People often ask me what the environment has to do with poverty and why communities of color are getting so active in the fight against climate change.

Earlier this week, Green For All released a video that gets to the heart of the matter.

A New Sound communicates both the pain of the old economy and the promise of a new and clean one. It is a moving depiction of why we need an inclusive green economy -- one that builds safer streets and cleaner communities. 

It illustrates why we need a vibrant movement for change and opportunity.  It is why we need a new sound.

Watch the video and share A New Sound.

Related Links:

Climate Hope: Inspiring 2009 Books for Clean Energy

Chuck Norris on Copenhagen

Tom Friedman on “What They Really Believe”

A local irrigation project in southern India.Courtesy Michael Foley Photography via FlickrGeorge Black has a fascinating story about how India might lift its people out of poverty without torching the environment in the current issue of OnEarth, the magazine run by the Natural Resources Defense Council.

Written largely as a travelogue through clean energy innovations in northern India, Black’s narrative considers the three essentials the country aspires to deliver to its billion-plus citizens—water, energy, and mobility.

The story includes the requisite bleak facts, like India’s booming population, its over-reliance on coal-fired electricity, the melting Himalayan glaciers that will threaten water supplies, the squalor of slum life, the poor planning of traffic-choked mega-cities, and so on.

The story also includes the requisite rays of hope, like a local water-user’s association in the western desert state of Rajasthan. The jal sabha, or co-op, created its own management plan for a large pond, posting local guards to ensure it wasn’t contaminated and allotting the water supplies democratically. Black observes:

More interesting, though, is Black’s argument that India’s best bet is to harness the entrepreneurial zeal of its people in finding solutions to energy, climate, and development problems. In a very big country, looking for big fixes might be the very worst approach, especially with a government famous for its bureaucratic stagnation and culture of corruption. For a short time I lived near one such big fix, the Tehri hydropower dam in the mountains north of Delhi. Not only did the Tehri Dam, 100 feet taller than the Hoover Dam, displace hundreds of villagers. It was also built atop an earthquake zone. Among locals there was a pervasive sense it was designed by New Delhi and for New Delhi, with scant attention to local interests.

Small is beautiful, Black argues, particularly with bringing electricity to the countryside. Small, interconnected power plants, powered by solar, hydro, or biomass, are far more likely to succeed, one solar expert tells him. Local planners would be less likely to build a dam on a fault line, and nearly any alternative would be cleaner than coal, which provides 55 percent of the nation’s energy supply.

This skates near the cliché that village wisdom always trumps the knowledge of guys in suits. It's true Prime Minister Manmohan Singh’s newly elected government could be doing plenty to encourage clean energy innovation. But with one of Singh's climate negotiators already saying India will oppose putting limits on its greenhouse gas emissions in Copenhagen this December, every bit of small-scale creativity helps.

Related Links:

The U.S.-India climate ‘partnership’

Water, conflict, and security on the banks of the Hudson

Salvadoran mudslides: A plea for climate change solutions and holistic water policy

Forty-five million people go hungry or undernourished because of droughts and disasters wrought by climate change, according to a recent report by the Global Humanitarian Forum. Climate change leads to 300,000 deaths a year, the organization concludes, a toll that will reach 500,000 by 2030. Many of those who starve will be children. Of course, those numbers don’t begin to convey the human suffering that lies behind them. And so on and so forth.

Also, your family’s ski vacations could be completely ruined by climate change. If your taste leans tropical, your favorite beachside resort—the one with the awesome mojitos and coconut shrimp—could also be imperiled by rising sea levels and fiercer storms caused by climate change.

So which is more likely to prompt you to do something? What’s going to prompt the average American, or the average citizen in the developed world, to demand action?

Ski resorts or starving third-world babies—it’s a blunt and maybe crude way to put the question, but there’s a fundamental tension between these poles for how we tell the story of climate change. Whether they make their decision consciously or not, anyone who must communicate about climate—activists, politicians, journalists, anyone directly affected—must choose whether to appeal to altruism or to self interest.

I’ve been thinking about this after spending last Thursday and Friday at the Three Degrees conference on human rights and climate change, hosted by the University of Washington School of Law. If there was a central message from the diverse group of scholars, humanitarian aid workers, scientists and lawyers who spoke there, it was that climate change needs to be framed as a human rights problem.  The climate crisis is too big, the argument goes, to be viewed as a “nature” problem typecast as something for scientists and treehuggers to worry about. And it’s too morally significant to be a mere political issue.

Three Degrees speakers were squarely in the appeal-to-altruism camp. A panel of aid workers spoke of how climate change functions as a “stress multiplier,” worsening almost every problem they deal with. It heightens food and water insecurity, creates refugees, ramps up the potential for violent conflict, exacerbates tropical diseases, and leads to more disasters that demand urgent responses.

There was a lot of talk about future generations, who will bear the cost of our ecological behavior. I briefly mentioned Carolyn Raffensperger’s work to create formal guardians for future generations in the legal system, but it’s a fascinating idea that deserves real attention. (See guardiansofthefuture.org for more.) Several speakers argued this expands the appeal of a human rights approach to climate, as those who have trouble relating to coastal Bangladeshis or Somalis are more motivated to help their own grandchildren.

But does this approach accomplish anything? We already understand third-world health as a moral issue, but that hasn’t stopped millions of people from dying of preventable diseases, John Knox, a senior advisor to the Center of International Environmental Law and a Wake Forest University law professor, pointed out.

“If we’re not getting worked up about that, why are we going to care about the grandchildren of those same people,” he said on a panel on Friday. He went on to clarify: “I believe moral arguments have some purchase, otherwise I wouldn’t be working in human rights.”

The conference didn’t include a lot of talk about the strategic implications of telling the climate story as a human rights story, so here’s a stab at some:

Somewhere there’s a high school debate student calling me out for pitching a false dichotomy. Fair enough. You don’t have to choose only appeals to altruism or only appeals to self interest. And “selfish” reasons aren’t all as trivial as vacations. The first ways most Americans feel the effects of climate change may well include rising grocery prices because of droughts, rising home insurance rates because of increasingly severe and unpredictable weather, and other genuine day-to-day living concerns.

Still, framing a climate plan as a provider of, say, “America’s Clean Energy and Security” makes one sort of appeal. As a body of relief workers, legal scholars, wonks, and activists argued last week, it’s not the only method available -- and it may not be enough to spur the world to action.

Related Links:

Ask Umbra on ditching dirty things

Ask Umbra on trash, toxics, and tots

Top 25 reasons to give a damn about climate change

America has lost its stature as a moral leader in today’s world. The global financial system continues to unravel with devastating consequences. The escalating threat of terrorism, driven by persistent inequity between the world’s rich and poor, seems immune to military solutions.  The global climate stands at the threshold of runaway changes.
        
What is needed is a one-stop solution that transcends traditional coalitions and national antagonisms and brings the nations of the world together in a common global project that addresses all three threats.

In short, what is needed is a coordinated global public-works program to rewire the world with clean energy.   
    
The most immediate benefit is that such an initiative would begin to restore America’s moral leadership in today’s fractured and combative world.  Every country is beginning to feel the impacts of our increasingly unstable climate -- and a profound sense of desperation over America’s eight-year refusal to address the threat.
    
On the economic front, the globally destabilizing credit crisis, the heart-stopping plunges of the stock market, the continuing agony of job losses, and the uncertainties surrounding the price of oil are triggering paralyzing fears of a prolonged global economic recession -- if not worse.  

The intractable economic gap between rich and poor nations is fuelling despair, malnutrition, disease, and an ominous intensification of anti-American resentment. As a result, terrorism has replaced the old Cold War as the primary threat to international stability.  

Both the financial crisis and the prospect of intensified terrorism pale before the irreversibly destructive potential of runaway climate change. Our physical environment is unraveling rapidly. As the climate continues to warm, deep oceans are heating, violent weather is increasing, the timing of the seasons is changing, and all over the world plants, insects, birds, fish, and other animals are migrating toward the poles in search of stable temperatures.   

A number of the world’s most prominent climate scientists recently declared we are approaching -- or have already passed -- a point of no return in staving off global climate chaos.  Scientists cite the rapid melting of the Arctic -- as well as the recent discovery of large deposits of methane bubbling up from the perforated ocean floor off the coast of Siberia -- as potential triggers for runaway changes.

This ominous confluence of global threats underscores the observation by the Brazilian diplomat Raoul Estrada that “we are all in the same boat -- and there’s no way half the boat is going to sink.”
    
