employees often cannot make it to work. Once the fires have passed, the roads may remain closed due to the pavement’s temperature and the debris blocking the paths. When neighborhoods and towns are evacuated, employers lose a majority of their workforce, making it difficult for them to run their business. [1]
The Farming Industry
During the start of the COVID-19 pandemic, farmers were considered essential workers, which meant that they could continue to operate, but often under less-than optimal conditions. Due to the overlap between the pandemic and fire season, many migrant workers had left the California farming areas, which made for a scarcity of available employees. This meant a heavier workload and less productivity for the remaining workers. Once fruits and vegetables are ready to be harvested, there is usually only a window of a few days within which to pick them before they are rendered unmarketable.[2] This is what happened to a lot of products in California this season because the workforce was just not available.
The workers who were still farming faced a harsh reality. They often worked in temperatures over one hundred degrees Fahrenheit, for shifts spanning twelve-hours or more.[3] There was also a K-95 mask shortage, which risked the safety of the employees and the products being harvested. Many workers suffered heat-related injuries due to the extreme heat and the physical toll of the labor.[4] Farmers were often woken up in the middle of the night because they needed to move their cattle somewhere safer or because they themselves needed to evacuate.
When smoke and flames do destroy fields, the chemical composition of the soil is changed. Farming becomes more challenging and can even change the quality of the plants that are able to grow. The destruction of pastures also presents a challenge for farmers as it is the main source of sustenance for the livestock. Buying alternative food sources for livestock is expensive and oftentimes not worth the expense, forcing ranchers to slaughter early to avoid unnecessary expenses.[5] In the event that pastures are saved, herding the cattle can be difficult. The fires can destroy fences, some of which are multiple miles long (to fulfil the purpose of the enclosure of large plots of land). Transporting thousands of animals back to safe pasture is time-consuming, expensive, and physically demanding.[6] Rebuilding the fences is also a costly endeavor and time-consuming, but it must be done as quickly as possible so that the cattle are not lost.[7]
The Timber Industry
Scientists say that fossil fuels create a more considerable fire risk which could lead to the end of the timber industry, hurting many rural families who depend on the forests for a living.[8] Oregon is the number one producer of lumber in the United States (US), but even their trees take a very long time to grow. It can take over thirty years before a tree reaches a size appropriate for cutting.[9] A wildfire in Oregon destroyed a plot of 25-year-old trees at the Seneca Sawmill. Almost all of their younger trees were wiped out, and 25 years of work and care went to waste.[10] While many people heat their homes with oil and alternative energy, many Americans – especially those in rural areas – rely on lumber to stay warm in the winter. It is also used to make homes, furniture, and other products. The newly planted trees will take about 40-60 years before they can be harvested, which could create future layoffs and economic setbacks for the timber industry.[11] The logging industry will also be impacted, as with any issue of supply and demand: shortages will create a hike in prices and a more competitive industry, especially when up against timber yards in other states that are not facing wildfires.[12]
The Restaurant Industry
The restaurant industry has also suffered as the result of the smoke from wildfires, and the impact of COVID-19 preventative measures. Both of these factors have led to a reduction in tourism, which is what many of the smaller restaurants in California and Oregon rely on for businesses. COVID-19 regulations forced many restaurants to close their doors to inside seating and instead open up to outside seating. However, the smoke from the wildfires made the air outside unsafe as well. Even when the fire diverts and does not physically destroy buildings, the smoke makes the air quality in surrounding areas unsafe.[13] Restaurants in San Francisco have often had to close over the weekend, despite it being their busiest and most profitable time, because the air quality was too poor to safely host outdoor dining.[14]
It is important to note that restaurants and cafes that are Asian-run, or that serve Asian food have faced an increased decline in business since the start of the pandemic in February of 2020 due to a myriad of circumstances.[15] Travel restrictions and tax season meant that people had been eating out less, but COVID-19 misinformation surrounding the origins of the virus in China has also played a large role in increased xenophobia and discrimination towards the Asian community and restaurants. For instance, the Liang’s who own a small noodle bar to consider closing their doors.[16] They faced over a 50% drop in orders within just two weeks, and their situation is not unique – they are one of many businesses impacted in this way.
