Acid Mine Drainage: The Weirdest and Worst Fossil Fuel Impact You’ve Never Heard Of

In fall 2019, I moved from Minnesota to Washington, DC to attend George Washington University. My one and only pre-COVID semester was a rollercoaster in many respects, but in one of my classes, I found myself doing intense research on an environmental phenomenon called acid mine drainage. It’s something I’d never heard of, but it’s representative of the dangers of fossil fuels, and I think more people should know about it. 

When coal mining began in Appalachia and western Maryland at the advent of the Industrial Revolution, there was little regard for the environment (as was the case with many practices back then). Early on, I found a book about the history of western Maryland, published in 1882. It was my first book request at the school library — three thousand pages, in two volumes, the latter of which I had to request from another school. 

The first volume was enlightening. Nowadays, we often describe environmental damage using language with negative connotations (as one should).  But back then, someone described the runoff as “a little stream with yellow waters.”[i] In those days, people really had no idea what they were doing to the environment.

Mining runoff, and specifically acid mine drainage, occurs when metals associated with abandoned coal mines oxidize, dissolve into the water, and eventually incorporate into the sediment.

Part of the beautiful Chesapeake Bay we have to work hard to protect

Importantly, this drainage also turns the water acidic (hence the name acid mine drainage), and gives it a bright orange color.

As Maryland and the Chesapeake became more urbanized, the number of places for mining runoff to drain has decreased because concrete can’t absorb water. The “yellow waters” that have persisted since coal companies abandoned their mine lands have no choice but to drain into the tributaries that drain into the Susquehanna and the Potomac’s north branch; those rivers drain to the already endangered Chesapeake Bay.

This phenomenon is clearly problematic for the Chesapeake Bay as a whole, but also causes real damage to the land surrounding the smaller tributaries.

It can even reduce housing prices nearby by around 12.2 percent.[ii] Acidic, orange water is obviously an issue for communities near these water bodies. The water is not drinkable, nor can it be used for recreation. It also kills the local wildlife and inhibits the reproduction of important species such as the brook trout in Maryland.[iii]

Through my research, I also learned about attempts to abate the acid mine drainage in the Chesapeake specifically. I thought I had found a river which would have been perfect, but it drained west, nowhere near the Chesapeake. I then came across a report by the Chesapeake Bay Program entitled “Acid Mine Drainage to the Chesapeake Bay Watershed – Literature Synthesis,” which was exactly the type of document I needed! However, the website didn’t have the report attached, just an EPA report number. Turns out, the report was technically at the EPA library in Philadelphia; I freaked out briefly, wondering how on earth I was supposed to get the paper, but then I remembered that that’s why I have access to a research library. GW was able to pull it online for me, and this would also be the last of my research hiccups. In hindsight, they’re quite humorous and feel very representative of a first attempt at a research paper in undergrad.

An example of the brook trout; they are an indicator species, meaning that they can help show the overall health of a water body

This paper helped me learn about the actual solutions for acid mine drainage, as there are several. The first is a neutralizing agent, such as lime. When you put it in the acidic water, it solidifies (precipitates) the heavy metals, and makes it so that you can actually remove the metals that are causing the drainage. 

Another solution is reclamation, which attacks the drainage at its source: the mine. Reclamation basically means that you’re restoring the original mining land to the point where it looks like the mine was never there. 

These projects have proven to be wildly successful, turning old mine lands into recreational spaces and stopping the runoff at the same time. That being said, reclamation and neutralization are expensive, but are now eligible for federal grants because of the Surface Mining Control and Reclamation Act of 1977. Basically, this law taxes coal production and uses that money to mitigate the lasting effects of mining. The legislation is by no means perfect and has some enforcement issues, but at the state level, agencies like the Maryland Department of the Environment have been able to put that money to good use, and one study has shown that the abatement measures have restored the aforementioned brook trout population in some tributaries.[iv] In short, this issue is being tackled quite well through an effective federal-state partnership program. 

Yet it brings to mind the larger question: What could we have been doing if we didn’t have to spend so much time and money cleaning up neon-bright orange pollution from our rivers over the past century?

The presence of acid mine drainage I feel like is only further proof that we need to phase out coal as energy (which disproportionately hurts predominantly Black communities like Brandywine, MD!) and continue to work to heal the natural areas that we so desperately need to protect. 

What’s more, all this just goes to show how decisions we make now have incredible implications for future generations — just like mining in the 1880s has had for us. Western Maryland is also where gas companies now want to frack, so we should do everything we can to try and stop it. 

This is why CCAN is putting forth the Maryland No New Fossil Fuels campaign, pushing bills for greenhouse gas reduction, and a Maryland Climate Stimulus for coronavirus recovery (sign that petition here). Through my internship this semester at CCAN, I’ve found that it’s more possible than you might think to make a more livable planet in the future, and that it’s actually possible to pass sweeping legislation when you have strong organizers and volunteers. I’m grateful to have made a difference and look forward to continuing my involvement in the environmental community in the future.

References:

[i] Scharf, J. T. (1882). History of western Maryland Being a history of Frederick, Montgomery, Carroll, Washington, Allegany, and Garrett counties from the earliest period to the present day; Including biographical sketches of their representative men. Philadelphia, PA: L.H. Everts.

[ii] Williamson, J. M., Thurston, H. W., & Heberling, M. T. (2008). Valuing acid mine drainage remediation in West Virginia: A hedonic modeling approach. Annal Regional Science, 482, 987-999.

[iii] Sell, M. T., Heft, A. A., Kazyak, D. C., Hilderbrand, R. H., & Morgan, R. P., II. (2014). Short-term and seasonal movements of brook trout in the upper Savage River watershed, Garrett County, Maryland. Wild Trout Symposium XI–Looking Back and Moving Forward, pp. 357-362.

[iv] Loucks, C., & Shanks, K. (2014, August). Mitigating acid mine drainage improves pH levels in Aaron Run (EPA 841-F-14-001UU). United States Environmental Protection Agency.

Welcoming our new Federal & Maryland Policy Director

Welcome to CCAN, Jamie DeMarco!

Just a few weeks ago CCAN had the pleasure of welcoming our new Federal & Maryland Policy Director Jamie DeMarco to our team and we are very excited to introduce you to him! Jamie joined the team as our new Federal & Maryland Policy director and will be leading us to future legislative victories on Capitol Hill and in Annapolis.

A Baltimore native, Jamie has spent the past few years cultivating massive wins in the environmental advocacy space, we are lucky to have him joining the team and joining us today.

We sat down with Jamie to chat with him about his journey in climate activism and his road to CCAN, his role in the climate movement, and what he sees as his most exciting challenge moving forward! Check out the interview below:

Follow along with the transcript below: 

Charles Olsen  0:00  

Jamie DeMarco recently joined CCAN as our new federal and state policy director and will be leading us to further legislative victories in the state of Maryland, as well as expand our legislative agenda on Capitol Hill, a Baltimore native Jamie has spent the past few years cultivating massive wins in the environmental advocacy space, we are lucky to have him joining the team and joining us today. Jamie, you’ve been working in climate policy and activism for some time now. Can you tell me about the first time you organize people? Were you drawn to this work as a kid, did this come naturally to you?

Jamie DeMarco  0:30  

Thanks so much for asking. And thanks for interviewing me, I really appreciate it. I mean, I think it’s so fun that you want to hear from me, and I’m really glad to be in this role at CCAN. But the first time I really started organizing people was early college before that, I had been channeling all of my energy just into my own life, trying to reduce my own impact on the climate crisis and all the other crises that we see. And I was really just trying not to be part of the problem. So I wouldn’t even actually write in cars. Like I spent two and a half years where I wouldn’t get in a car, even if it was already going somewhere. I need very few exceptions like Thanksgiving. But other than that, I would never do it. And it drove everyone around me up the wall. And it was really hard. And I lost a lot of connections and opportunities. That way. It’s kinda It was kind of like being in self quarantine, except I was the only one doing it. And nobody was sympathetic for two and a half years, but I sort of ended that when I started organizing with the beyond coal campaign in Asheville, North Carolina, and I was just an intern, doing work, you know, getting small businesses to try to sign on to say that they would support closing this coal plant and administrative tasks like entering in ballot or signature resolution data into databases. But I was so balanced, the people who were moving and shaking and like, if you just imagine this coal plant, I remember seeing it and it was like the biggest machine standalone machine I’ve ever seen. And we would just have these weekly meetings. If it’s random office building work, our plan was to like, make it stop operating. And the idea that we could do that just seems so ludicrous to me, especially because this is one of the coal plants that was at the time. It made financial sense, like it was relatively newer, and was not no one was talking about retiring, except for us. But through a long, intelligent campaign, they got that coal plant closed, and it’s today doesn’t operate, because of the people who would have those weekly organizing meetings that I was a part of. And I was so struck, how if all of those people had just tried to reduce their own footprint, rather than trying to close that coal plant, then that coal plant might still be operating today. And that was just so eye opening for me about what we can accomplish with our efforts if we put it in the right direction. And that is when I made the choice, that I wasn’t going to make my goal to not be part of the problem. I am going to make my goals be part of the solution, and then end up getting back in the car to become a more effective climate advocate. And I’ve been going at it ever since.

