By Say Sánchez Environmental Studies/Political Science Major, Hunter College ‘21 (CUNY) on behalf of Hubbard Brook Research Foundation

The recent confirmation of the new secretary of the U.S. Department of the Interior, Deb Haaland, marks a significant milestone for the environmental sector. Haaland, an enrolled member of the Pueblo of Laguna, is the first Indigenous woman to hold a presidential cabinet position and now holds significant influence over the management of 500 million acres of U.S. lands, natural resources, and wildlife habitat. Haaland’s confirmation is monumental for many BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, People of Color) in the U.S. who remain vastly underrepresented within the environmental sector. Yet, her confirmation also serves as a reminder of the work that remains to be done.

Throughout my later teenage years, I had begun to develop an incessant desire to partake in greater outdoorsmanship and environmental advocacy. Being new to the outdoors and the environmental movement, I felt reasonably out-of-place, although this feeling was greatly exacerbated by the fact that the people in the REI and L.L. Bean catalogues I sifted through, the people I came across on hikes, and the people who seemingly made up the majority of the environmental sector were and still are primarily white. As a Mexican immigrant, I became distinctly aware of the fact that I did not necessarily fit the mold of what a typical environmentalist looked like, and was somewhat put off by the idea that there was/is a glass ceiling to be broken.

While trying to find a strong foothold within the environmental movement, my then-teenaged self had to quickly learn that the environmental sector has a history of excluding minority groups. These exclusionary white spaces are embedded within environmental education, both at secondary and higher levels, making it even more difficult for BIPOC to break the metaphorical glass ceiling previously alluded to. In 2017, for example, 68.7% of all Environmental Science degrees were awarded to white students.  

This discrepancy is even more severe at the policy level. Racial and ethnic minorities compose about 40% of the U.S. population, but only 12% of the staff of U.S. government environmental agencies and NGOs. Failure to extend environmental outreach to minority and low-income communities may be partially at fault, along with the lack of personal representation BIPOC might see within environmental organizations that dissuades them from getting further involved. Along with this, out of 21 different environmental leaders from NGOs, foundations, and government agencies, just 50% from each classification expressed support for initiatives that promote diversity and minority inclusion within their organizations. Though this can certainly be the result of internalized racism and xenophobia within these leaders, it may also be the result of unwillingness to allot time and money towards these initiatives. Regardless, this leads to an environmental decision-making process that is significantly void of BIPOC, and disproportionately dominated by white individuals. 

While one might reasonably conclude that many BIPOC are simply not interested in our environment, it is clear that many display striking concern for environmental issues whilst simultaneously being among the worst affected by these problems. This has been clear throughout the Flint Water Crisis, which demonstrated that  long-term exposure to particulate matter is closely associated with racial segregation, and that Black and Latino people are exposed to 38% higher residential nitrogen dioxide concentrations than their white counterparts. Furthermore, 69% of Hispanics/Latinos and 57% of Black Americans demonstrated greater concern for environmental issues such as global warming, while only 49% of whites demonstrated the same. Additionally, Black and Latino people have demonstrated deeper care for the environment than whites, and therefore show an increased potential to contribute greatly towards climate action. As such, concern for the environment is abundantly clear among BIPOC, but the role BIPOC can play in the larger environmental movement is ultimately limited. This is arguably due to the fact that many BIPOC remain victims in larger narratives that often require more immediate personal attention. 

For a close white friend, for instance, our junior year of high school consisted of her finding her place within the environmental movement, picking up environmental advocacy, and adopting a vegan lifestyle. For me, that same year consisted of the draining DACA application process, visiting lawyers and having to assert why, at 16 years old, I deserved to be in a country I had spent my entire life in.

Although such abstract immigrant experiences demanded time and energy that may have been better spent finding my own place within the environmental movement earlier in life, the simple experience of being a POC has similarly derailed my attention from our environment. While hiking in Upstate New York, for instance, it is profoundly difficult to peacefully admire the aspens and cedars on secluded trails when you know there are houses only minutes away proudly displaying Confederate flags and other racist imagery on their front lawns.