While customer orders were down, some restaurants kept busy feeding those who were protecting the community.[17] Tyler Florence, a chef from the World Food Kitchen, joined local chefs in Sonoma County, California to help feed those in need during the shutdown. While the restaurants were not open for business, they helped feed first responders and people forced to evacuate.[18] On one Sunday, they served over 6,000 meals to people in the area, including firefighters who spent over 12 hours working a shift and were too exhausted to cook. [19]
Fighting wildfires and the pandemic simultaneously have created competing risk analyses. Controlled burns are one way in which the government attempts to prevent wildfires. It helps in removing debris and other materials that could spread wildfires by burning them under close supervision. Even if under control, this is still a fire, and creates smoke which intensifies the already poor air quality in California’s valleys.[20] This can cause complications for older citizens and those with lung conditions. Poor air quality has led to an increase in hospitalizations, when health providers are already stretched thin due to COVID-19.[21] In response, the US Forrest Service decided to halt planned controlled burns so as not to worsen air quality conditions. However, the Bureau of Land Management continued their control burns as planned to prevent more wildfires in the future.[22] There are trade-offs to all of the decisions being made, but the public’s safety remains the top priority.
Conclusion
Restrictions on dining, travel, and social distancing have taken their toll on businesses. The pandemic safety precautions combined with environmental disasters – such as the wildfires and resulting smoke – have increased the struggles of many citizens living on the West Coast of the US. Farmers have had incurred extra costs trying to repair the damage to their soil, property, and crops/ livestock. This increases the risk of food shortages and farmer’s leaving the profession for a more economically sustainable career. The timber industry has suffered setbacks with the burning of their trees, which will take decades for them to recover, creating shortages in the not-too-distant future. Many Americans rely on wood to build and heat their homes. No industry has seem to escaped unscathed as the restaurant industry has also struggled with Coivid-19 protocols as outside dining is no solution when the outside air is unsafe.
This article is part of our Spring 2021 collaboration with students from the International Human Rights Clinic at the Western New England University.
Jennifer Fields is a second year Law Student at Western New England School of Law in Springfield, MA. She is on the Dean’s List and is working on a concentration in International and Comparative Law to complement her passion for justice. In college, she worked for Beit Ha’Gefen in Haifa, Israel, creating a safe, multicultural space for refugees settling into Israeli life. Currently, she is active in her community as a trained legal observer for the National Lawyers Guild and does Pro Bono work with the ACLU. When the season is right, she enjoys skiing and spending time on the water.
[2] Kelly Haddock, California Wildfires Effect on Agriculture, (Aug. 25, 2020), https://georgia.growingamerica.com/features/2020/08/california-wildfires-affect-agriculture
Wildfires in the Western United States (US) have been increasing in intensity and destruction over the past decade due to various factors, including severe droughts and heavy winds. They leave undeniable devastation in their wake, such as the charred remains of the forests, farms, and homes they burn as well as the severe health risks posed to the people in their proximity due to smoke and debris.
The fires also cause more latent harm that has lasting effects on communities. Apart from the physical destruction, there are costs that result from the fire evacuations, including the loss of business, personal finances, health struggles, and the impact on deserted communities. Wildfires can create uninhabitable areas, forcing people to evacuate their homes and become migrants in their county or state. The term ‘migrant’ is typically understood to imply crossing country borders. However, the wildfires in Western North America have forced hundreds of thousands of residents in California and Oregon to migrate across county and state lines in search of safety.