Charles Olsen  3:27  

Amazing. Thank you. You talked about your experience working on getting the Asheville coal plant shut down. Can you tell me a little bit about some of the main things that you’ve learned from that experience that you use in your organizing work now,

Jamie DeMarco  3:43  

At the time for that campaign, I was interning for Anna Jane Joiner, who is a major mover and shaker in the climate space. She is the daughter of an evangelical pastor who you know is very conservative, and actually stopped paying her college tuition when she was in college because he didn’t support the climate change ideas that her professors were putting in her head allegedly. And so she has been a sort of public figure about climate change. And one of the things that she told me as we were riding around Asheville in her car is that it’s not just about the numbers a lot of my training has sort of been like get the numbers get like this many petition signed phone died down get this many people to show up one on one conversation with those people to get this many people to be champions and it’s sort of like a almost like a for a good cause pyramid scheme. And Anna Jane Jr. would always call me like Jamie It is about connecting with people in a deep, profound way in the culture and worldview that they connect with and connecting to that and connecting that to the issues that we’re working on and Have people care about these things, more than a ballot, more than a sort of box to be checked more than a party that they’re affiliated with, but in their core sense of self, and the things that they care about? And that’s something I’ve never forgotten and always hold on.

Charles Olsen  5:22  

That’s super inspiring. You’ve talked about your faith in the past and how it’s important to you. How does your faith influence your work today in organizing and in the climate movement?

Jamie DeMarco  5:32  

Yeah, that is a great question. And my faith is important to me, and especially my faith community, like I grew up as a Quaker. And the sort of Quaker youth program that I was a part of was super formative, and Quaker camps that I went to. And I’m not like, like expanding, I don’t think of myself as a very religious person. Like, it’s kind of funny to think of myself as like this church geek, or some of these huge church programs. But that is what it is. And the faith, like the community is important just because it is a community and like it is the people who I would have would have been the constant threat to my life, and who I hold on to for stability and emotional support. And that in and of itself is important. But the faith itself that I hold most dear is that Quakers believe there is that of God in every person. Like there’s literally that of God, and every person. And I think that that plays into our work, because it sort of disqualifies any solution that would sacrifice people and like, disqualifies any solutions that would say like, this is a good solution moving forward. But like this group of people, is just not going to get the benefits of this group of people is going to be left behind. Because they, like every single person has gotten them and like you can’t throw God under the bus. And like every single person has this inherent dignity that you can’t trample on. And that’s sort of like the number one rule of the road, and then everything that you do has to follow from working backwards from that truth. That’s a beautiful thing about that a lot.

Charles Olsen  7:20  

That’s beautiful. While you were talking about the importance and the significance of every person, it brought to my mind the issues that we see today about incorporating justice into climate solutions. How do you believe that your religious beliefs and your climate goals overlap with the environmental justice issues of our time?

Jamie DeMarco  7:43  

Yeah, I think they overlap a lot. I mean, I first just need to say that I come from a lot of privilege and come from a place of sort of great security, like I at the end of the day can work on these issues, and then come home, to a place that is like a park near the backyard. And I don’t sort of fear for my loss of ability to breathe clean air, and sort of know that if anyone ever tried to harm the community I live in with a project like it would just be so unthinkable that it couldn’t happen because of the wealth and the whiteness that surrounds this community that I live in, in College Park.

So acknowledging that

I did grow up in Baltimore, and Mike had a lot of friends who had asthma who grew up like in the shadow of the incinerator, and I never made those connections as a child. It’s just like, oh, like all those friends of mine have asthma, I guess they can’t run in gym class, as much. But a lot has become more clear to me as a grown up and sort of brickcom started doing this work professionally and listening to people. And I think the most important thing is if someone has experienced oppression that you have not experienced, the most that you can say to that person, in that moment is like I believe you. Like I cannot fully understand what you have experienced. But I’m not going to challenge it or argue with it once right, I get like I believe you. And I take you at your word that like this is what’s happening. And this is what we need to do. And I think that humility is important and isn’t alarmed by faith.

Charles Olsen  9:32  

Thank you. Shifting gears a little bit. You’ve kind of already told us about your experiences of getting into environmentalism and the climate movement. Can you just take me through the steps that you took to get from what you have described as your hunky dory life in Baltimore, to working for the Chesapeake Climate Action Network and joining the climate fight?

Jamie DeMarco  9:53  

Yeah, I mean, that’s the precipitating event. Like some of the greatest precipitation events that one has in life came from my girlfriend in high school, who really told me Jamie, like, Listen, the life you’ve been living comes at the cost of people in places all over the world. And up until that point, I had just been like, waking up as a kid living my life and like the things I thought about were like, how I was gonna have fun, like, how I was gonna like go do theater and then back home and then do the cross country team and then hang out with my friends, like there was just wasn’t a part of me that was thinking about my responsibility to account for the like, impact that my life has, and just more generally, to be accountable to the greater good. I mean, obviously, I cared about the greater good, but it wasn’t the thing that I thought about in my life. And then I had this transition period where I felt like I really couldn’t be happy because I was causing harm with my life. And I’d been taught that, like, if you’re causing harm, you’re a bad person, and like, I want to be a bad person. But I also wanted to live my life. And I just felt so confused. And I think what has emerged from that, is this just sort of underlying drive to do the most that I can with this, like, short, precious lights that we have?

And I mean,

I don’t know if you’re like asking about the resume, or like my career path more.

Charles Olsen  11:27  

Yeah. So could you take us through from working on fighting to shut down a coal plant? What professionally have you done to cause less harm? And to kind of go with that feeling that you just mentioned, to bring you on your path here to see can?

Jamie DeMarco  11:46  

Yeah, so I’ve been going as hard as I know how on the climate fight for a long time, you know, in college, I helped found our fossil fuel divestment campaign at our college, which was successful when I was in college divested from fossil fuels, we were one of the first and that was huge. I helped organize a lot of my peers, to get arrested at the Keystone to get rested at the lighthouse protesting the Keystone XL pipeline, I organized a vein of like a whole bunch of people to the Climate March in New York City. After college, I got a job working at the friends committee on national legislation, which is a great organization, and I was actually working on nuclear disarmament. And it was really fun to just work on a different issue for a whole year and learn a lot about the differences between different issues and see the climate issue from the outside. And, and after that, I helped found the Maryland clean energy jobs initiative, which was, of course, Maryland based. And it was a nonprofit that we created exclusively to pass this one bill, the Maryland clean energy jobs act to achieve 50% renewable electricity in Maryland, by 2030. And we created a two and a half year six step plan to get that bill enacted. And then we followed it and hit every benchmark and got that bill enacted. And from there, I moved on to working at the citizens climate lobby, where I’ve been for two and a half years, which, you know, advocates mostly at the national level for carbon fee and dividend pay bipartisan solutions. But I was mostly working at the state level. So my job was to help citizens’ climate lobby volunteers get plugged in the state level advocacy campaigns, to produce submissions. And we work in New York, in Oregon, DC and Maryland, all over the country on a lot of really exciting and successful campaigns. And then from there, I came to the Chesapeake Climate Action Network where I got my first professional experience. And so it feels like coming home.

Charles Olsen  13:59  

Your dad, Vincent DeMarco was hailed as one of the greatest lobbyists to come out of the Maryland State House. How does his legacy shape the work that you do?

Jamie DeMarco  14:08  

I am really lucky, I’m really privileged to have my dad be who he is. I, you know, grew up in a home where he was coming home every night and saying like, no, this is good. We’re working in Annapolis. And this is the headache we’re running into. And my mom also is an incredible advocate. And you know, she’s been working in Annapolis for years on a number of different issues. And, you know, sometimes like that would be the subject of family dinners like which legislators were doing what and how we were going to get around it. And so that was sort of like the water I was spinning in growing up. But I do think that there’s a certain amount to which you can’t see what your parents do as a thing that really could be applying to your life like it’s almost just too much like the default. And I do think that I had To go to Asheville and find advocacy on my own, in a different way, in order to feel like I had ownership of it, and I was like really choosing my path in my own way, so you know, you sort of have to leave home to find home. The home was always there waiting for me, but I just had to go find it somewhere else.

Charles Olsen  15:24  

Shifting gears again, what do you think the biggest challenge is that you face while working in climate activism?

Jamie DeMarco  15:30  

We’re doing something really hard. We have to change the hearts and minds of so many people about the way we live and the way we think about each other. And on top of that, we have to like, physically change the entire infrastructure of our world. Like in Montgomery county and Prince George’s County, they’ve been working on the purple line for like 15 years, and you know, it’s facing further delays, it may be another like, five years before it’s done. And that’s to build like one rail system. And in the coming decades, we need to literally overhaul our entire energy system. Like in the fight for marriage equality, we had to change a lot of hearts and minds. And once those hearts and minds were changed, we achieved marriage equality, and like now it is now the law of the land. In the climate fight, we have to change a lot of hearts and minds about how we live our lives and how we use our energy. And then once we’ve done that, we need to go into every home in America and retrofit it to electrify it. So there’s just a huge infrastructure challenge. No, nothing like this has ever been done at a global scale. And I think that’s part of again, where faith comes in. Because secularly looking at it, it’s really easy to become hopeless. And I think you need some sort of illogical belief that what we are doing is worthy and has a chance of success. And, and that’s what keeps me going a lot of the time.