President Obama’s proposed 10-year clean energy investment of about $150 billion in the U.S. would certainly boost domestic production of windmills and solar panels and help jumpstart the U.S. economy. But it would do nothing to address global economic inequity.  

Moreover, even if we in the U.S. were to dramatically cut our carbon emissions, those cuts would be overwhelmed by the coming pulse of carbon from India, China, Mexico, Nigeria, and all the developing countries which are struggling to feed and educate their people and can scarcely afford massive investments in clean energy.

On the financial front, today’s financial crisis requires the kind of public-works programs initiated in the 1930s by President Franklin Roosevelt to jump the economy out of its current state of exhaustion. Few economists believe the current capital crisis has run its course. But while FDR’s programs were national in scope, today’s globalized economy requires a global initiative to counteract a worldwide economic recession.

A global public-works program -- with something like $300 billion a year in predictable North-South capital flows -- would provide a much-needed ballast to counteract the wild market swings that have helped destabilize the global economy.

The relentless poverty that afflicts about two-thirds of the world’s people, moreover, requires that such projects provide tangible economic opportunities for the world’s poorest residents. Development economists tell us that every dollar invested in energy in poor countries creates far more jobs and far more wealth than the same dollar invested in any other segment of their economies.  A transition to clean energy would create millions of new jobs in the developing world.

By contrast, Sir Nicholas Stern, a former chief economist at the World Bank, recently revised upward his estimate of how much it would cost the world to keep ignoring climate change; initially he said 20 percent of global gross domestic product, but he now says up to 33 percent.  Explained Stern, "We underestimated the risks ... we underestimated the damage associated with temperature increases ... and we underestimated the probabilities of temperature increases."

Finally the threat of escalating climate change transcends national boundaries. Nations recognize sovereignty; nature does not. If there is any issue that contains the seeds for a permanent state of conflict -- over food shortages, water scarcity, and displaced populations -- it is global warming.

Last year, a National Intelligence Estimate echoed the earlier findings of a group of retired generals and admirals in identifying global climate change as the greatest long-term threat to our national security.

In December, U.N. Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon called for a global green New Deal. "The economic crisis is serious,” he said. “Yet when it comes to climate change, the stakes are far higher."

Here's the Plan

One potential solution to our increasingly impoverished, polarized, and warming world centers on a coordinated package of policy strategies to propel a rapid global energy transition.  This model is not the only way to accomplish the task. But, unlike most other approaches, it is appropriate to the scope and urgency of the challenge.  
    
The Clean Energy Transition plan includes three strategies:        

On the subsidy issue, the United States currently spends about $45 billion a year to subsidize carbon fuels. In the industrial countries overall, those subsidies have been estimated at about $250 billion a year.

The industrial nations should phase out subsidies for oil and coal and create equivalent subsidies for clean energy technologies.  (Clearly a small portion of the U.S. subsidies must be used to retrain or buy out the nation’s approximately 40,000 coal miners.)   But the lion's share of the subsidies would still be available to the major energy companies to retrain their workers and re-tool to become aggressive developers of wind farms, solar systems, and fuel cells.  

If the U.S. were to establish $45 billion in subsidies for clean energy, along with $200 billion in similar subsidies in the other industrial nations, that would mobilize an army of energy engineers and entrepreneurs -- with successively more efficient generations of solar film, turbines, and tidal devices -- in a burst of creativity that would rival the dot-com revolution of the 1990s.  

But even if the countries of the North were dramatically to reduce emissions, those cuts would be overwhelmed by the escalating carbon emissions from large developing countries. So a second element of the plan involves the creation of a fund of about $300 billion a year for about a decade to jumpstart renewable energy infrastructures in developing countries.  

That fund could be financed by any number of sources. An extremely promising mechanism involves a very small tax on international currency transactions, named after its developer, the late Nobel prize-winning economist James Tobin. (These transactions occur as a normal part of business as governments and companies exchange yen for dollars and dollars for euros.)  Today, the commerce in currency transactions exceeds $1.5 trillion a day. A tax of a quarter-penny on a dollar on those transactions would net out to about $300 billion a year, which could go toward wind farms in India, fuel-cell factories in Mexico, solar assemblies in El Salvador, and vast, solar-powered hydrogen farms in the Middle East.

In short, the proposal involves a small tax on global finance to preserve the global environment.

Since currency transactions are electronically tracked by the private banking system, the need for a large, cumbersome bureaucracy could be avoided by paying the banks a small fee to administer the fund.  That fee would offset their loss of income from the contraction in currency trading that would result from the tax.  The use of the banks to administer the fund would, moreover, discourage corruption. The plan would require banks to publicly post fully transparent reports on their verification of construction benchmarks to ensure that the funds went directly into clean energy projects.

Perhaps equally as important, the banks’ role in administering the fund could provide a social mission and a sense of purpose for an industry that sorely needs a new, moral facelift.

This arrangement would eliminate the need for a new cumbersome international agency.  The only new bureaucracy that would be required would be a small international auditing agency to oversee the banks’ administration of the fund, to provide equal access for all energy vendors, and to further minimize corruption in recipient countries.

If a currency transaction tax proves unacceptable, a carbon tax in industrial countries or a tax on international airline travel could fill the same function.

Regardless of its revenue source, the fund -- on the ground -- would be allocated according to a U.N. formula that specifies what percentage of each year’s fund would go to each developing country.

If India, for instance, were to receive $5 billion in the first year, it would then decide what mix of wind farms, village solar installations, fuel-cell generators, and biogas facilities it needed. The Indian government (in this hypothetical example) would then entertain bids for these facilities. As contractors reached specified benchmarks, they would be paid directly by the banks.

As self-replicating renewable infrastructures took root in developing countries, the fund could simply be phased out.  Alternatively, progressively larger amounts of the fund could be diverted to other global environment and development needs.
    
The third element of the plan -- which makes it all work -- calls on the parties to the successor to the Kyoto Protocol to subordinate the inequitable and ineffective mechanism of international carbon trading to a simple progressive Fossil Fuel Efficiency Standard which goes up by 5 percent per year.  This mechanism, if incorporated into the Protocol, would harmonize and guide a global energy transition in a way that emissions trading can not.  

Under this approach, every country would start at its current baseline to increase its fossil fuel energy efficiency by 5 percent every year until a global 70 percent reduction is attained. In other words, a country would produce the same amount of goods as the previous year with 5 percent less carbon fuel.  Alternatively, it would produce 5 percent more goods with the same carbon fuel use as the previous year.  

Since no economy grows at 5 percent for long, emissions reductions would outpace long-term economic growth.  

(In this context, domestic "cap-and-trade" schemes could be valuable tools to help countries initially meet their national goals. Al Gore’s plan to make the U.S. electrical grid 100 percent carbon free in 10 years, for one example, would fit comfortably into this framework.)  

For the first few years of the efficiency standard, most countries would likely meet their goals by implementing low-cost or even profitable efficiencies -- the “low-hanging fruit” -- in their current energy systems.  After a few years, however, as those efficiencies became more expensive to capture, countries would meet the progressively more stringent standard by drawing more and more energy from new, clean energy installations -- most of which are 100 percent efficient by a Fossil Fuel Standard.

That, in turn, would create the mass markets and economies of scale for renewables that would bring down their prices and make them economically competitive with coal and oil.

This mechanism would also be far easier to monitor than emissions trading, with its morass of legalistic and excruciatingly arcane loopholes. A nation's compliance would be measured simply by calculating the annual change in the ratio of its total carbon fuel use to its gross domestic product.  That ratio would have to change by 5 percent a year.  

A project of this scope would create millions of new jobs -- especially in in developing countries.  It would begin to turn impoverished and dependent countries into trading partners.  It would counteract the economic desperation that gives rise to so much anti-U.S. sentiment. It would jump the renewable energy industry into being a central, driving engine of growth of the global economy.  

One hopeful accident of timing is that the climate crisis does coincide with other trends. The economy is becoming truly globalized. The globalization of communications now makes it possible for anyone to communicate with anyone else anywhere else in the world.  And, since it is no respecter of national boundaries, the global climate is now impacting every corner of the world.

Ultimately, a global public-works program to rewire the world with clean energy has the potential to bring the people of the world together around a common global project to preserve both a robust global economy and, hopefully, a stable and secure human habitat.

Finally, given this extremely ominous moment in history, a project of this kind could -- most optimistically -- provide the foundation for a new, more cooperative and proactive kind of peace: peace among people, and peace between people and nature.