I. Physical and Mental Health Effects
The wildfires pose health risks both physically and mentally. Medical complications can begin even before the flames are seen as the smoke alone can be deadly[1]. In October 2020, smoke surrounded counties in Oregon where more than eight million people reside, leading to hundreds of additional Emergency Room visitations. Many of the patients began to struggle with their breathing as soon as the smoke appeared, and hospitals were already stretched thin from battling the COVID-19 pandemic. Some residents were unable to go to hospitals which were at full capacity, and others ended up dying later on from complications such as pneumonia[2]. Minuscule particles invisible to the naked eye mean that the inhalation of smoke is extremely dangerous. Often, people do not realize the risk of their situation until they are already suffering the respiratory effects[3]. The evidence shows that this can be deadly: an unexpected blaze of smoke in California killed 85 people in the summer of 2018, and Stanford University research has revealed that about 3,000 people over the age of 65 in California died prematurely after being exposed to smoke in early August of 2020. [4]
In late October 2020, wildfires spread through southern California, and in an attempt to prevent electrical fires, counties decided to cut the power from homes and buildings[5]. Over 90,000 people were under mandatory evacuation orders in Irving City alone whilst firefighters tried to regain control. Two firefighters were severely injured by the flames and sustained second and third-degree burns across much of their bodies. Enduring such physical trauma also has mental health implications.
Researchers at the Centre of Social Medicine and Community Health in New Delhi, India, carried out a study on trauma and its effects on mental health and found strong links between the two[6]. Disasters such as wildfires are not contained to the inherent damage caused, but create ripples of new problems and intensify the severity of others. Natural disasters have long-lasting traumatic implications for both society at large as well as individuals.
Psychological distress is a common reaction to devastating events such as forced evacuation, relocation, and disruption from the daily routine of one’s life. Experiencing a natural disaster increases the risk of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), anxiety, and depression[7]. Children who may not understand the full severity of the situation are at even greater risk of these mental struggles, as well as suffering from shock as the result of such disruption[8].
As fire season began in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, parents on the West Coast struggled to care for their children’s mental health. It became unsafe to be outside for prolonged periods due to the dangers of smoke inhalation. This left parents inside with their doors locked, windows shut, and air purifiers on trying to keep their children entertained to avoid cabin fever.[9] One mother, Meg Keene, tried to calm her son, who has ADHA, anxiety, and depression. However, the orange skies in the daytime made him afraid of an apocalypse, and he asked to stay in a room without windows[10]. The relentless fires have increased mental health struggles for many families who are trying to survive a global pandemic and wildfire season.
Home is often a secure place for people to bunker down, and with a stay-at-home advisory or orders issued by the governors of Oregon and California, home is where people spent most of their summers. However, complications arose when fire evacuations were ordered whilst these orders were in place. Home was no longer a safe place to be, but neither was anywhere else due to the pandemic. Families struggled to find or afford alternative accommodation following months of layoffs and record unemployment rates. Those who were still employed did not want to risk losing their only income source and disrupt their lives by evacuating. In Oregon, when the fires spread abruptly and destroyed homes, people booked up all the local hotels and accommodation, making alternative housing almost impossible.
Wildfires spread rapidly through Oregon once more in September 2020, and people were forced to begin to evacuate their homes with only three-hours’ notice[11]. Many people were unable to pack within the time restriction and due to the quickly traffic-jammed roads, and so only took their pets and the shirts on their backs. Roads were closed to prevent the spread of fire, but that left few options for people trying to evacuate. With no accommodation available, people parked in parking lots and slept in their cars with their cats and dogs[12]. California and Oregon state governments encouraged inhabitants to prepare and have evacuation plans in place, but with only a few hours’ notice, a pandemic raging and limited resources for the hundreds of thousands of people forced to flee, chaos ensued. Families’ typical evacuation plans, which typically involve staying with a friend or family member in another town were disrupted or not an option due to the risk of COVID-19.