Charles Olsen  17:09  

So often, we get caught up in the day to day work of saving the planet, you know, one policy at a time getting each thing done. Can you describe for me the world that you are fighting to achieve? For me personally, I fight for the possibility that my future kids, when they exist, will have a better world than the world that I grew up in. Can you paint me the picture of the world that you want?

Jamie DeMarco  17:35  

Yeah, that is a great question. And I first just want to answer by saying that I encourage everyone to check out Naomi Klein’s collaboration with the intercept, creating short videos describing the better world that we’re trying to make, because I think they do a better job of that creative visioning of how the world could be better than anything else that I’ve seen. But in broad strokes, like we’re envisioning a world, where like, every single person has inherent worth and dignity. And that is not just an idea, but a sort of guiding policy principle. So that we don’t have anyone who’s struggling to find food, but like certain things are just daring to, they don’t have anyone who’s been put out on the street in the cold against their will. Like we just people often say, and I think it’s really true that like if we really, if we didn’t have embedded racism, if we didn’t have the belief that certain people are expendable, then we never would have been in the climate crisis, because we never could have built the fossil fuel infrastructure infrastructure to get us here, without sacrifice zones. So this gets back to what we were talking about earlier, that part of the world we seek is just one that values human dignity and each person more because if we can achieve that world will not only solve the climate crisis, but we’ll make a better world. And I just like to have all these visions of worlds where energy is nearly free and bountiful. And food is nearly free and bountiful. And like people instead of worrying about what menial tasks they’ll do in order to scrape by in the living like, know that for the rest of their lives. They’ll have housing, food and health care guaranteed. And that they can pursue what creative pursuit they want to follow. Like, I would love to be a creative nonfiction writer, like I’m not good enough to make money at it, and I’m doing this other climate thing. So there’s like all these reasons in this world that could never work like in the world that I’m dreaming of. We don’t have systemic problems that we have to give our lives to to solve. And we all are free to pursue whatever we want creatively whether or not it’s going to make money. So that is a little pie in the sky, but In the world that I dream about, and I do fall asleep dreaming about it pretty often. 

Charles Olsen  20:04  

What do you want to achieve at CCAN? What are your main goals while working in your position?

Jamie DeMarco  20:13  

So as we’re talking, it’s October of 2020. And I really, really think that in the next seven months, we are going to pass the Clean Air Act of our time. Like I just like every fiber in my being is telling me but like, we can do this, you know, the Chesapeake Climate Action Network, I can say this, because we have actually endorsed Joe Biden, and some Senate, Democratic Senate candidates, checks the Climate Action Network Action Fund, I should say, has endorsed those candidates. And I think we’re going to have a democratic sweep of the White House in the Senate. And then we are going to pass like the biggest, boldest, fattest climate legislation that anybody could ever have imagined. And it’s going to be a total before and after, for the movement.

And for our missions, and for her world.

And in these next seven months, where all that is going to happen, I just want to test the Climate Action Network and the Chesapeake Climate Action Network Action Fund, to do all that we can to be useful, you know, we are a lean, mean, scrappy, local organization that has a history of punching above our way and like getting things done. And I want us to be as innovative, creative and effective as we can possibly be to make a difference in this national fight, because it’s going to be a national fight, it’s going to be a clash of Titans, there’s going to be players much bigger than us. But we are going to contribute all that we can. And the main thing that I want is for us to be useful. And for us to contribute something and make the bill better help the bill pass in some way. And on top of that, bring home the bacon for Maryland, which is the policy area that I’m in charge of additional federal work and Virginia where Kim is responsible. So bring home the bacon from Congress to Maryland and Virginia, and then help Maryland and Virginia build on national legislative success to pass what everyone used to think was impossible.

Charles Olsen  22:24  

If you could enact any one policy right now, what would it be? And why?

Jamie DeMarco  22:28  

For some reason, I’m really drawn to this policy of carbon, zero carbon electricity generation by 2035, with $2 trillion, to electrify everything, give a just transition for workers, and fund environmental justice, historical discrimination communities, and current discrimination communities. And that, of course, is the Biden climate plan, which I think it’s just jaw dropping, that he has endorsed and is advocating for and talks about it in the debate that he supports, eliminating all carbon emissions from the electricity sector by 2035. And then investing $2 trillion for justice, just transition and electrifying of everything. And that, like it was less than four years ago that Bernie Sanders was introducing a bill to achieve zero carbon electricity by 2050. So how far we have come since then, I just jaw dropping to me. And that’s the policy, I wouldn’t act. And that’s the policy I want to help get enacted.

Charles Olsen  23:39  

Before I let you go. I have to ask, Is there anything you would want to tell others, all of the young folk who are thinking of getting into activism or climate work, any advice that you would have for them just joining on?

Jamie DeMarco  23:53  

if you are a young person who’s interested in making a difference on climate, like there is no one who can make a bigger difference than you can. All the power that goes to Congress, all the power that goes into these national fights comes from the grassroots sort of lobbyists and super power lobbyists and grass tops, figureheads, like, they have no power without the field work of people on the ground. And I think at heart, I’m always going to be sort of like a field grassroots organizer because they just have such a romantic idealization and draw to like the person who is going out and like talking to one person and then talking to another person and making 10 phone calls but no one picks up and then having that one more phone call with it, get someone to take an action and building public weal that way. I think that’s where it all comes from. And you should sign up for just the Climate Action Network, find out how to get involved, and we’ll get you involved, and we’re going to make a better future together.

Charles Olsen  24:58  

Jamie, thank you so much for joining me, thank you so much for telling us your story. I really appreciate it.

Jamie DeMarco  25:04  

Thanks so much for interviewing me. This was really fun.

Welcoming our new Virginia Director

Welcome to CCAN, Kim Jemaine!

Just a few weeks ago CCAN had the pleasure of welcoming our new Virginia Director Kim Jemaine to our team and we are very excited to introduce you to her! Kim joined the team as our new Virginia director and will be leading us to future legislative victories in the commonwealth of Virginia. 

Originally from Pretoria, South Africa, Kim has called the Commonwealth of Virginia her home for the past 20 years. She obtained both of her degrees and Virginia, a Bachelor of Arts in international affairs from the University of Mary Washington, and a master’s in government with a concentration in law and public policy from Regent University. A lifelong advocate for democracy and environmental action, Kim  has brought her unique perspective to CCAN to fight for climate action in Virginia

We sat down with Kim to chat with her about her journey from Pretoria, South Africa to CCAN, her role in the climate movement, and what she sees as her most exciting challenge moving forward! Check out the interview below:

Follow along with the transcript below: 

Charles Olsen  0:00  

Kim Jemaine recently joined CCAN as our new Virginia policy director and will be leading us to further legislative victories in the state of Virginia. Originally from Pretoria, South Africa, Kim has called the Commonwealth of Virginia her home for the past 20 years. She obtained both of her degrees and Virginia, a Bachelor of Arts in international affairs from the University of Mary Washington, and a master’s in government with a concentration in law and public policy from Regent University. Kim, you’ve been working in climate policy and activism for some time now. Can you tell me about the first time you organize people? Was it something you were drawn to as a kid? How did you get into it?

Kim Jemaine  0:35  

Yeah, totally. So I would say that my initial interest in politics, working with people organizing didn’t come until a little later in life. When I was younger, I was really drawn to creative work. So I thought I wanted to be a choreographer or an artist. And I think that transition really happened in high school. For me, I was just involved in classes and conversations, and I really enjoyed learning about history government. And I think that’s where my interest kind of whispered, I think I also had the benefit of kind of coming into my own at the time when the Obama election was occurring in 2008. So it wasn’t necessarily the election itself. But I think just kind of the press coverage around that news coverage of the election and what was occurring in just the historic nature of the way he ran his campaign. So that really spurred an interest in politics for me. And then I went off to college the year after that. So I knew when I got to university that I wanted to do political work, I initially thought I wanted to do international affairs, and be a political correspondent outside of the country. But that work is hard to come by. And so when I graduated college, I just kind of found my way into electoral campaigns. And I really realized that there was this whole world behind campaigns and behind what you see on TV that kind of revolved around organizing people, getting them involved, mobilizing them, and helping them find a space in the electoral system. And I kind of just stuck within that work after I found that,

Charles Olsen  2:22  

yeah, I also was brought into politics and grew up in the age of Trump in the 2016 election is what activated me to become politically aware. So I completely understand having that monumental thing hanging over you.

Kim Jemaine  2:37  

Yeah, it can be a benefit. And it can be a little bit of a curse as well. So

Charles Olsen  2:42  

Exactly, yeah. Can you you’re originally from South Africa, can you tell me about any experience that you may have had growing up there that has influenced the way that you work and you organize today?