Related Links:

Top 25 reasons to give a damn about climate change

Cash for Clunkers brought us ... more clunkers!

A $4 billion push to make affordable housing green

Q. Dear Umbra,

You once replied to a request for some simple things all environmentally concerned individuals should do by pointing them toward some "Top Ten lists" for eco-minded people. Without a doubt, hands down, the number 1 action that should be followed for anyone concerned with the environment is to limit your procreation to 1 child per individual (2 per couple), i.e., replace yourself only. This dwarfs anything you might do in other areas, like using compact fluorescents or choosing paper over plastic, or weatherizing your home.

Stan B.
Williamsburg, Mich.

A. Dearest Stan,

The ten-foot pole gives reproduction another poke. In '03 and '05, the Royal We tickled all our reproductive clocks with brief reminders to consider childbearing and childrearing as ecologically significant acts. Since then I have followed my own advice and borne seven children, all of whom have grown up to work for Environmental Defense.

The right to bear arms ... and legs.iStock

As you know, this is a hot topic, and there's a reason I poke at it only occasionally. I'm almost hesitant to do so now, but I feel strongly about one aspect, so here goes.

Environmentalists tend toward believing that our goal is preservation of the environment as it currently exists, with extra credit if we improve anything already destroyed by humans. Humans are the problem in this picture, and hence new humans are seen by some as an additional difficulty. The connection between population pressures and environmental degradation are logical and documented. People use natural resources to live, which is in part why we have deforestation, extinction, soil depletion, water supply problems, and excess greenhouse gases. High population growth is environmentally significant in areas with poor resource management, poor government, and poverty; it is also significant in areas with excess wealth and high resource consumption.

I'm not going to say too much about our personal reproduction today. Instead, I want to talk about a crucial role environmentalists should play in our local, national, and global communities.

It is very important for us to advocate for accessible family planning programs, for decent education for girls and women, and for women's rights. We have all heard about the cause and effect of equal status for women. Women bear fewer children when we have access to affordable contraception and understand how to use it. We delay childbearing when we receive decent education, and are also better able to care for the children we do have. When we have better if not equal social status and rights, childbearing can be a choice.

Environmentalists need to advocate for girls and women at all levels. In our home communities, we need to be sure that girls are receiving equal opportunities, all youth are receiving substantial reproductive education, and teenagers are engaged in interesting projects rather than marking time with sex and drugs. Nationally and internationally, we need to actively advocate for family planning funding, the eradication of bogus abstinence-only programming, and policies that enrich the lives of women of all ages.

Social justice is inextricably linked with the natural environment. Choosing to limit the amount of children we have needs to be a realistic option for women worldwide.

Adieu, ten-foot pole!

Javelinly,
Umbra

Related Links:

Ask Umbra on ditching dirty things

Ask Umbra’s video advice on composting

Turn your turkey carcass into a spectacular gumbo

ISTANBUL -- Fresh water and money have one thing in common: Their mismanagement has left billions of people without ready access to either, according to policymakers, non-governmental agencies and activists attending the World Water Forum here this week.

AquaFed's Gerard Payen (Courtesy U.N.)

It was one of the few things all parties seem to agree on; who is responsible for that mismanagement and what should be done about it is where the attendees part ways.

A United Nations report, Water in a Changing World, released here today, spreads the blame around, chiding "water sector leaders," including government ministers, private businesses and civil society groups, for failing to take action.

"Management of the world's water resources requires reliable information about the state of the resource and how it is changing in response to external drivers such as climate change and water and land use," the report states. "There is little sharing of hydrologic data, due largely to limited physical access to data, policy and security issues; lack of agreed protocols for sharing; and commercial considerations. This hampers regional and global projects that have to build on shared datasets for scientific and applications-oriented purposes."

The result for the world's freshwater supply is "bleak," the report concludes.

In Africa, poverty reduction efforts are rarely coordinated with water policy or take into account wise management of water resources, says the UN report, despite findings of a strong correlation between investment in water infrastructure and economic growth. In many developing countries, public utilities do not do well because of low motivation, poor management, inadequate cost recovery and political interference," states the report.

Gérard Payen, president of AquaFed, an international federation of private water companies, and an adviser on water issues to the U.N Secretary General, shifts much of the blame on governments. "There is plenty of water on the planet," says Payen. "Where increasing uses or climate change create scarcity, strong political will and commitment are needed to allocate and manage water satisfactorily."

Three billion people -- nearly one-half of the world's population -- have no access to tap water in their home or in their village. That means they must carry water every day or pay high prices for delivery. One of the reasons for that, says Payen, is governments' poor allocation of water between agriculture, industry and domestic uses.

The Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD), a Paris-based group of 30 relatively prosperous nations, has taken a similar line, saying that integrated water-resources management is needed to better allocate water between agriculture, other uses and environmental needs.

Maude Barlow, Council of Canadians national chairperson and senior adviser on water to the president of the U.N. General Assembly, agrees that mismanagement is to blame. But Barlow, who led activists here protesting the commoditization of water, blames private businesses and governments.

Water management has also been given short shrift by economic stimulus packages launched by the United States, China and Korea and other countries, says Angel Gurría, secretary general of the OECD. "The green is being stressed but not the blue," he says. "Particularly for water-saving, shovel-ready projects" to repair aged and damaged water pipelines. The United Nations says the total cost of replacing aging water supply and sanitation infrastructure in industrial countries could be as high as $200 billion per year.

Up to 20 percent of water in the developed world is lost due to leakage; in the developing world, it is as high as 70 percent, he says.

Likewise, Jamal Saghir, director of energy, transport and water at the World Bank, says there are insignificant funds earmarked for water investment in the stimulus packages of the United States and other countries responding to the economic crisis.

The World Water Forum concludes on Sunday.

Ferguson is a freelance journalist based in Arlington, Mass.

Related Links:

Ask Umbra on ditching dirty things

Water, conflict, and security on the banks of the Hudson

Salvadoran mudslides: A plea for climate change solutions and holistic water policy

Related Links:

On “climategate”

Climate Denial Crock of the Week: The big mist take

What Do Coal and Dirty Dorm Rooms Have in Common?

The sun sets on our poverty series.

Photo: Clipart.

There's something a little odd about ending a series on the subject of poverty -- as we at Grist are officially doing today -- when the issue itself will stubbornly continue to exist.

That might seem, at first, like a laughable sentence. Of course poverty will persist -- when hasn't it? -- and of course our series must end. (Not so coverage of the issues, though. Publishing Poverty & the Environment was as much an act of masonry as of journalism, and we hope we have built a strong foundation for ongoing coverage in the future.)

But I'm going to suggest that this shouldn't be an absurd sentiment -- that the goal of our journalism should be to end economic and environmental injustices. As Marcus Keyes said in our article on poultry farming, these are not "just" environmental issues or human-rights issues. They are also moral issues -- moral outrages -- and to take their existence for granted is to neglect a code of honor that should be common to humanity.

And yet, we as a society have largely stopped believing that we can end vast systemic injustices, such as the cruelly disproportionate environmental burdens borne by the poor. (Or such as homelessness, or AIDS, or any other pervasive social ailment.) That failure of conviction inevitably leads to a failure of action -- or, at best, to band-aid solutions and stop-gap substitutes. But these issues do not call for half measures; they call on us to create a vision of how, in five or 15 or 50 years, our problems will be lesser and our society greater.

How does that kind of change happen? It happens both externally and internally -- that is, from interacting with others who cause us to experience (in a phrase I love best at its most literal) a change of heart. It happens individually and collectively. It happens slowly -- "the arc of history is long," noted Martin Luther King Jr. -- and then, sometimes, abruptly -- "but it bends toward justice," he concluded. In other words, as much as politics is public and pragmatic, it is also personal and alchemical; your turning point will depend equally on turns of fate and your turn of mind.

I'm a writer and editor, and as such my truck is with words, so I am compelled to point out that this relationship to politics is not unlike the one we have to reading. The words that move me might not be the words that move you, but for each of us there will be some phrase or fragment that reaches out across the gap: from external to internal, collective to individual, stuck to struck; from our own familiar issues to the needs and fates of others.

In putting together this series, as in all our work, we at Grist sought what moved us -- emotionally, politically -- and what we thought might move our readers. (To say nothing of our website traffic.) In that spirit, I'd like to mark the series' end by offering up some of my own favorite moments from it: the words and thoughts and facts that clicked inside my own admittedly idiosyncratic head. I encourage all of you to follow suit by posting your own favorite fragments. And I thank all of you for partaking: the word means (here's the editor in me again) to be involved, but also -- crucially -- to take one another's part.