II. Impact on Low-Income Families
Like all disasters, fires disproportionally harm low-income families. Many families out West struggle to afford temporary accommodation elsewhere. Evacuations can happen several times a year and for varying lengths of time. Many people cannot afford to take time off from their jobs and afford housing and food costs elsewhere[13]. Food costs also tend to increase when seeking alternative accommodation, as there is often not a kitchen available. Families are then forced to purchase more expensive premade meals. Often families also do not have reliable transportation or a car, meaning that they must pay bus or train fees; a disruptive cost for an already economically burdened family[14]. Several government agencies provide disaster loans, but unfortunately, not all low-income families qualify for these relief loans[15]. In the event that a family does qualify, it can take months or more for the funds to come through, at which point the family is often even more in debt. In addition, many of these loans do not cover reconstruction for many of the homes that have been damaged or decimated by the heat and the flames of the wildfires.
The 2018 California wildfires burned down Wendy, and Norm Alvarez’s home and tool shed, destroying all their possessions[16]. This left them without shelter and destroyed Norm’s livelihood as he no longer had the tools for his carpentry work. The couple could not afford homeowner’s insurance, which put them in a precarious financial situation. Many of those who lose homes in the fire are unable to fully recover financially, and this has an impact that can last for several generations. It creates instability in the community as people do not know how long they will be able to afford to live in one place, and are often forced to move elsewhere in pursuit of affordable housing options[17]. Well-paying jobs and reasonably priced housing accommodation are difficult to find in rural areas, especially when neighboring communities have suffered similar losses and are competing for the same jobs and homes[18].
Some people have received relief in the form of Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) provided trailers whilst they recover from the disaster, but they may only use the trailer for a maximum of 18 months[19]. Home renovations and repairs are expensive and time-consuming; it takes time to remove all the fire damage and appraise whether anything is at all salvageable. Ellen and John Brackett lost their home in a fire and lived in a FEMA trailer whilst reconstructing their home with the knowledge that they would have to live in a tent on the property if it was not completed in time. As parents of two teenagers and caretakers of a 70-year-old parent, living in a tent would give rise to an entire host of other problems. Many people in the community were already living in tents, with no other relief or rebuilding plans available[20].
III. Impact on Insurance and Business
Due to the risk of fire, insurance companies have significantly increased their rates. This means that many residents cannot afford homeowner or renters’ insurance. In September 2020, California implemented new laws to provide affordable insurance in fire risk areas, but this has created the fear that insurers will simply stop offering insurance to those in high-risk regions[21]. Since 2017, insurers have started to discontinue insurance for homes in fire-prone regions. The inability to access insurance can make homes harder to sell and decreases their overall value[22].
In 2020 California suffered the worst wildfire season recorded. 10,488 structures were damaged or destroyed as a result, and 4,257,863 acres of land and forest were destroyed[23]. This devastation increases the risk that insurers will stop providing services at increasing rates, wrecking the housing market in many areas. Insurance providers have been working with homeowners to detail the steps they can take to mitigate fire risks, but there are only a finite number of precautions a homeowner can take to reduce the risk of damage as forest fires increase in both frequency and severity[24].
Insurance rates and fire risks are also increasing the rate at which people move away from high-risk communities, creating climate migrants within the state. This ruins businesses, especially local businesses that were first plagued by COVID and were then hit by the fires or their secondary effects. Northern California has a billion-dollar agricultural industry that provides over one hundred thousand jobs[25]. Fires in the area have ruined many vineyards and destroyed decades-old vines. Without the plants, there is no business. New vines take three to four years to produce grapes, and much longer to yield quality grapes. The smoke in the area taints the wine while it is being fermented and can ruin the overall flavor, which could become a problem for the industry. Even if plants do survive, the heat of the fires causes much of the fruit fall off, and according to federal food and safety regulations, a crop cannot be sold once it has fallen off of the vine[26]. California grows 90% of avocados in the US – an industry worth millions to the economy – but in 2017 many farmers lost their avocados to wildfires, which led to the loss of many farming jobs as well[27]. Most of these farms are small and family-run in the south of the state. This economic loss has continued to challenge them each year as the fires increase, making it harder to recover each time[28].