Kim Jemaine  2:54  

Yeah. So I would say I was actually pretty young when I moved away from South Africa. And I have kind of memories of apartheid ending, and really, people being engaged within the democratic system for the first time. But I think what really drew me to the work that I do is actually the absence. And because I moved to America, when I was around 10. And my family, my mother was pretty neat, was obviously new to the political system here and to voting into being engaged, civically engaged. And so I think a real benefit to me was that I didn’t like, unlike most American children, I didn’t have a kind of back priming, or that framing or that kind of family context that informs other people’s political views. And so I really gotta kind of develop my political views on my own, decide what my political values were in the work that I wanted to do on my own. And I think that really informed my politics and my way of thinking around the political system, the role of government, and the work we can do in state politics in federal politics. I think that absence of outside influences really allowed me to think through all of those aspects of government and what government should do for people on my own and develop that framework.

Charles Olsen  4:24  

That’s super interesting. You’ve gone into your experiences a little bit, getting politically active in following the 2008 election of Obama. Can you just real quick, run us through your resume, your professional experiences, what took you from growing up to going to school? How did you get here to see again,

Kim Jemaine  4:46  

When I moved to America, like I said, I had this kind of new start where I was able to form my own political views. And I really think that, like I said, I got involved with politics within both volunteering and with electoral campaigns through high school, and then in college, when I graduated college, I stumbled my way into the gubernatorial race in 2013. I really didn’t know much about electoral work, I was looking for internships, and I knew that I cared about politics, I knew that I cared about progressive causes. So I was just looking, hoping to find a place to do that work. And then like I said, I found my way, my way to this kind of world behind campaigns. And that was focused on mobilizing people, getting them involved in grassroots causes and getting them activated around things in issue areas that you cared about. And I did electoral issue advocacy work for a few years. And then I really realized that although I really enjoyed that work and was passionate about it, it is seasonal work, so it kind of takes a toll on your life. And I think the big thing for me was, I really wanted to find a way to get engaged with folks in a sustainable way. campaigns generally come in for a short period of time, you work with volunteers and other advocates for about six months, and then you disappear. And I didn’t want to continue to work in that context. So I decided to make that transition around then. The other thing for me was just working on elections, allows you a little bit of input, but I really wanted to do the work behind the scenes to inform policy to really find areas where people were suffering or where intersections were, were impacting people and find a way to help be so be part of the solution there. And I made a pretty deliberate choice to kind of pivot from electoral work to more policy related work public policy. And that’s what informed the decision to go back to school, I look pretty deliberately for Law and Policy programs within the state. And I got fortunate enough to about halfway through my master’s program to be offered a position with Virginia LCB, where I started as the public policy and communications associate, they really took a chance on me, they knew what my my way forward was, what I wanted my way for it to look like. But I didn’t have any experience in public policy and lobbying. At that time I had my electrical background, I had passion. But I really didn’t have that experience. So they really gave me that opportunity to grow, build my resume, and to just get to know the system here in Virginia get to see what it feels like to lobby and get to get my toe my feet in the water when it comes to environmental issues and climate change issues. And then with that experience under my belt, I came to CCAN.  

Charles Olsen  8:04  

What do you think your biggest challenge is that you face while working in climate activism? Do you find most of these challenges to be internal ones emotional? Or do you find them to be external from the work?

Kim Jemaine  8:17  

Yeah, so I think it’s a little bit of both. And I think they kind of intersect, I think part of it is just being a woman of color in this work can be difficult. And I think that kind of internal struggle comes from just being in a place where I don’t see a lot of people that look like you and often your tack to kind of be that voice. And that can be difficult, and it can make you question yourself. And obviously, imposter syndrome is real. And it is definitely a thing that happens within this work a lot. Because there’s a big weight on your shoulders. But then there’s also a moment of questioning whether you are the correct voice for that. I think that’s especially true for me, because I am an immigrant. I’m a fair woman of color. And so it can be a lot of internal struggle about whether or not I’m the right voice for certain fights. Despite the fact that people are looking to me, so that can be a struggle sometimes. And then I think the big thing is just I think the environmental community in Virginia often does great work in terms of their priorities and making sure that environmental justice is at the forefront of our work. But I think a lot of that work needs to be informed by frontline communities. And I think although we can tap those communities when we’re organizing and doing our grassroots work, grassroots work, we also need to make sure that folks are represented in our organizations and They have a real seat at the table. And so I think that struggle is one that I, I have a hard time with. And I think we we really need to do a good job and deliberate work to make sure that we’re addressing that moving for

Charles Olsen  10:18  

often we get caught up in the day to day work of saving the planet, one policy at a time. Can you describe to me the world that you’re fighting to achieve? For me, I fight for the possibility that my future kids I don’t have any today will have a better world than the world that I grew up in? Can you paint me a picture of the world that you want to create?

Kim Jemaine  10:39  

Yeah, definitely. So I do have a daughter. And I think just on a surface level, I want to make sure that there’s a sustainable and livable climate for her and her peers. But I think the big thing for me is that I’ve started thinking a lot in the last few years about how we often talk about these junctures of injustice as intersections. And the reality is that they’re not just points meeting on a map, they do intersect, but they also layer and they layer away in a way that really puts an undue burden on certain people. So those people are facing injustice, when it comes to wages they are facing injustices when it comes to access to jobs. They’re facing struggles when it comes to access to transportation, to the burdens of climate change, and environmental degradation. And those things aren’t just points that meet on a map, they’re things that just layer and layer to hold down certain segments of the population. And I’m not under the assumption that I’m going to be the person that addresses all of those issues. But I think, for me, I really want to be a part of lifting at least one or two of those layers and a part of that work. So we can really, like take some of that burden off the shoulders of certain segments of the population and do it in a way that doesn’t put the responsibility on them, but puts the responsibility on the system and the government in the structure that we’ve created that have placed that undue burden on them. So a few I am not under the assumption that it’s going to happen overnight. But I want to be part of this work to address those injustices.

Charles Olsen  12:26  

That’s super interesting. And that kind of brings me to one of my other questions. I grew up in a low income family in a redlined neighborhood on Long Island that was located with a landfill, just a few blocks away. And for so many years, the climate story, neglected environmental justice. And it’s been seen as something that sometimes, like you said, intersects every once in a while, but isn’t something that’s over layered. How has justice and as a black woman in America shaped your experience in the climate fight? And how do you think it’s going to shape the future of policy in the next big wave of environmental policies?

Kim Jemaine  13:07  

Yeah, I think I touched on that a little bit already. But I really do think that certain segments of the population just are getting burdened with low wages, income, inequality, the impacts of climate change on a day to day basis. And I really think the work needs to be deliberate, we need to take a good look at how the policies were enacted and the legislation that we’re enacting perpetuates that and how we can make sure that we’re working to counteract those injustices. I and I spoke briefly with our executive director, Mike about this when I first got hired, is that the reality is that the moment that we’re in when it comes to climate change right now, and with the Coronavirus, has really shown us how those those areas intersect and the impacts that they have on certain communities. And I think it has also shown us that we can’t really draw distinctions between injustice anymore. I think the work that we’re going to do in the climate arena is going to have to be informed by environmental justice and justice as a whole. Because I think for so long, we’ve kind of dipped our toes in the water in terms of environmental justice, every now and then. And I think moving forward when, when people’s lives are going to be impacted by climate change by poor air quality by rising sea level. I don’t think we’re going to be able to draw those distinctions anymore, and I think our work is really going to have to be led and framed by frontline communities. They’re going to have to have a seat at the table, table and we’re really going To make sure that their voices are centered, because I don’t think we’re going to be able to draw, like, delineate our work moving forward. And that’s a future I’m hopeful about. It’s something that I think we should embrace and really make sure that we hop on that train before it’s imperative and, and get ahead of the ball.

Charles Olsen  15:21  

Well said, Well said, Now, on a less serious note, who is one person in human history, people would be surprised that you admire.

Kim Jemaine  15:33  

So I don’t think it’s super surprising if you know me, but I think it is a little unexpected. And I think I would say Mary, Mary Oliver. She’s a poet, and she did some really great work, just writing about nature and our place in the world and kind of reverence for the world around us. And it’s something that really has centered me not just in my personal life, but in the work that we do. Just recognizing that we are this small speck on this in this world, and that we really should show appreciation and reference for the world around us and steward our natural resources more wisely So I would say Mary Oliver.

Charles Olsen  16:21  

How do you deal with the stress of climate change activism? I know just from my experience, and from talking to other people in the field, that this is a high stakes, high reward area, what do you do? Do you hike yoga? How do you get out of it?

Kim Jemaine  16:39  

So I think for me, that’s a good question. For me, I am a people person, I like chatting with people. I like getting to know people, I really thrive on relationships. So I tried to make sure that I have great people around me and invest in those relationships. I also in this work, have just found great allies, one of whom is Harrison, who had this role before me. And I think that that has really centered me in those times where like I mentioned earlier, imposter syndrome takes over, or I question my, my role within this space, relying on those relationships has really helped me. And then yes, I love hiking. Like I said, with Mary Oliver. And with everything about revering nature, it really does center me, it kind of brings me back to myself. And I like doing that with my friends by myself with my daughter. And it just helps me appreciate the world around me, it helps me stay calm. And it just makes you feel small, but also reminds you of the kind of responsibility you have to protect the world around you. So definitely hiking for Virginia is a beautiful place to live. And every time I go hiking, it reminds me of that. So that’s the short answer.

Charles Olsen  18:00  

I’m originally from New York. So I am quite biased in my love for Adirondacks hiking. But that’s a debate for another time. What do you want to achieve at CCAN?