Related Links:

Chuck Norris on Copenhagen

Lawsuit accuses Virginia power company of poisoning Dominican community with toxic coal ash

Climate Citizen: Majora Carter

The tiny community of Pacoima, at the north end of Los Angeles, suffers from nearly every imaginable obstacle to a healthy urban environment. That means, for starters, lead paint, freeway traffic, airports, landfills, diesel trucks, chemical manufacturing, power plants, heavy industry, and overcrowding. It also means the linguistic and cultural differences that have historically defined the largely Latino community -- and separated it from potential allies.

These days, that gulf is narrowing. Through the efforts of Pacoima Beautiful, a nonprofit organization of Pacoima residents and their allies, the three-square-mile community is working with elected officials to clean up its environment. At the same time, the group is empowering Pacoima residents to organize internally, pairing former gang members with artists to paint murals, and training community mothers to educate fellow citizens and area doctors about the health hazards of pollution.

In this virtual walking tour, Marlene Grossman, above, and two other leaders of Pacoima Beautiful show that this once-beleaguered neighborhood is truly becoming beautiful -- both as a place to live, and as a model of effective community organizing.

Related Links:

Ask Umbra on ditching dirty things

Chuck Norris on Copenhagen

Is there a tradeoff between economics and the environment?

Eric Mann.

When Eric Mann first encountered environmentalists, he saw them as a bunch of "arrogant, racist airheads." When Frances Beinecke first encountered environmentalists, she felt she'd found her cause.

Frances Beinecke.

Nearly four decades later, both are tireless proponents of environmental sanity, but they work in very different ways. Mann is director of the Los Angeles-based Labor/Community Strategy Center, where he fights for environmental justice, immigrant and labor rights, and economic equity. Beinecke is president of Natural Resources Defense Council, one of the nation's biggest and best-known environmental organizations.

As part of our Poverty & the Environment series, Grist invited the two to discuss the relationship between the mainstream environmental movement and the environmental-justice movement in the past, present, and -- most important -- the future.

Grist: Let's get the ball rolling by establishing how each of you came to be doing the work you do today.

Beinecke: When I was in college, I knew I wanted to engage in social-justice issues, but didn't know what. The first environmental job I had was working for the city health department, testing kids for lead poisoning through a college internship. About that same time, Earth Day came along and I saw the environmental cause as one that was exceedingly timely and new and energizing. So I got in on the ground floor -- which I guess ages me somewhat -- [and] I've been involved ever since.

Mann: Almost everything in my life is framed by the black movement and the war in Vietnam, so I begin with a very radical critique of the United States. In 1964, I was working for the Congress of Racial Equality. I then went to work for General Motors, to organize autoworkers. I saw the environmental movement as a bunch of white, privileged kids who were telling us what was wrong with the automobile and I was saying to them, "Hey look, we're not building the B-1 bomber. You know, people gotta have a job."

Mann rallying a crowd.

I was approached by Tony Mazzocchi who had been with the Oil, Chemical, and Atomic Workers and he said, "Eric, these kids may be arrogant. They may be racist. They may be airheads. But they're right. You've got to take a look at the internal combustion engine." And then, smart organizer that he was, he said, "I thought you were radical. The most radical thing is telling General Motors what they have to produce."

And I'm a good convert. If you convince me, I organize other people.

Beinecke: I would agree that in order to really address environmental issues, you need a very, very broad movement, a movement that goes well beyond the environmental community as it is today. The environmental community is robust; it's made up of as many as 10 million people [in the U.S.]. But 10 million people isn't enough if you're really trying to change society. I'm sure I'm not as radical as you are, but I would argue that I'm just as determined that we need a broad force to really [get] the attention of our leaders and of the people in the country.

Mann: Frances, here's an example of where we don't have a unified environmental movement. In Los Angeles, the [Metropolitan Transportation Authority] is building these incredibly expensive rail lines to almost nowhere, with very, very low ridership, when we have the chance to have bus-only lanes, to have a fleet of clean-fuel CNG [compressed natural gas] buses. We want buses on the freeway, we want auto-free zones to stop the use of the internal combustion engine in large parts of Los Angeles.

Now, we get along very well with NRDC in L.A. This is not in any way a hostile relationship -- in fact, it's a very constructive one. Still, month after month, the lowest-income bus riders go to the MTA and are totally abused and insulted by Democratic Party liberals. And we cannot get white middle-class people to fight for this. It's been 10 years of active outreach to people who are allegedly environmentalists, and they do not rally around low-income, people-of-color environmental issues. We are good organizers. We did not write them off. We've made endless appeals. It's just not happening.

Beinecke: It sounds like a hugely challenging issue. Fundamentally, in all movements, organizations have their main focus and then they have areas where they work with partners. Here at NRDC, we have a much broader view of partnership than we've had in the past, and we're looking for opportunities to develop that in a way that listens to community concerns and is respectful. It's a learning experience to try to figure out the best way for an organization like NRDC -- which is perceived as a big, national, white, wealthy organization, and you know in many respects that's a correct characterization -- [to] develop a relationship of trusted partnership. I'm sure that we have a long way to go, but it's something we're deeply interested in doing.

Mann: NRDC is perceived as a wealthy, predominantly white organization -- but that's not the critique. That's what it is. In 1991, at the People of Color Summit, part of the dynamic was, you could say, jacking up the mainstream environmental movement. And it deserved it, and some people responded better than others to that critique. But in 2006, I'm not trying to replicate that phenomenon. This is a more subtle conversation. NRDC has been a friend, NRDC buys an ad in our annual book, we go to their events. This is not a story of not getting along; that is the progress that has been made. The more fundamental question is why the white middle class does not give a damn about the black poor and does not care about Latinos, even when the issues [are] right up their ideological alley.

Beinecke: I don't know how to answer that question. I think people generally speaking do [care], but environmental issues are conveyed very much in terms of natural-resource issues. To separate the natural environment from the human environment results in a train wreck, because they're so interconnected. That's something that we have to convey much more powerfully than we have in the past.

Mann: Well, let me go a different way, because of course we both agree on that. The question is trying to figure out where we're not [agreeing], right?

Beinecke: Yeah.

Mann: So let me just raise a couple of things. I think the work has to be independent of and hostile to the Democratic Party. We're right now in the face of a right-wing, evangelical, neo-fascist movement in this country that is frightening the hell out of me, and I'm a pretty good fighter. That counter-revolution is being led by the Republicans, with the criminal conciliation of the Democratic Party. John Kerry goes on the radio with Larry Kudlow, who's a right-wing TV reporter, and he says to Kerry, "Are you for free markets, John? Or are you for that socialistic control of corporate life that's gonna squeeze profits and drive away people's jobs?" "Oh, I'm very pro-business." Larry Kudlow has got him groveling. It's like he cannot push back and say, "Hey Larry, we believe in regulating the corporation, we think free markets lead to poverty, racism, and environmental degradation."

Can we get a Democrat to say that? No. So the environmental movement is going to have to say it. But that's not the discourse that I've heard. So that's one of the problems.

Beinecke: I have absolutely no dispute that we're sorely lacking in leadership. Both parties and particularly the Democrats have an opportunity to use the environment as an issue and haven't used it. I think that change is not going to come from the federal government, it's going to come from local leaders. At the local level, people are getting the issues out there in a way that people perceive that there are solutions. Over 200 mayors have signed on to curb global warming in their cities when you could barely get it on the congressional agenda. It's important for us to be working in those places where change is possible.

Mann: But what I'm asking you is, do you have a theory of counter-hegemonic organizing? If NRDC issued a vote of no confidence in a group of legislators, both Republican and Democrat, for jeopardizing the public health and capitulating to corporations -- which is different from what the Bus Riders would do, it would come [from] within your own culture -- people would say uh-oh, NRDC is escalating the struggle in a way we've never seen before.

That would be a real contribution to the movement, and I don't see it happening yet. And as an organizer, Frances, I'm trying to organize you to do it, because we need you to do more. You have the resources. I hope you know this is not an effort to jack you up. This is an effort to say, "Look, you're an important piece of the puzzle." Because in some way you are a public trust, right? You are an organization that has that level of public recognition, and people should be able to hold you accountable in a constructive way and urge you to do more.

Beinecke: I welcome the urge to do more. We have spent five years working as hard as we can to try to hold the line with the Bush administration's rollback of environmental laws. And I think we've provided a huge service by doing that, but the period of defensiveness is over. So I welcome encouragement to be out there in a more aggressive way than we've been. We may disagree on exactly how that unfolds, but I think we will agree on the need to be a very powerful voice on these issues.