The pandemic had already impacted small businesses in rural areas, and the fires and smoke brought with them another wave of problems. Many local shops and cafes were destroyed in the fires, and others had to close due to the hazardous air quality[29]. The sun was blocked out by all the smoke, and indoor seating was limited or banned due to COVID-19 restrictions, leaving countless local business owners with no choice but to close in the interests of safety. This came at a cost for many owners who had to make the difficult choice to close for good. If businesses cannot be run, they must close up shop and move to a place that is inhabitable, where smoke and fire do not pose a threat to them or their customers.
The wildfires have increased in frequency and severity over the past decade, causing millions of dollars of damage and affecting the lives of West Coast communities for generations to come. The fires themselves have wreaked havoc that cannot, without – affordable – insurance, be repaired. Families have suffered emotionally, mentally, and financially from these traumas. Many people have suffered and even died due to health complications from the flames and smoke, whilst others have lost their means of income and life’s possessions. People are being forced to move out of these areas because they can no longer afford the cost associated with living in a high fire risk area.
Conclusion
Despite the tragedies faced by these communities, they have come together and shown strength whilst trying to put their homes and lives back together. Organizations and companies across the US have pitched in to help provide relief.
The Salvation Army has helped provide essential services such as the provision of food, water, shelter, and emotional support to many first responders[30]. Many local Airbnb hosts have volunteered their accommodations, and the American Red Cross has been collecting donations[31].
There are many ways to get involved and help the communities hit by the fires, including volunteering time, resources, and funding. Organizations like Baby2Baby collect essentials such as formula, diapers, wipes, and baby food for infants and toddlers whose families were displaced by the fires[32]. The California Fire Foundation provides families with relief by donating gift cards to assist in replacing necessities that were lost or destroyed[33]. There are also food banks across the West Coast that have reopened and provide meals to families and front-line workers in need. California’s Office of Emergency Services also maintains a list of reputable foundations where donors can safely provide relief funding. When communities support one another, they can accelerate the rebuilding process and minimize the potential ripple effects of such disasters.
This article is part of our Spring 2021 collaboration with students from the International Human Rights Clinic at the Western New England University.
Jennifer Fields is a second year Law Student at Western New England School of Law in Springfield, MA. She is on the Dean’s List and is working on a concentration in International and Comparative Law to complement her passion for justice. In college, she worked for Beit Ha’Gefen in Haifa, Israel, creating a safe, multicultural space for refugees settling into Israeli life. Currently, she is active in her community as a trained legal observer for the National Lawyers Guild and does Pro Bono work with the ACLU. When the season is right, she enjoys skiing and spending time on the water.
[11] Andrew Freedman, Western wildfires: Evacuations in California and Oregon as destructive fire outbreak engulfs region, (Sept. 9th, 2020),https://www.washingtonpost.com/weather/2020/09/09/western-fires-live-updates/.
[13] Carlos Martín, Improving the Disaster Recovery of Low-Income Families, https://www.urban.org/debates/improving-disaster-recovery-low-income-families
[16] Sam Harnett, Low-Income Communities Struggle To Recover After A Wildfire, (Sept. 19th, 2020), https://www.npr.org/2018/09/19/647606049/low-income-communities-struggle-to-recover-after-a-wildfire.
[24] Flavelle, As Wildfires Rage (Sept. 16th, 2020).
[25] Kelly McEvers, Northern California Wildfires Destroy Thousands Of Businesses, All things Considered, NPR https://www.npr.org/2017/10/12/557444669/northern-california-wildfires-destroy-thousands-of-businesses.
[26] BBC, California wildfires: Businesses face ruin as blaze rages, (Dec. 2017), https://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-42289831.
As climate change and subsequent environmental disasters continue to force people to leave their homes, policymakers and aid organizations must acknowledge that relocation is more difficult for vulnerable populations and low-income communities. Climate migrants are “involuntary movers,” but it is important to investigate the traumas and challenges of “involuntary stayers” in the context of climate crises as well in order to create robust support networks.