Kim Jemaine  18:14  

Yeah, so I think I touched on this briefly in a few of my other answers. But I think for me, I just really want to make sure that C can, is deliberate in really thoughtful about the work we’re doing to ensure that environmental justice is centered as we combat the climate change climate crisis. I think, like I said, we’re not going to be able to avoid that work moving forward. The environmental community really needs to make sure that we’re centering those voices. And I think the big thing that drives me is, like I said earlier, I just want to do a small, be a small part of this solution to ensuring that certain communities have at least one area of burden or one, one layer of injustice lifted off their shoulders, whether it be in terms of where dumps are located or where environmental or where energy projects are situated, or whether it it is them being impacted by increased hurricanes, increased recurrent flooding, sea level rise, I just want to make sure that we’re taking a real look at who’s bearing the burden of those events, and doing the work on a policy and legislative front to make sure that we’re protecting those communities. And really ensuring that where we’re lifting some of their burden for their shoulder. So I want to lead my team to really be deliberate about answering those questions and being reflected reflective of how the work we do can further those goals? If you could enact any one policy right now?

Charles Olsen  20:05  

What would it be? You could do anything from a national fracking ban to a required Meatless Monday for all citizens? What would you do?

Kim Jemaine  20:13  

So I actually have been thinking about this a lot lately, and I went on a hike yesterday and thought about it, I think I would probably enact some kind of conservation land conservation policy. We did this when we enacted the land Water Conservation Fund. And I think it’s really something that we should be prioritizing moving forward, I think we really need to be good stewards of our land, and make sure that certain areas are protected. And that development doesn’t strip us away of all these beautiful places that used to be in the majority, and that we’re just kind of dwindling. And so I think I would really enact some kind of policy to ensure that our public spaces are protected, and that our public, our national parks are actually broadened. So certain certain areas are just protected from development, or projects or being exploited otherwise. So I think that would be long and short of it. And it might be informed by my love of hiking and being out in nature. But I think that would be it for me.

Charles Olsen  21:26  

Great, great answer. I have a public lands background. I interned at the Wilderness Society last summer. So for me, public lands, conservation and public lands policy is like, that’s it like, that’s the creme de la crop?

Kim Jemaine  21:43  

Yeah, absolutely. I, one of my big research areas that I worked on in grad school focused on public land conservation and the land Water Conservation Fund. And I just, I think it was a real testament to what we can do when we prioritize nature and the world around us in our public policy and within government. And I think if we got back to that, we’d be much better for it.

Charles Olsen  22:14  

Before we go. I have one last question for you. Is there anything you would want to tell others who are interested in this line of work? Any advice for the young folks who are just getting into college or coming out of college and jumping into the field? What would you say to them,

Kim Jemaine  22:32  

I think I would say that there’s a whole world kind of behind what you see on TV and behind what’s represented through our federal system. There’s a world where you can get involved in electoral campaigns, issue advocacy campaigns, where you can be part of driving policy lobbying, and advocating for certain legislative fixes. And it doesn’t have to be in the environmental sector. There are other progressive sectors and areas where there are plenty of opportunities to get involved in areas that you’re passionate about. And you just have to find those spaces. And I think for me, it was there was always this framing that it was work that was for specific people. And that was generally white men. And I think just finding the people that would advocate on your behalf and create a seat at the table for you was really pivotal to me finding this fake space. I had a couple of people who I worked under for years who really advocated for me, and they are the reason why I’ve been able to kind of grow into this work. And I think so. So I think the first part would just be finding those areas where you can actually actually advocate and create change in whatever area you’re passionate about. And then also finding people who you can create space for and who will do the same for you. I think, probably my top two tips.

Charles Olsen  24:05  

Amazing.  Thank you so much for joining me.

Kim Jemaine  24:08  

Thanks, Charlie.

Meet a CCANer: Jamie DeMarco

Tell me a little bit about yourself!

I grew up in northeast Baltimore and attended Warren Wilson College in western North Carolina, where I majored in Chemistry and Environmental Studies. Towards the end of undergrad I interned for the Chesapeake Climate Action Network, and when I graduated I got a job working at the Friends Committee on National Legislation. I helped found the Maryland Clean Energy Jobs initiative and then took a job working for the Citizens’ Climate Lobby. I was raised Quaker, and my faith community remains important to me today. 

What woke you up to the climate crisis?

Until I was a senior in high school, as far as I could tell the world was pretty hunky dory. Then my girlfriend told me, “Jamie, the lives we live come at the cost of people and places all over the world.” I was floored and could hardly live with myself and the consequences of my privilege. 

At first, I didn’t know what to do, so I tried to cut myself off entirely from the unjust system I grew up in. I stopped riding in cars and wouldn’t get in a car for years with only the very rare exception. Then, in college I started working on the Asheville Beyond Coal campaign. I saw the power of organizing, and we shut down that coal plant. I decided to stop trying to not be part of the problem and start trying to be part of the solution. 

What impacts of climate change currently hit home to you? 

A street in Baltimore after a heavy rain event.

I grew up in Baltimore, and my home city is now suing the fossil fuel industry for the costs that climate change has caused. The sewer system cannot handle the increased precipitation events. The inner harbor is flooding ever more regularly. Heat waves are killing more and more people in the city. Just a few years ago, the road my dad’s office is on collapsed from heavy rain and disrepair.  

What brought you to CCAN? 

I like fighting for and passing bold climate legislation. More than any organization I know of, CCAN picks an ambitious legislative goal, goes all out to campaign for it, wins, then does it again. 

I love Maryland and I wouldn’t want to live anywhere outside the Chesapeake watershed. Working at CCAN gives me the opportunity to stay connected to my roots while making a difference in local and national politics. 

What has inspired you most working with CCAN?

I have always been inspired by the dedication of supporters. It is clear that the greater CCAN family is deeply committed to climate justice and doing whatever it takes to achieve it. Whether it is phone banking for hours or jumping in the frozen Potomac, these people will do it. 

What have you contributed to bringing about a clean energy revolution that you are most proud of?

I have worked on a lot of successful campaigns including my college divestment campaign, the Asheville Beyond Coal campaign, the Maryland Fracking Ban, the Clean Energy DC Act, enacting the Oregon executive order, and others. The campaign worked most intimately on and put the most of my soul into was the Maryland Clean Energy Jobs campaign in 2019. 

What do you hope to see happen in terms of climate in the next year?

I think that by August 2021 we will have enacted the Clean Air Act of our time at the national level. After years of building, our movement has reached a crescendo and is now a top issue in national politics. I came to CCAN in part because I want to be part of making sure we do pass sweeping climate legislation in Congress.

What do you like to do when you’re not working on climate change?

What I value most is spending quality time with my friends and family, laughing, playing board games, and catching up. I enjoy running but still don’t run as much as I want to. I miss a lot of my friends now that we all have to social distance, but I also appreciate spending more time alone to relax. 

Who would you high five?

Bill McKibben. He’s the one who roped me into this mess. 

Meet a CCANer: Elle de la Cancela

Tell me a little bit about yourself!

I’m a New Yorker through and through! I grew up in the Riverdale neighborhood of the Bronx, before moving out in the northern suburbs of NYC where I finished high school. I went to college at the University of Chicago, graduating with a degree in Environmental Studies and a minor in Human Rights. I wrote my thesis on ecofeminism and cowboys, so ask me about ~the West~.

I was pretty burnt out on organizing post-grad, and realized that, while I was taught how to “think,” I didn’t know how to “do” anything. So I worked for federal land agencies building trails and fighting fires from Maine to California, lucky enough to be outside every day. Right before coming to CCAN, I was out in Des Moines, Iowa doing some electoral organizing for Bernie.  

What woke you up to the climate crisis?

I had always been an outdoorsy girl growing up, finding any excuse to hike, backpack, ski, cycle, or swim, but it wasn’t until I got to college that I realized the need for climate action now. I took an environmental politics class and read Naomi Klein for the first time, which moved me to join our divestment from fossil fuels campaign on campus. 

What impacts of climate change currently hit home to you? 

Right now, the increasing intensity and frequency of wildfires. I was on an engine for only a season out in California, but my old crewmates are out on the largest recorded burns in California history as I type. But some of us are feeling the heat here in Richmond too. Focusing on EJ has always been my MO and there are definitely fires of our own to fight here in Virginia. I’m ready to dig into my new home to build a more equitable world!

What brought you to CCAN? 

I have been lucky enough to travel all over the country doing work that felt important to me. CCAN is no exception. In the height of COVID-19, I knew that I needed to come back to the East Coast and continue to fight for a liveable future. We cannot wait on climate change, and CCAN has allowed me to act immediately and focus my efforts on those who are most impacted. 

What has inspired you most working with CCAN?

While I have received so many warm welcomes and great advice as I’ve started, I was truly inspired by the resistance fighters along the MVP route. Not to plug myself here, but I went into much more detail in my blog post.

What have you contributed to bringing about a clean energy revolution that you are most proud of?