Mann: The second thing I want you to think about is a constructive proposal that came out of a criticism. I was at a meeting [last week] in Sacramento with about 25 environmental-justice leadership groups [and] maybe six liberal environmental -- in a good sense -- legislators. And what they said is, "When certain groups" -- such as yours, Frances -- "come to us to make proposals on a bill, in the past we thought they spoke for a broader environmental movement. What we realize now is they speak for part of the environmental movement, but in fact there are significant disagreements."

So they proposed two things: One, for the EJ groups to please show up in Sacramento more. But two, could we and the so-called mainstream groups get our act together, work out some of these differences, and come back with a united front for the legislators of both parties? I thought that was a really good suggestion, and I'm offering it to you as another constructive thing we could do.

Beinecke: I think we should be doing that, and I'm surprised that we're not. We will definitely be a stronger force if we can agree ahead of time on the agenda. But you know, Eric, there's something I want to ask you.

Mann: Sure, sure, please.

Beinecke: You were saying earlier that you came out of the civil-rights movement. And I got in, as I mentioned, through Earth Day. That was a period of time where people marched. People spoke out. They thought their voice made a difference and could affect decision-makers -- and did, in fact, because both the civil-rights movement and Earth Day had enormous impacts from a public-policy standpoint.

The issues that we're facing today are equally great. And yet, we're not marching. We're not marching on Iraq, we're not marching on the environment, we're not marching on social-justice issues. Do you see that emerging again, or how do you see movement-building going into the future?

Mann: I completely agree with you that movement-building is the essential task facing all of us. The Strategy Center has a national school for strategic organizing, and we do go out into the street and do hand-to-hand ideological combat with the right. What I'm convinced about is the environment must be a cause -- not an issue, a cause. It has to have a strong moral, transformative nature to it.

Barbara Lott-Holland, a black woman, is going on the bus telling black people that they should not buy cars because small island states are being overwhelmed by global warming. Barbara is up on the bus saying to people, "Black people gotta give up their cars." They say, "Give up my car? I don't got a car! It's the white man who's got a car! How come the white man gets everything and now, just when I'm about to buy a car, you're telling me global warming? Who the hell cares?"

And Barbara's saying, "Well, the reality is, we have always been the moral conscience of this country."

My point is that we're training people to do what we call transformative organizing, to have ethical and moral conversations with people. The thing that's missing today is training centers for organizers. We're trying to get to the point where we can train 100 organizers a year instead of about 10. I think the movement needs to figure out how we're going to train a couple of thousand organizers a year. The Heritage Foundation now takes 64 summer interns a year.

Beinecke: I saw that.

Mann: And we take eight.

Beinecke: Right.

Mann: We could use your support to say, "Hey folks, we need to develop a cadre of environmental and environmental-justice and anti-racist organizers," because taking it to the street is not primarily marching. Taking it to the street is primarily about addressing churches and addressing union halls and [getting] involved in the politics of transformational ideological conversion.

Beinecke: Yeah. Well, the thing about a march is that it sends a message much more broadly.

Mann: Oh, I agree.

Beinecke: What I'm saying is, the march needs to be a vehicle of the 21st century, of an outpouring of urgency that isn't there. Intellectually, people get the urgency, but from a communication and action standpoint, I don't feel it permeating as broadly as it could. If we could come together not only in organizing but in amplification to make these issues more broadly understood, it would be a great thing.

Grist: This is one role the media can play -- and when the mainstream media doesn't, that's when more progressive and independent media ventures [like, eh-hem, Grist] have to jump in and fill the gap.

Mann: Right. I want to thank Grist for doing this, because I think this was a really good conversation between allies. I hope that's clear from the beginning to the end. We began by saying that when you got involved, Earth Day was part of Anti-War Day was part of Civil Rights Day, right?

Beinecke: Mm hmm.

Mann: I mean, you didn't join Earth Day; you were doing stuff on civil rights, and I'm assuming you were also doing anti-war work.

Beinecke: It was a continuum.

Mann: Exactly. And I think our goal is to rebuild that continuum.

Beinecke: I agree with that. We have a nation of great breadth, and to be successful as a movement we have to have connections with a broader array of communities. So it's been a privilege to hear your perspective on this, and I am going to come find you when I'm in L.A.

Mann: Let's make that happen.

Beinecke: I pledge it.

Related Links:

Chuck Norris on Copenhagen

Lawsuit accuses Virginia power company of poisoning Dominican community with toxic coal ash

Climate Citizen: Majora Carter

This article was originally published in OrionOnline.

Precarious dwellings in North Sulawasi, Indonesia.

Photos: iStockphoto.

A villa miseria outside Buenos Aires, Argentina, may have the worst feng shui in the world: it is built in a flood zone over a former lake, a toxic dump, and a cemetery. Then there's the barrio perched precariously on stilts over the excrement-clogged Pasig River in Manila, Philippines, and the bustee in Vijayawada, India, that floods so regularly that residents have door numbers written on pieces of furniture. In slums the world over, squatters trade safety and health for a few square meters of land. They are pioneers of swamps, floodplains, volcano slopes, unstable hillsides, desert fringes, railroad sidings, rubbish mountains, and chemical dumps -- unattractive and dangerous sites that have become poverty's niche in the ecology of the city.

Cities have absorbed nearly two-thirds of the global population explosion since 1950, and are currently adding a million babies and migrants each week. Dhaka, Bangladesh; Lagos, Nigeria; and Kinshasa, in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, today are each approximately 40 times larger than they were in 1950. According to the Financial Times, China in the 1980s alone added more city dwellers than did all of Europe (including Russia) during the entire 19th century.

In this process of rampant urbanization, the planet has become marked by the runaway growth of slums, characterized by overcrowding, poor or informal housing, inadequate access to safe water and sanitation, and insecurity of tenure. U.N. researchers estimate that there were at least 921 million slum dwellers in 2001 and more than 1 billion in 2005, with slum populations growing by a staggering 25 million per year.

Today, new arrivals to the urban margin confront a condition that can only be described as marginality within marginality, or, in the more piquant phrase of a desperate Baghdad slum dweller quoted by The New York Times, a "semi-death." An International Labor Organization researcher has estimated that the formal housing markets in the Third World rarely supply more than 20 percent of new housing stock; out of necessity, people turn to self-built shanties, informal rentals, pirate subdivisions, or the sidewalks. These are moves of sheer survival. And because the geographic location of slums is becoming more and more marginal, the destructive power of natural elements leaves today's slum residents in an ever more vulnerable state.

Tin shacks on the outskirts of Johannesburg.

Slums begin with bad geology. The shantytown periphery of Johannesburg, South Africa, for example, conforms unerringly to a belt of dangerous, unstable dolomitic soil contaminated by generations of mining. At least half of the region's nonwhite population lives in informal settlements in areas of toxic waste and chronic ground collapse. Likewise, the highly weathered lateritic soils underlying hillside favelas in Belo Horizonte and other Brazilian cities are catastrophically prone to slope failure and landslides. Rio de Janeiro's more famous favelas are built on equally unstable soils atop denuded granite domes and hillsides that frequently give way -- with deadly results.

Caracas, Venezuela, however, with a population of 5.2 million in 2005, is the soil geologist's "perfect storm": slums housing almost two-thirds of the city's population are built on unstable hillsides and in deep gorges surrounding the seismically active Caracas Valley. At one time vegetation held the friable schist in place, but brush clearing and cut-and-fill construction have destabilized the densely inhabited hills and precipitated a radical increase in major landslides and slope failures -- from less than one per decade before 1950 to the current average of two or more per month.

In mid-December 1999, an extraordinary storm clobbered northern Venezuela. A year's worth of rain fell in a few days upon already saturated soil; indeed, rainfall in some areas was reckoned to be a once-in-a-millennium event. The result was flash floods and debris flows in Caracas -- and along the Caribbean coast on the other side of the Avila Mountains, where an onrush of 1.8 million tons of debris left the coastal resort of Caraballeda devastated. The storm killed an estimated 32,000 people and left 140,000 homeless and another 200,000 jobless.

What the Caracas region is to landslides, metropolitan Manila is to frequent flooding. In July 2000 a typhoon deluge caused the collapse of a notorious "garbage mountain" in Quezon City's Payatas slum, burying 500 shacks and killing at least a thousand people.