More tangible fears and realities faced by BIPOC that similarly bar their enjoyment of the natural environment further exemplify this. Last February, Ahmaud Arbery, an unarmed Black man on a jog outdoors, was killed while trying to do what his white counterparts can without fearing they might be targeted for the color of their skin. A month later, false reports were made against Black urban farmer Marc Peeples simply because he was ‘gardening while Black’. In May, avid birdwatcher Christian Cooper had the police called on him in the Central Park Ramble by a white woman for no plausible reason, though she found it necessary to inform the police he was an African-American man. These are not isolated cases, but an incessant reality for many BIPOC in the United States -- especially Black people. 

Ultimately, people who regularly deal with racism and xenophobia can be expected to nearly always prioritize these issues first because they affect their livelihoods in a more immediate manner than most environmental issues -- this, of course, excludes those who are victims of environmental racism. 

As such, until social justice issues are addressed in a mitigative manner to the point that marginalized communities can take more time to be concerned with environmental issues, there truly is little foreseeable progress for the environmental movement. Climate change mitigation, and the related implementation of mitigative policy requires intersectional environmental advocacy, without which little may be accomplished. 

Furthermore, addressing the white-dominance of the outdoors is similarly central to integrating BIPOC into the environmental movement and increasing environmental advocacy. Higher outdoor recreation has been tied to higher environmental concern since the first Earth Day demonstration in the 1970s, which may yield greater environmental advocacy as a result. 

Developing a visceral connection with the Earth is thereby integral to the development of greater concern for the issues facing our planet today. By making the environmental sector more inclusive at some of its most fundamental levels, we can ensure the long-term sustainment of our shared planet, and increase intersectional activism for a common goal. 

Furthermore, the long-time exclusion of racial and ethnic minorities within the environmental sector has only bolstered the stereotype that BIPOC are unsuited for environmental pursuits. This in turn has arguably prevented many BIPOC from comfortably pursuing things such as outdoorsmanship or environmental advocacy.

Even now, as a regular hiker and someone who intends to pursue a career within the environmental sector, I continue to feel out of place due to a lack of belonging. While much of this is likely due in large part to my own non-American upbringing, this out-of-placeness has become magnified as I have gotten older and taken note of the fact that Mexican immigrants such as myself have not always been well-represented within the environmental movement.

As such, while Biden’s election of many BIPOC to high-ranking offices that influence environmental decision-making is awe-inspiring for many minority groups, we should recognise that such gestures are undeniably long overdue. Nevertheless, by continuing to increase the visibility of, as well as uplift the voices of, BIPOC in the environmental-decision making process, we can subsequently minimize the barriers that prevent racial and ethnic minorities from following environmental pursuits. This can include greater outdoor recreation and fluency, a degree and career in the environmental sciences, and above all, greater environmental advocacy. 

By taking a multi-pronged approach that simultaneously addresses income barriers and educational barriers, we can hope for the necessary intersectional environmental advocacy that will bring about policy change, tackle environmental racism, and address the climate crisis. The hope that there will someday be more Deb Haaland’s and Michael Regan’s thus appears significantly more tangible, and provides a beacon of light for the health of our planet.

Notes from the writer: This article was inspired by U.S. President Joe Biden's nomination of Deb Haaland, an indigenous woman, to a significant position of power within the environmental sector. The inclusion of BIPOC in important environmental decision-making processes has often been low, and as such Haaland's nomination is monumental for many BIPOC wanting to work within the environmental sector. Throughout the op-ed, I note some of my own experiences in trying to maintain a foothold within the broader environmental movement, while supplementing it with data and resources providing evidence for the long-time exclusion of minorities within the environmental sector in the United States. I offer possible resources and solutions, with links to academic journals and articles.