Although my entry into climate organizing was divestment, I didn’t stick with that campaign too long. Quickly after joining then-UCAN (UChicago Climate Action Network), I started another campaign on campus to aid the Southeast Side’s Coalition to Ban Petcoke. This group of pro-bono lawyers, artists, activists, and community members fiercely fought the open storage of toxic particulate waste that was held in Koch brothers owned terminals and shipped in from the nearby BP oil refinery. The work that those amazing folks put in eventually garnered a city-wide ban on open storage of petcoke. I am incredibly grateful to have learned from them and the folks at the People’s Lobby.

What do you hope to see happen in terms of climate in the next year?

My bare minimum hope is a president that believes that climate change exists. GO VOTE!!

What do you like to do when you’re not working on climate change?

I’m a big nerd, so most of the time I’m reading fiction. I’m hyped for the post-rona world, whenever that may be, where I can join a band (playing guitar) and a team (playing rugby)! Until then, I’ll be rollerblading the Capital Trail and hiking in Shenandoah. 

Who would you high five?

Tough one! Have to go with Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. Gotta support a fellow socialist boricua from the Bronx!

The Climate Podcasts to get you through 2020

So we all know just how shitty this year has been… Starting the year off with catastrophic bushfires in Australia, then the emergence and spread of the COVID-19 pandemic, and now the cataclysmic wildfires raging in the American West. This year has been absolutely terrible for the planet and for a lot of the people living on it. As a self-proclaimed environmentalist and climate activist, It is way too easy to find myself overwhelmed with the sheer magnitude of the climate emergency. Every day we are inundated with information, news clips, articles, tweets, and so much more media that can oftentimes make us feel like we are going crazy. 

One way that I have been able to cut through all of the craziness is by subscribing to a few podcasts that help keep me grounded. I am a huge fan of podcasts. So much so, that I started my own in undergrad. I believe deeply in the format as a way for people to tell compelling stories to a wide audience without the traditional media filters. For decades conservative talk personalities have used the radio and podcasts to tell their stories and connect with their audiences. Not until recently have we begun to see a similar thing happening for the climate movement. In the past two years we have seen an explosion of fantastic climate journalism and excellent new formats for climate stories to be told to a wide audience. If you are new to podcasts or are looking for a solid place to start, here’s the list for you. 

Here is my list for the best climate podcasts that you need to listen to in 2020! 

 

Drilled

Drilled is an investigative journalism podcast (think along the line of Serial or your other favorite murder podcast) that investigates the propaganda campaign waged by the fossil fuel corporations to sow climate denial into modern American political discourse. This show is quite scary and is really hard to stop listening to. This is a great place to start if you ever find yourself lacking anger for the state of the world we find ourselves in today. 

 

Hot Take

Hot Take is a personal favorite of mine and a huge leap forward for climate change discussions. In this talk show style podcast, veteran journalists Mary Annaïse Heglar and Amy Westervelt “take an intersectional, critical, but constructive look at climate coverage—with the ultimate goal of making the conversation more productive and powerful. Not just bigger, but more inclusive.” This show is a great place to start if you are angry about the way that climate change has been covered in the media for the past two decades. This podcast deserves way more attention, not just because of the thoughtful discussions but also for the way that the hosts incorporate the emotional component of climate change. 

 

Inherited

So by now if you haven’t noticed yet, Critical Frequency is a podcast network that has been producing amazing climate podcasts. They just launched two new podcasts actually, one of which is Inherited. This show is written and produced by the generation that is currently fighting for the future of the climate. This show highlights “stories from, for, and by the youth climate movement.”  This show really gets me excited because it takes the lens of climate action away from issues and solutions and provides a human face for the work of saving our planet. Every person on earth has a story to tell, and the stories from the children, teenagers, and young adults that are fighting the climate fight are all unique.

 

 

Generation GND

In November of 2018, after the massive blue wave that carried progressive candidates into the halls of congress an idea was born. The Sunrise movement staged a sit-in at the office of soon-to-be house speaker Nancy Pelosi. At that demonstration newly elected Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez spoke and brought media attention to a growing movement of young people who demanded change. In the following February, AOC and Senator Ed Markey put forth a resolution to establish a Green New Deal. This podcast tells the story of the young people who are at the forefront of the climate movement. An excellent show that from the first listen fills you with hope and energizes you to take action. This show is another production from the Critical Frequency podcast network. 

 

This Land

What do two murders, a supreme court case, and indigenous land rights have to do with climate? More than you might think. This Land is an unbelievable podcast that follows the story of two murders in Oklahoma that formed the backbone of a recent supreme court decision that has “resulted in the largest restoration of tribal land in US history.” Follow along as host Rebecca Nagle, an Oklahoma journalist and citizen of the Cherokee Nation, connects the dots between these murders and the fate of half of the land in Oklahoma. By this point you might be asking yourself, “what does this have to do with climate change?” Which is a fair question. Climate change is the result of unchecked capitalism and colonialism. Indigenous issues, especially those regarding the sovereignty of their land, are deeply connected to the future of how we address the climate crisis. 

 

How to Save a Planet

Sometimes, navigating the climate crisis can be overwhelming. I’m sure many of you will read that sentence and think about just how much of an understatement it is, trust me, I know. How to Save a Planet is a hilarious and exciting new show that tries to make that a little bit better. It is so good, I binged the first four episodes on one run and got lost in my neighborhood! Hosted by Journalist Alex Blumberg and scientist and overall ba**ss  Dr. Ayana Elizabeth Johnson, this show brings you along as the hosts interview people and try to discover what we can do about the climate crisis. 

 

 

Facing it

On my first day of undergrad in August, 2017 I walked into my first class and took a seat at the front. I pulled out my notebook and waited patiently for the class to start. In that class we all sat together and read the New York Magazine article, The Uninhabitable Earth, by David Wallace Wells. Since then, Wells published a book with the same title. This piece of writing was the first time I experienced climate anxiety. Facing It explores the emotional aspects of the climate crisis and how anxiety and despair are keeping people from acting on climate. This series also explores the unequal distribution of the emotional toll of climate change on frontline communities. 

 

 

Think 100%: The Coolest Show

Along with the amazing name, this podcast really does have it all. Produced by the Hip Hop caucus and their Think100% campaign, this show is a weekly dive into all things climate justice. The first season of this show is a deep exploration of environmental and climate justice, while their second season is centered around interviews with those at the center of the climate movement that are making huge steps forward. This show is a fun and informative podcast that makes me feel hopeful and energized.

 


Heated

Are you angry about the climate crisis? So is Emily Atkin. She is a climate journalist who created her own newsletter where she does in-depth analysis and fantastic reporting on the climate crisis every week. In this limited run series, Emily Atkin explores the connections between the concurrent crises of COVID-19 and climate change and how they are at times inseparable. 

 

 

 

No Place Like Home 

No Place Like Home is another podcast produced by the Critical Frequency network and another show that places human experiences front and center in the climate conversation. This podcast takes the stories of people who are connected to our environment and shines a spotlight on how beautiful those connections are. Through interviews and amazing sound design and storytelling, this show makes you feel a little less alone in the climate movement and grounded in the work we do. I decided to end with this show because I truly believe in the power of storytelling. I believe that the human experience, no matter how different or divided we may be, is shared. We all are stuck in this existence together and we all share so much in common. Storytelling is one of the oldest traditions of our species. It is what allowed us to build the civilization we live in today. 

 

Not sure where to begin? I recommend checking out this great post from our Hampton Roads organizer Lauren Landis where she talks about her love for podcasts and gives some solid recommendations for specific episodes. 

Podcasting is a unique form of communication that allows us to tune into stories and conversations that we generally wouldn’t. It allows us to create a community in ways that talk radio and other forms of storytelling have not allowed. 2020 has been a rough year for a lot of us in the climate movement, but I believe that with this new wave of climate storytelling, we can get through the challenges ahead of us together. 

What climate podcasts do you listen to? Shoot us an email at info@chesapeakeclimate.org

White Paper: Why the Eastern Shore Pipelines are a Bad Investment for Maryland

The Eastern Shore of Maryland–ground zero for sea-level rise caused by global warming–is facing two proposed gas pipelines. We are  concerned that expanding gas infrastructure to the area is an expensive, short-sighted option for the region. While studies have shown that there are cheaper, viable alternatives to gas, including electrification and geothermal energy, the State of Maryland didn’t consider any of these options. Instead, it only requested applications for a gas pipeline to supply gas to two state-run facilities.

The economics of gas are faltering, with hundreds of gas companies expected to declare bankruptcy by the end of next year. These bankruptcies, combined with Maryland’s commitment to tackling climate change through electrification of buildings, raises concerns that investing in new gas infrastructure will lock ratepayers into paying for decades for a product that will not be viable for that long. 

This new white paper, prepared by CCAN with help from our partners at the Maryland Chapter of the Sierra Club and the Wicomico Environmental Trust, outlines our concerns about the economics of these pipeline projects, details how Maryland has cheaper, cleaner options, and also debunks the promise of “renewable” natural gas.

Through a Newcomer’s Eyes: Grounding Myself in People and Place Along the Mountain Valley Pipeline Route

By Elle de la Cancela

Maury called me throughout the whole drive over.

It was welcomed, as I trekked my way through the mountains and into Monroe County, West Virginia. He told me where to stop for cheap gas, which snacks I should grab, and the turns I would take down gravel roads to get to Sweet Springs. I knew nothing of the area. I had only just moved from New York to Richmond three weeks earlier — my car was still heavy from the last of my things. 