Earthquakes make even more precise audits of the urban housing crisis; seismic hazard is the fine print in the devil's bargain of "informal" housing marked by poor construction. Seismic destruction usually maps poor-quality brick, mud, or concrete residential housing with uncanny accuracy.

But the urban poor do not lose much sleep at night worrying about earthquakes or even floods. Their chief anxiety is a more frequent and omnipresent threat: fire. Slums, not Mediterranean brush or Australian eucalyptuses, are the world's premier fire ecology. Their mixture of flammable dwellings, extraordinary density, and dependence upon open fires for heat and cooking is a superlative recipe for spontaneous combustion. A simple accident with cooking gas or kerosene can quickly become a megafire that destroys hundreds or even thousands of dwellings. Fire spreads through shanties at stunning velocity, and fire-fighting vehicles, if they respond at all, are often unable to negotiate narrow slum lanes.

To make matters worse, slum fires are often anything but accidents. Rather than bear the expense of court procedures or endure the wait for an official demolition order, landlords and developers frequently prefer the simplicity of arson. Manila has a particularly notorious reputation for suspicious slum fires, especially in areas targeted for industrial development. Urban sociologist Erhard Berner describes a favorite method of Filipino landlords: to chase a "kerosene-drenched burning live rat or cat -- dogs die too fast -- into an annoying settlement ... The unlucky animal can set plenty of shanties aflame before it dies."

All the classical principles of urban planning, including the preservation of open space and the separation of noxious land uses from residences, are stood on their heads in poor cities. Almost every large Third World city with some industrial base has a Dantean district shrouded in pollution and located next to pipelines, chemical plants, and refineries: Mexico City's Iztapalapa, São Paulo's Cubatão, Rio's Belford Roxo, Jakarta's Cibubur, Tunis's southern fringe, southwestern Alexandria, and so on. The world usually pays attention to such fatal admixtures of poverty and toxic industry only when they explode with mass casualties, as happened at Bhopal, India, in 1984, when an accident at a Union Carbide chemical plant killed 20,000 people.

Urban theorists have long recognized that the environmental efficiency and public affluence of cities require the preservation of ecosystems, open spaces, and natural services: cities need them to recycle urban waste products into usable inputs for farming, gardening, and energy production. And along with intact wetlands and agriculture, sustainable urbanism presupposes a basic level of safety -- of meteorological, hydrological, and geological stability, and protection against disasters like floods or fire. None of those conditions can hold in most Third World cities. Suffering under a series of crushing pressures, most recently a quarter-century-old regime of Draconian international economic policies, cities are systematically polluting, urbanizing, and destroying their crucial environmental support systems.

Wealthy cities in vulnerable sites such as Los Angeles or Tokyo can reduce geological or meteorological risk through massive engineering projects. And national flood insurance programs, together with fire and earthquake insurance, can guarantee residential repair and rebuilding in the event of extensive damage. In the Third World, by contrast, slums that lack potable water and latrines are unlikely to be defended by expensive public works or covered by disaster insurance.

Researchers writing in the journal Cities point out that foreign debt makes such infrastructure investment ever more unlikely. "Structural adjustment" -- the protocols by which indebted countries surrender their economic independence to the World Bank and International Monetary Fund -- drives sinister trade-offs that favor export-oriented production, competition, and efficiency at the expense of disaster-vulnerable settlements.

Feeling the squeeze, in more ways than one.

The global forces pushing people from the countryside seem to sustain urbanization even when the pull of the city is drastically weakened by debt and economic depression. As Deborah Bryceson emphasizes in her summary of recent agrarian research, the IMF and World Bank policies of the 1980s and 1990s caused unprecedented upheaval in the global countryside. One by one, she writes, national governments gripped in debt lost access to agricultural subsidies and support for rural infrastructure. Latin American and African nations abandoned peasant "modernization" efforts and deregulated national markets, subjecting peasant farmers to the "sink-or-swim" economic strategy of international financial institutions. Pushed into global commodity markets, agricultural producers found it hard to compete.

These anti-peasant policies had the same results throughout much of the developing world. As local safety nets disappeared, poor farmers became increasingly vulnerable to any exogenous shock: drought, inflation, rising interest rates, or falling commodity prices. (Or illness: an estimated 60 percent of Cambodian peasants who sell their land and move to the city are forced to do so by medical debts.) Meanwhile, rapacious warlords and chronic civil wars, often spurred by the economic dislocations of debt-imposed structural adjustment or foreign economic predators (as in the Congo and Angola), were uprooting whole countrysides.

Cities -- in spite of their stagnant or negative economic growth -- have simply harvested this world agrarian crisis. Peasants had no choice but to become urban.

The fallout has been predictable: hundreds of millions of new urbanites must further subdivide the peripheral economic niches of personal service, casual labor, street-vending, ragpicking, begging, and crime. With its high-tech border enforcement blocking large-scale migration to the rich countries, the new world order has dictated a formula for the mass production of slums, and for rising suffering from flood, slides, quakes, and fire.

But of all the dangerous ecological symptoms of runaway urban poverty, none poses a bigger threat than overflowing waste. The chronic shortfalls between the rates of trash generation and disposal in Third World cities are often staggering: the average collection rate in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, is barely 25 percent; in Karachi, Pakistan, 40 percent; and in Jakarta, Indonesia, 60 percent. The city planning director in Kabul, Afghanistan, complained to The Washington Post that his city is becoming "one big reservoir of solid waste ... Every 24 hours, 2 million people produce 800 cubic meters of solid waste. If all 40 of our trucks make three trips a day, they can still transport only 200 to 300 cubic meters out of the city."

Outside Hanoi, Vietnam, where farmers and fishers are constantly uprooted by urban development, urban and industrial effluents are now routinely employed as free substitutes for artificial fertilizers. When researchers writing for the journal Environment and Urbanization questioned this noxious practice, they discovered cynicism among vegetable and fish producers about the "rich people" in cities. "They don't care about us and fool us with useless compensation [for farm land]," as one purveyor put it, "so why not take some form of revenge?"

The subject of human waste is, of course, indelicate; but it is a fundamental problem of city life from which there is surprisingly little escape. Lovly Josaphat, a resident of Cité Soleil, the largest slum in Haiti's capital Port-au-Prince, told author Beverly Bell, "I've suffered a lot. When it rains, the part of the Cité I live in floods and the water comes in the house. There's always water on the ground, green smelly water, and there are no paths. The mosquitoes bite us. My four-year-old has bronchitis, malaria, and even typhoid now ... The doctor said to give him boiled water, not to give him food with grease, and not to let him walk in the water. But the water's everywhere; he can't set foot outside the house without walking in it. The doctor said that if I don't take care of him, I'll lose him."

Green, smelly water everywhere. "Every day, around the world," according to public-health expert Eileen Stillwaggon, "illnesses related to water supply, waste disposal, and garbage kill 30,000 people and constitute 75 percent of the illnesses that afflict humanity." Indeed, digestive-tract diseases arising from poor sanitation and the pollution of drinking water are the leading cause of death in the world, affecting mainly infants and small children. Open sewers and contaminated water are likewise rife with intestinal parasites such as whipworm, roundworm, and hookworm that infect tens of millions of children in poor cities. Cholera, the scourge of the Victorian city, continues to thrive off the fecal contamination of urban water supplies, especially in African cities like Antananarivo, Madagascar; Maputo, Mozambique; and Lusaka, Zambia, where UNICEF estimates that up to 80 percent of deaths from preventable diseases (apart from HIV/AIDS) arise from poor sanitation.

"At any one time," adds a 1996 report by the World Health Organization, "close to half of the South's urban population is suffering from one or more of the main diseases associated with inadequate provision for water and sanitation." Although clean water is the cheapest and single most important medicine in the world, public provision of water remains widely inadequate, and often competes with powerful private interests. In Dhaka, vendors mark up the cost of water -- often from municipal sources -- by 500 percent; in Faisalabad, Pakistan, 6,800 percent. Unable or unwilling to pay the extortionate price of water from vendors, some Nairobi, Kenya, residents resort to desperate expedients, including, two local researchers write, "the use of sewerage water, skipping bathing and washing, using borehole water and rainwater, and drawing water from broken pipes."