In instances of climate-induced displacement, the ordinary stresses of moving are compounded with the stresses of an environmental catastrophe. Not only must migrants account for the significant financial, social, and physical tolls of moving, but also consider the specific implications of the crisis facing their home. Flooding, fires, and other disasters related to climate change require rapid evacuation, forcing migrants to make split-second decisions about their material possessions in order to survive. A 2016 study by the U.S. Global Change Research Program found that many people who are exposed to climate disasters experience a plethora of serious mental health consequences, including depression, anxiety, and post-traumatic stress disorder. The same study also indicated that children, older adults, and economically disadvantaged individuals are at a higher risk for mental health consequences as a result of exposure to climate disasters. These groups face an additional factor of compounding stress as a result of forced migration which can create additional barriers to relocation that are particularly problematic when an environmental catastrophe posits immediate danger.
The social, political, and economic factors that hinder flight in the aftermath of an environmental crisis are apparent in Flint, Michigan, where the 2014 decision to reroute the city’s water supply through the lead-contaminated Flint River has left the city in an ongoing water crisis. This disaster exacerbated an exodus of residents that has left particularly vulnerable populations behind. The city has seen a population decrease of over 23% since 2000, a lingering symptom of long-term disinvestment that stems from the collapse of Detroit’s auto industry in the late 1960s. As auto industry jobs left the area, affluent white families fled Flint and moved into the suburbs, a textbook example of white Flight. Flint’s low-income residents and communities of color had limited pathways to relocation due to redlining, a racially discriminatory zoning policy that was widely practiced in mid-century America, economic barriers and were left with no choice but to stay. Financial distress has plagued Flint since this collapse: the 2020 average median income was almost $25,000 below the Michigan state average, which is already about $5,000 less than the national average. Buying enough bottled water to meet the weekly needs of your family is a mandatory and significant expense in Flint that tightens budgets and sets the ordeal of moving out of reach for many.
Money is not the only thing that forces people to become “involuntary stayers”. The daily burden of the water crisis has a time cost, for cooking, cleaning, and showering with bottled water require countless errands and energy. “The rhythm of the family is disrupted,” says Dr. Tam Perry, a professor of social work and anthropology at Wayne State University in Detroit. Dr. Perry has been studying the impact of the Flint water crisis on older adults since 2014. Through her ethnographic approach to research in Flint, she has observed the ways in which everyday rituals and cultural practices have been altered to demand more effort, such as the process of cooking collard greens, a vegetable with great historical and traditional significance in Black culture going back to the American civil war. Preparing collard greens is a “source of comfort” and a way for people to “hold onto their cuisine in the face of a crisis,” says Max Smith, a social worker and research assistant to Dr. Perry. However, due to the resource-intensive preparation process, the sheer number of plastic water bottles needed to wash and boil collard greens makes the recipe prohibitive for those who need to conserve water in order to literally survive. This illustrates the cultural damage that can be created by environmental catastrophes for “involuntary stayers” and “involuntary movers” alike, as migrants may also experience feelings of cultural severance upon moving.
Though the contamination of Flint’s water supply was not the direct result of climate change, it stands as a pertinent example of environmental racism and neglect of human rights in a low-income community that is akin to many places currently confronting climate-induced displacement. Warming climates and gradually rising sea levels will produce evacuations over a long-term scale and in this way, Flint provides an important case study to inform future community displacement planning and migration patterns. The burden of the climate crisis will continue to fall most heavily upon low-income areas and communities of color. Governments, NGOs, and other organizations working at the forefront of these issues must consider this disparity in their mitigation approaches to ensure that there is adequate support for vulnerable populations that may not otherwise see relocation as financially, politically, or physically feasible, even in the face of a climate disaster.
Emma Cooper is a Michigan native currently studying at the University of California, Berkeley. This discussion of the cultural toll of environmental disasters builds upon an interview with Dr. Tam Perry, a professor at Wayne State University in Detroit, Michigan who has been conducting research on the social impact of the Flint Water Crisis since 2015, and Max Smith, a social worker in the Detroit area, who served as a research to Dr. Perry on several projects.
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