I was there to tour the route of the Mountain Valley Pipeline. Told that my new position with CCAN would include fighting the Mountain Valley Pipeline, I knew I had to get a handle on the project and get in touch with the local resistance fighters. I had spent the week prior preparing myself, planning the logistics and buying supplies. But I was overwhelmed with what I actually witnessed. The contrast between the kind, caring folks I met and the sheer negligence of a company hell-bent on delivering unneeded fracked gas through farms, backyards, and public land was dizzying.

 

Maury Johnson in front of the right-of-way by his property

I arrived at Sweet Springs Resort, currently non-functioning but with a deep history. Maury Johnson acted as my tour guide these first few days. An expert in the area, he has filed over 180 violations (of sediment and erosion control, incorrect storage, among others) caused by the pipeline he has personally identified along the route. He explained that Sweet Springs Resort, named for the hot springs nearby, was a hotel for a period of time and the current property owner planned to restore it. When I inquired further into the past, he said that this spring originally belonged to native peoples (mostly likely historical Eastern Sioux lands of the Yesa Confederacy, but he never specified), and that there had been a massacre to acquire the land. This was an orienting way to start my trip: the aggressive reminder that we are all on stolen land. As I interacted with those whose properties were taken through eminent domain to build the pipeline, I remembered the long history of abuse and land theft. 

Before we began our destruction tour, Maury pointed out three different water bottling plants and a few other springs resorts, touting that Peters Mountain has some of the best water in the world. Water is not just an attraction, but a source of manufacturing and a major economic driver. The pipeline’s presence threatens that. We first must consider the runoff, erosion and sediment deposited in this karst zone (meaning that there are underwater rivers and caves throughout the region) from construction alone. And keep in mind that with every project there is a possibility of leakage, which would poison the water in the whole region. This is not just folks’ drinking water and health we’re talking about (which should be reason enough to halt the project), but their livelihoods. 

We drove in our separate SUVs, communicating by walkie talkie because of COVID concerns and its rising rates in the county. Maury stopped in the middle of the road to take a picture of a box turtle (they’re doing a study, he informed me) and safely delivered it to the other side. I can think of no better way to describe the folks in this fight — attentive and driven to preserve life. As we pulled up to the right-of-way at Pence Springs, my heart sunk. Lush green hills were stripped down to a 125-foot clearing. Along the edges of the stream were splitweed and ironweed, yellows and purples dotting the water before it opened up to a massive treeless zone. Here the pipe had already been put in the ground. It hasn’t held any gas and never will, if we have anything to do with it.

Other areas I came across were not nearly as “finished.” While MVP claims that they are 92% done, I cannot say I saw even half of that during my time. At only a few locations did I see the yellow topped markers indicating that the pipe was in the ground. Most of the route was vast dead zones. In the most “completed” areas, pipe was welded and staged with no trench to be seen. In other areas, the pipe wasn’t even staged — segmented and piled, left out to bake in the sun for years since they were placed there. These pipes and their coating aren’t supposed to sit out for more than one year, but I saw some dated 2017. 

Pipe dated 2017

In other areas, it seemed utterly uncleared. Because of the stop work orders in place (status uncertain due to the recent biological opinion), several sections in Giles County had time to regrow for the past two years. Nature is resilient; the ecosystem in these areas will restore itself. As long as we stop gas from ever entering these pipes, there is a chance to bring these areas back.

During my time on the route, I was able to visit the Yellow Finch Tree Sit as they marked their two-year anniversary. The right-of-way here looked particularly rotten —  horrible, steep, brown, with big white tarps over it — a band-aid to control MVP’s numerous erosion violations. It looked like a black diamond ski slope with its steep drop-offs, but far wider than any expert run would be. I hiked up a logging road, imagining what a terrible sight it must have been for those at camp as thousands of trees like the ones they were sitting in were trucked out. With a wave of death snaking through the hills in one direction, the other view held a hand-felled cut, leading right up to a remaining stand of trees on the route. From this height, I could see a little bit of white amidst the canopy — a poster draped over one of the sits. As gut-wrenching as it was to see all of that barren land, this little section imbued some much-needed hope in me. I hiked down to get a look at the sits from below. 

There were three platforms about fifty feet up in the trees. They had buckets and pulley systems, banners and tarps. Beneath them were big umbrella-like barriers to prevent anyone from climbing up. MVP had only sent one surveyor who had climbed once – to spike a tree, killing it, where a sitter’s platform was staged. These folks are willing to put their bodies on the line and break the law for what they know is right. It reminded me of other fights against injustice, and the presumed “illegality” of human bodies when they are in certain spaces. Social justice and environmental justice are joined in so many ways — like how climate refugees will only increase with extreme weather

Anniversary day was a weird one – celebratory for the staying power of the Yellow Finch tree-sitters — but deeply tired. Yellow Finch hasn’t had many visitors other than stalwart suppliers due to COVID-19, but last weekend about ten of us visitors sat apart from each other in the dirt, trying to make the most of it. Folks walked around drinking beer and eating cakes with antifascist slogans. While morale was high that day, there was the explicit hope that we all wouldn’t be there next year. These tree-sitters want to go home, to not have to face another winter out here in the cold. In full organizer mode, I asked what I could do to help – did they need material resources, what sorts of media should I send their way, etc. At one point, I received a blank stare: “Just stop the pipeline.” It was a sobering moment. The tree sits are a stalling method for the tedious legal, policy, and media work – for those of us who are down here safely on land to do our jobs and stop this pipeline from ever being completed. We all have our place in this fight; we too have a vital part to play.

My trip was coming to a close around Labor Day, which I spent with Russell Chisholm, the leader of a coalition of local “preserve” groups called POWHR. I drove into the Newport Village Green to meet him, welcomed by a sign stating “You are now entering the blast zone.” Unlike my experiences with Maury, we didn’t visit the private landowners affected, but instead travelled along the Forest Service land that had been permitted for construction. The thought of this alone is unsettling — a forest that is supposed to serve the public good and is highly frequented by campers is now zoned to have a massive 42-in pipeline running through it. Forty-two inches is a huge diameter: I stood next to these wide tunnels, and realized I could easily crawl inside.

We approached the right-of-way through the Jefferson National Forest, a steep path that included several hard right angles. As we pulled in, we saw that posted up on a tree were notices that this area — of public land — was off-limits due to construction. To circumvent our inability to walk the site, Russell brought out a drone — a very helpful tool in catching when and where construction begins again. That day it showed me a longer stretch than I could imagine — a trail of brown bobbing over ridges through the otherwise verdant forest. The aerial view from the drone showed me the magnitude of this project — of how much has gone to waste when the MVP is cancelled like the long-fought Atlantic Coast Pipeline. 

There are countless other horror stories I could share: of retirement dream homes built from scratch t on old family property that was completely bisected by the pipeline; of flower beds outside kitchen windows torn up for an easement less than 100 feet away; of a sinkhole caused by boring into CARST zones near a couple’s chicken coops; of an organic farm that will disappear if the pipe is filled with gas. I have the happier stories, as well: of posters, walls and cars painted in anti-pipeline slogans; the jokes and onion rings among the trees; the fresh country eggs that were gifted to me for breakfast; the folks that opened their homes and their hearts to me as I slept in their backyards. 

I drove the three hours back to Richmond meditating on what I had seen. Resolved and directed, I am acutely aware of my place in the fight. You too have a place. 

The fight’s not over. September 11 is the FINAL DAY to submit comments to FERC to oppose the extension to the MVP. The deadline to file a comment is 5pm this evening. You can sign the CCAN public comment here or file a personal comment of your own through FERC with this toolkit

Please also donate to Appalachians Against Pipelines in support of the Yellow Finch Tree Sit, POWHR or CCAN. We will always be outspent by MVP — only we can fund our collective liberation.  

Just Senior Year of College Things: Navigating Unpredictability, New Chapters, and A Global Pandemic

Written by Ravena Pernanand

Unexpected emails and last-minute packing

When the first whispers of COVID-19 were emerging in the United States, I was packing my luggage and boarding a 4am flight at JFK airport. An impending pandemic was the last thing on my mind. Rather, I was preoccupied with the tasks that awaited me at the commencement of my semester abroad in Amsterdam: grocery shopping, introductions, and a much needed nap. Needless to say, I slept like a log when orientation activities came to a close. 

Honor, a best friend from my school at home, was also taking part in the same exchange program as me. I constantly reminded myself of how thankful I was for her presence throughout the difficulties of adjusting to a new culture. Her guidance and serene disposition always balanced my moments of frantic anxiety and paranoia, these traits were most apparent when the universe threw a wrench into our semester. The weeks leading up to the dreadful email from our home institution were surreal. In the rainy Amsterdam mornings, we dragged our bodies out of bed and trudged along the cobblestone streets to class, pointing out our favorite houseboats lining the canals. On the weekends we filled ourselves to the brim with cheap wine and stroopwafel and navigated the tram system to newly discovered destinations. I often felt like I was watching my life occur from the outside as I shed old skin and re-emerged as a happier and more resilient version of myself. Somehow, five weeks managed to feel like a lifetime.