While the restructuring of Third World urban economies has contributed to dangerous health conditions, it has also gutted the response to those conditions. Since the late 1970s, international economic policy has devastated the public provision of health care, particularly for women and children. As the Women's Global Network for Reproductive Rights points out, structural adjustment programs "usually require public spending, including health spending (but not military spending), to be cut." In Latin America and the Caribbean, according to a World Bank researcher, the enforced austerity during the 1980s reduced public investment in sanitation and potable water, thus eliminating the infant survival advantage previously enjoyed by poor urban residents. In Mexico, following the adoption of a second adjustment program in 1986, the percentage of births attended by medical personnel fell from 94 percent in 1983 to 45 percent in 1988, while maternal mortality soared from 82 per 100,000 in 1980 to 150 in 1988.

In Ghana, "adjustment" not only led to an 80 percent decrease in spending on health and education between 1975 and 1983, it also caused the exodus of half of the nation's doctors. Similarly, in the Philippines in the early 1980s, per-capita health expenditures fell by half. In oil-rich but thoroughly "adjusted" Nigeria, a fifth of the country's children now die before age five. Economist Michel Chossudovsky blames the notorious outbreak of bubonic plague in Surat, India, in 1994 upon "a worsening urban sanitation and public-health infrastructure which accompanied the compression of national and municipal budgets under the 1991 IMF/World Bank-sponsored structural-adjustment program."

The examples can easily be multiplied: everywhere, obedience to international creditors, whose policies helped create slums in the first place, has dictated cutbacks in medical care and precipitated the emigration of doctors and nurses, the end of food subsidies, and the switch of agricultural production from subsistence to export crops.

More recently the World Bank has relentlessly pressured aid recipients to open themselves to global competition from private First World health-care providers and pharmaceutical companies. The bank's 1993 "Investing in Health" report outlined the new paradigm of market-based health care, as described by Fantu Cheru, a leading U.N. expert on debt: "limited public expenditure on a narrowly defined package of services; user fees for public services; and privatized health care and financing." A sterling instance of the new approach was Zimbabwe, where the introduction of user fees in the early 1990s led to a doubling of infant mortality. As Cheru emphasizes, the coerced tribute that the Third World pays to the First World has meant the literal difference between life and death for millions of poor people.

But if ecological reality prevails, it won't stop there. Today's mega-slums are unprecedented incubators of new and re-emergent diseases that can travel across the world at the speed of a passenger jet. And, as the imminent peril of avian influenza indicates, economic globalization without concomitant investment in a global public-health infrastructure is a formula for catastrophe. It takes only a little imagination -- the thought of a series of ill-fated airplane trips -- to remind us that we're all living on the same planet of slums, under the same economic regime.

The conditions creating the slums -- greed, inequity, poor planning, and disrespect for human rights -- are human forces, but they tend to intensify the earth's natural forces. Those forces, ecological and biological, don't always behave as predictably as we would like, or stay within their bounds.

To read an extended version of this article, request a free trial issue of Orion Magazine.

Related Links:

Ask Umbra on ditching dirty things

Chuck Norris on Copenhagen

Ask Umbra’s video advice on composting

Atlanta, Ga.: the famous "Hot-lanta" of Southern heat and hospitality, home of "down-home" fried chicken and a growing black middle class, cradle of the largest historically black college community in the world, hotbed of the civil-rights movement, and ... the sprawl capital of the South.

As Atlanta gets greener, who will benefit?

Photo: iStockphoto.

As a resident of Atlanta for the past 15 years, I have witnessed one bad urban-planning decision after another. I have watched the fare for public transportation go up to pay for its expansion into the suburbs, while services in the inner city got cut -- a double whammy for the poor and transit-dependent who make up the system's core ridership. I have seen public housing for poor, black, and elderly residents be converted into upscale condos and townhouses. I have seen a boom in McMansions in historic inner-city neighborhoods, raising property values, contributing to global warming, and making it almost impossible for longtime residents to remain.

Now, I see a proposal that seems, at first glance, like it should be welcome. The city of Atlanta is embarking on one of the most massive redevelopment initiatives in its history: the BeltLine, an ambitious project to transform a mostly unused railroad into a 22-mile, in-town loop of parks, trails, and transit. The plan will increase overall parklands by over 1,200 acres (this, in a city that has significantly less green space than others of similar size around the country) while adding walking trails and bike paths and improving public transportation into the urban core.

On the surface, the BeltLine sounds like a great project, and it could be one. But, although the proposal promises an unprecedented amount of affordable housing units, questions like, "what is affordable?" and "affordable for whom?" have been sidelined in the public debate. Meanwhile, the project also includes plans to develop an abundance of upscale housing in Atlanta's inner city, likewise raising many questions about the likely effect on poor and moderate-income neighborhoods. Thus far, the plan's backers have failed to take these questions seriously -- which speaks volumes about the larger failure of civic leaders to sufficiently incorporate the poor and working class into their process and vision.

Without a fight, I am concerned that these neighborhoods (mine included) will not receive their fair share of the project's economic benefits. I am concerned that they will not be adequately connected to the BeltLine via the new transportation alternatives. I am concerned that they will not benefit equally from the improved parks system and environmental protection and remediation. And I am concerned that, if these neighborhoods do benefit, those who currently make their homes there will not be able to afford to stay.

These concerns are rooted in my awareness of patterns of community transformation across the country. Time and again, when long-neglected poor and polluted neighborhoods are revitalized, they cease to be affordable for the people who lived there (mostly from lack of choice) through the tough times.

Take Atlanta: The region's rapid growth in the 1990s perpetuated suburban sprawl and economic disinvestment in Atlanta's central city. Now, after years of long commutes and unbearable traffic congestion, those who abandoned the city want to come back and create a new Atlanta. City officials welcome this reverse migration and the increase in the tax base that it will undoubtedly bring. But poor and moderate-income citizens know to fear the likely outcome: property taxes, mortgages, and rents will skyrocket. Those who lived in poverty and pollution for years will essentially be shipped out when their neighborhoods are "cleaned up." Poverty will not be eradicated; it will simply be exiled.

If the BeltLine project is going to buck this pattern and help meet the needs of the citizens who could benefit the most, many as-yet-unanswered questions will have to become central to the public debate. What is the timeline for the revitalization, and which areas will be prioritized? Will quality-of-life enhancements for underserved and blighted neighborhoods come late or never, while middle- and upper-income residents benefit sooner? Will the maintenance facilities required for the transit system and other industrial uses be equitably distributed, or will they continue to be concentrated in the lower-end real-estate markets?

As a community leader, I have been invited to numerous pep rallies for the project. But I have been to far too few meetings where the presenters go beyond the canned, pro-BeltLine presentations and answer real questions like these. Indeed, the fact that months after the primary financing for the project has been secured many people in blighted neighborhoods know little or nothing about it is indicative of the limited outreach conducted -- despite boasts from the plan's proponents that they have engaged residents in the process. Moreover, the same people who are touting inner-city transit as a BeltLine gain have been silent on the subject of much-needed capital and service improvements to the existing transit system -- improvements that would better serve those who most rely on and financially support the system.

The "pros" of the BeltLine project can be hyped ad infinitum, but without real action to address key economic and social-justice issues, the project will fall prey to the same old unjust pattern of urban development. At the end of the day, Atlanta's long-suffering inner-city residents need to know: Will the BeltLine equitably distribute economic growth, improved transit, and environmental amenities? Or will it follow the course of other Atlanta revitalization efforts -- making way for the rich folks while moving the poor and underserved out of benefit's way?

Related Links:

Chuck Norris on Copenhagen

Will South Carolina become the nation’s new Yucca Mountain?

Veteran wins groundbreaking claim for Agent Orange exposure at Georgia military base

Jason Edens.

Where do you work?

I work at the Rural Renewable Energy Alliance, a grassroots nonprofit organization whose mission is to make solar power accessible to people of all income levels.

What does your organization do?

At RREAL, we install solar heating systems onto the homes of low-income families qualifying for energy assistance. In Minnesota, and indeed across the country, hundreds of thousands of families depend on energy assistance to ensure they stay safe and warm through the cold winter months, collectively receiving tens of millions of dollars. Although energy assistance is a much-needed service, it does not offer a lasting solution.

Our Solar Assistance Program offers a permanent solution. Rather than paying families' heating bills year after year, or even generation after generation in some cases, Solar Assistance creates lasting structural change by empowering families and fostering self-reliance.

Public energy assistance is a subsidy to the fossil-fuel industry. Solar Assistance is a solution to a persistent societal problem as well as a solution to a persistent environmental problem.

What are you working on at the moment?

Jason Edens with solar trailer.

Right now, RREAL is in the middle of 25 Solar Assistance installations, and we're gearing up to move to a sustainable industrial park where we'll begin manufacturing our own solar thermal collectors. This is going to be a huge leap forward for us, and it'll help us empower many more families per year!