A continual buzzing sound always existed in the background of these newly formed moments, growing in volume until we had no choice but to acknowledge it. It started with reports of the virus, dubbed “corona,” circulating around Europe. “Use precaution when traveling” our program directors would say in emails that ended in soothing reassurement that the semester would proceed as planned. The background noise seemed to have a blinding effect as well. Even when friends on exchange programs in China and Italy began packing their luggages 15 weeks early, there was a disconnect between our perceived world and theirs. “Yea, it happened in Italy, but we’re totally fine–it won’t spread  here.” But slowly, the sound filled every room, every conversation, and previously suppressed thought. 

On a Wednesday morning in March, I awoke to emails of US schools closing. Twitter memes and angry Instagram stories emerged from the recesses of the digital world. When I put my phone down, I could re-enter the alternate reality that COVID-19 had not yet managed to fully consume.

On a Thursday morning, only five of the twenty wooden chairs in my Dutch language class were occupied. It seemed that many students had returned back to the States, instructed by worried parents and fast acting educational institutions. I walked home in a confused haze. Looking back on this moment, it’s laughable that I had the audacity to be shocked by these events. In the last three weeks, exchange students all around me had been falling off the European map and into airplane seats headed home.

On a Friday evening at 11pm Central European Time, the upper lefthand corner of my pillowcase began to glow. I turned my phone from its facedown position to find an email from my school: “Important Notification for Hamilton Students in Europe,” flagged red, an endless scroll of instructions for returning home, demands bolded in black, the gravity of the situation underlined in the sender’s tone.

On a Sunday morning I awoke as Amsterdam lay in a pre-dawn slumber. Sluggishly, Honor and I cleared the remaining boxes and trash bags from our studio apartment, filled with uneaten stroopwafel and recyclable glass bottles once filled with cheap wine. In a time before N95 surgical masks were added to the list of things to grab before heading out the door, (phone, keys, wallet…what am I forgetting? Ah, facemask!), I stood outside my apartment building and filled my lungs with air. 

Self care, community, and silver linings

Upon landing home and resettling into both the familiar and unfamiliar, I’ve had time to do nothing but contemplate. In fact, it feels like the universe has forced contemplation upon me like undeserved purgatory. I’m all for self reflection, but the lines between insanity and deep thought can become blurred, a spell that can only be broken by preheating the oven and willing the premature bananas on the counter to quicken their process. 

Ironically enough, in self isolation the importance of community has never felt more powerful to me. As I struggled to mold a routine from quicksand and my anxiety reached an all time high, the zoom calls and group chats kept me afloat. My friendships were silver linings: a source of calm and comfort. Though in a time when teetering from one extreme to another can become habitual, the notion of self care began to redefine itself for me: How much time was too much screen time when the outside world is only accessible through a screen? Could I interact with my friends while still taking time for myself? Was I comfortable with being alone? Do I really need to make another loaf of banana bread this week? 

This time of reflection has allowed me to understand the things that remind me of my humanity and that make me feel connected to others. Quarantine can feel stagnant and cold, but it has also been a time of extreme change. Babies have taken their first breath, couples have tied the knot, and social movements have erupted since the world has shut down. In a constant effort to feel and exist and breathe freely again, people have managed to reach each other from all ends of the world. Empathy has managed to persist even when leadership and institutions have shown callousness and ignorance. Working at CCAN this Summer has been another silver lining, an opportunity to feel connected to this outside world, a community built on a foundation of empathy. Though the physical distance and computer screens attempt to muffle this experience, my superiors and co-workers have filled this void with communication, warmth, and morale. 

As I ready myself to return to campus in the coming weeks, these concepts float around in my head: empathy, community, care, communication. I can choose to view my senior year as an experience hindered by a global pandemic. Many people are angry at lost opportunities and muted versions of their old lives, they are entitled to this anger. But in times of adversity people manage to be the most resilient versions of themselves. They shed old skin and re-emerge stronger. 

Finding Hope in the Unglamorous Climate Fights

Written by Alice Bell

I’ve always been drawn to the weird, kinda-niche parts of fighting climate change; divestment, the ins and outs of building energy codes, and so on. They’re deeply necessary, but feel sneaky because they can be very complex and don’t always get lots of airtime – they’re less obvious than renewable energy, bicycles, or LED bulbs. 

And I’ve been looking for these hidden bits my whole life. When I was in elementary school, I was a “Recycling Ranger” for two years, staying after school with other students to collect and sort the recycling from all the classrooms in the building to ensure the school kept up the program – my parents still ask me if certain things can be recycled or not. They did give us little hats with the recycling symbol on them, but it still wasn’t glamorous – it just needed doing and it was small enough for a nine-year-old to help with. 

From Recycling to Divesting

I heard about the divestment movement as a first-year at Smith College in 2017. Divestment at the college level is a topic and a strategy full of minute contradictions, multi-school organizing meetings, bureaucratic wrangling, and incredibly obscure jargon – so, of course it interested me. To divest from something refers to the choice to remove one’s investments from fossil fuels, and can be interpreted narrowly or broadly – it can also apply to other issues, such as private prisons and gun manufacturers. 

Divest strategy meeting 2019 (Alice is on the right)

My role for two years has been as a student representative to the ACIR, the advisory body for the investing committee of the board of trustees. The gulf between the students and the trustees is comically large, and also not – they are tasked with keeping Smith endowed for decades to come, while we are trying to graduate with a livable planet. Smith has a very large endowment, and as an historically women’s college, likes to think of itself as somewhat revolutionary – educating women in the 1890s and 1900s certainly went against the grain. But investing in fossil fuels is the antithesis of “being revolutionary” – in fact, it goes directly against everything we need to be doing about climate change. 

While working on divestment, my fellow students and I had to get really smart about economics, endowment structures, and institutional investing really quickly, and it was stressful and hair-raising. Spending all those hours online reading articles and jumping through bureaucratic hoops to get the board to even consider our ask took teamwork and a lot of dedication, from generations of students — but it worked. The divestment movement at Smith was twelve years old when we won a commitment from the board in October 2019 to divest the school’s endowment of fossil fuels

COVID Summer

Jules making dinner after work

Jules, one of my best friends, and I had big plans for summer 2020. We met during an eight-month political science intensive in DC last year, and we were planning to live in DC again, together; she would continue her public defense work, and I would continue my work on climate change. We would compost, bike, read, watch bad movies, and get to know this city that I grew up in and that she was transplanted to. Make no mistake, we were blindingly privileged to be able to have such plans, in part because Smith has funding for unpaid internships. 

But then the pandemic hit and her position was canceled and other internships became very thin on the ground. And out of this came my internship with CCAN, an organization that I’d been hearing about since childhood, as a communications intern, allowing me to use my love of writing and art in service of environmental activism. 

Behind the Scenes at CCAN

Every organization has a personality and an environment behind-the-scenes. Before this summer, I had spent a lot of time doing research and working on federal environmental policy. The problems there are connected but incredibly different, and the approaches are consequently different. 

I’m the communications intern, and while I love writing (even final papers), I had never done the kind of serious social media work that CCAN has taught me. Communication is a central part of the climate fight, but so is the minutiae of social media; understanding what kinds of tweets do and don’t work; how to write an event invite that engages people; refining op-eds; preparing live tweets for protests and rallies; creating and tweaking graphics for every event. Without devoted attention paid to these kinds of issues, a crucial link is lost. 

Despite working out of my parents house, never once seeing the office, and connecting with others at CCAN primarily over Slack and in Zoom happy hours, I’ve been able to build new relationships and contribute to this immense problem in my own small way. CCAN works in DC, Maryland, and Virginia, the DMV region I love so much and have been so lucky to grow up in. But this work also reflects the need to stay small; not everything can be addressed at the federal level, and we need local and regional work to really ensure communities are being adequately supported, and unique problems are being properly addressed. 

Sitting in on weekly team meetings, I’ve been able to see the tiniest hint of the work that goes into each campaign, each ask, each article published, and event hosted. Each victory, from passing the VCEA to stopping the ACP and whatever comes next, is the product of huge behind-the-scenes work and specific knowledge gained from all those who have been in this fight longer. More even than that, working specifically on communications for the first time has taught me more about how to make those shadowy topics and distinctions, the niche and sneaky parts of climate change clearer and more accessible. 

Staying Small

It can be hard to see the importance of “smaller” battles and these hidden dimensions can feel very removed from the bigger problem; I struggle against the frustration that we even have to fight on the small scale like this, when climate change should have been dealt with as the massive, urgent problem it is. After I got the news that Smith was divesting, I went back to my desk at work, struck by the incredible tension between this victory and the bigger, more stubborn needles that hadn’t moved. 

But the small battles keep you in community. I’ve met some incredible friends working on divestment, and been able to see the impact of that victory in life on campus. I got to hang out with my friends and run in the halls while collecting the recycling, big stuff for an elementary schooler. We can’t all lead marches or speak to congressional committees, nor should we, but there are a million levels to work at and a million connections to climate in everything we do. And there are local battles going on everywhere, uncountable and ever-changing – it feels like being part of an army I may never see entirely, who’s power we can only guess at because it’s bigger than anything we’ve ever seen before. 

Mountains around Smith College