How do you get to work?

It depends. When we have solar-heating or solar-electric installations to conduct, we drive. It's difficult to walk or bike anywhere in rural America unless you live and work right in town. When RREAL does hit the road, we do so in a biodiesel work truck. But soon, and weather permitting, I'll be able to ride my bike to our new manufacturing facility, which is only about five miles away.

What long and winding road led you to your current position?

My interest in energy policy began while living for three years in Japan, where I encountered many communities harvesting the energy of the sun for heating and power. Before leaving Japan, several friends and I organized a bicycling campaign to raise awareness about energy and international environmental issues. The cycling trip was called BEE (Bicycling for Everyone's Earth), and we rode our bikes from the northern tip of Japan to the southern island of Kyushu. We were able to reach scores of Japanese schools, town halls, and civic groups. And the cycling campaign has become an annual event with Japanese and foreign riders traversing the country every summer to discuss environmental issues with the Japanese community.

Some years later, while going to graduate school on a shoestring, I sought out some eco-friendly ways to provide household heat during the cold Minnesota weather. I wanted to do so using solar, but the cost was prohibitive. Serendipitously, I caught word of someone throwing away a solar heating system because the new tenants considered it unsightly! I was there to catch it before it hit the ground and created a solar heating system for a fraction of the commercial cost. The next logical question was, why can't we do this for other low-income families like mine?

Where do you think environmentalists and social-justice advocates can find common cause?

At RREAL, we take great pride in the fact that we've been able to address a social-justice issue -- rural poverty -- with an environmentally sound and appropriate technology. There are many such intersections, and in the big picture, all social-justice issues and environmental issues have similar root causes. There's a tremendous amount of potential synergy between both arenas of change.

Do you see environmental ills disproportionately afflicting the communities where you live and work?

Absolutely. When energy crises strike our region, it's invariably the low-income families that experience the greatest difficulty. Heating and power make up a much larger share of a low-income household's income than a middle- or upper-income family's. This disparity means that a small fluctuation in heating costs can make or break a family's budget, with potentially dire consequences.

The emissions from fossil-fuel power plants have gravely affected Minnesota, with every single waterway under fish-consumption warnings because of mercury pollution -- and there are more than 10,000 lakes here! For area Native peoples who traditionally consume a lot of fish and others who rely heavily on fish for their protein, this has had a significant impact.

How can the environmental movement cast a wider net culturally and become a bigger-tent issue politically?

How about a new high-school graduation requirement? Spend at least one service-learning semester abroad in an impoverished community with acute environmental ills. We are such an insular nation that to a large extent, our citizenry has no concept of how environmental issues disproportionately affect communities along class and ethnic lines.

Where were you born? Where do you live now?

Born in Lawrence, Kan. I currently live in Backus, Minn.

How do you spend your free time? Read any good books lately?

I'm a solar nerd. I'm currently reading The Golden Thread: 2,500 Years of Solar Architecture & Design. When not working on solar projects, I like to canoe the river we live on and run through the woods with my dogs. Getting together with friends for music and reverie is also high on the list of priorities.

What's your favorite meal?

Red beans and rice followed by some yerba maté -- and about a million other veggie meals.

What's your favorite place or ecosystem?

Too many to name, but the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness in northern Minnesota is certainly one of the more magical places on planet earth (but don't tell your friends).

If you could institute by fiat one social or environmental reform, what would it be?

Public energy-assistance funds must be used for solar-heating systems for every household with a suitable site! (Solar power is very site-specific and not appropriate for all sites.)

Who was your favorite musical artist when you were 18? How about now?

At 18, it was probably Black Flag or the Dead Kennedys. Now, it's probably Blackalicious, Spearhead, and Bob Marley.

What's your favorite TV show? Movie?

I don't have a TV, but recently saw the entire season of Freaks and Geeks. There's never been a better TV program! I have too many favorite movies to include them all; here are a few: Triplets of Belleville, Star Wars, and Trainspotting.

If you could have every InterActivist reader do one thing, what would it be?

Go solar! It's easier than you might think. Building your own solar heating system is well within the abilities of a huge percentage of society. If you don't have the skill set yourself, someone you know does.

Jason Edens, Rural Renewable Energy Alliance.

You Can Grow Your Own Ray

How do I find out if my site is suitable for solar, and how do I go about building my own system?    -- Louise Wickham, Wellington, New Zealand

Determining if your site is suitable for solar starts with assessing your solar resource. Essentially, you're determining if enough sunlight strikes the proposed solar array location to make it worthwhile. We use a tool called a solar pathfinder to assess solar radiation at sites. This tool is available from SolarPathfinder and costs a couple hundred (U.S.) dollars. Otherwise, your local solar contractor should be able to determine that for you.

The type of solar power system that's most readily built at home is a solar forced-air system. Check out "solar air heating" on the web for numerous schematics. Other solar-energy systems require much greater sophistication to produce.

I am a student living in a first-floor apartment in a very urban area. Should I try to persuade the building owner to install solar for the whole building? If the owner refuses, is there anything an individual apartment can do?    -- Sarah Glaser, San Diego, Calif.

Go for it. Approach your building owner. The worst he or she can say is "no." The more specific details you can offer in terms of potential cost savings (San Diego would be a great place for a solar hot-water system), the more likely the owner is to listen. There are great resources out there on the internet for finding out more specifics.

Just because you live in an apartment doesn't mean that you can't use solar power. You could get (or make) a solar oven and cook awesome meals with the sun's energy. People all around the world cook with solar ovens. Internationally, they're especially effective in areas where desertification has made traditional cooking fuels like wood rare. Solar cookers are available all over the internet; check out the Solar Oven Society.

What was the focus of your graduate school work? How would you recommend someone get into the solar or wind-power industry?    -- Jesse Langdon, Shoreline, Wash.

My graduate work is in environmental studies policy and planning at Bemidji State University. If you're interested in getting into the industry, it shouldn't be difficult -- the industry is booming. Finding a niche depends on what you want to do. The renewable-energy industry needs many skilled people: installers, manufacturers, renewable-energy advocates, community leaders and organizers, engineers, fund-raisers, lobbyists, etc. Start by setting up your own system -- that's always a good first step. Walk the talk, then talk the walk.

What do you install for people -- solar water heaters or photovoltaic cells? Is the hot water used just for hot water or somehow to heat the house as well?    -- Timothy Hinkle, Middletown, Conn.

We install solar hot-water systems, solar electric systems, and solar forced-air systems. We've used solar liquid heat for space heating in in-floor radiant heat systems as well as potable hot-water loads.

Do you follow up regarding maintenance of the systems you install?    -- Polly Stout, Carey, Ohio

We offer lifetime maintenance for all Solar Assistance installations. If anything goes wrong, fails, wears out, etc., we'll repair or replace. Our Solar Assistance installations are low maintenance, with very few moving parts -- they have only an HVAC direct-current blower fan powered by a solar electric module.

For solar contracting installations, we offer maintenance contracts to the client.

What are your guidelines as to "low-income"? Do you do work in other states?    -- Jeri L. Holmes, Pomona, Calif.

In our service area, we define "low-income" using the same economic thresholds used by public energy-assistance programs. If a family qualifies for energy assistance, they qualify for our Solar Assistance program. The threshold varies depending on size of family and several other factors.

Currently, we don't work outside of Minnesota. However, we do hope that our program expands or will be replicated to serve and empower families throughout the country.

Do you have any advice or information on starting a program like yours elsewhere?    -- Lavelle Ferris, Hamilton, Texas

First and foremost, I would encourage you to start a program. Use our program model if you wish, or tailor it to better suit your community's needs. RREAL is planning to host a national symposium in 2008 on using solar heat for low-income energy-assistance programs. Please join us for that event.

I don't qualify for "low-income," but I feel very low-income. I am a single head of household with two daughters in college, and we literally live paycheck to paycheck worrying about home repairs and other unexpected expenses. Any advice for people like me?    -- Janet Lind, Tacoma, Wash.

I understand what you mean. It's frustrating when the technology that we all realize is most appropriate is simply out of reach. If a society is to embrace clean and appropriate technologies, they must become universally accessible.

If done properly, solar heat should actually save you money. This won't necessarily be the case with solar electricity. Essentially, you'll be purchasing your fuel up-front, realizing that the cost of conventional heating fuels is only going to rise over time. But the capital outlay is often just too much.

In your case -- and actually in everyone's case -- the emphasis should really be on energy efficiency and conservation. You can save more money and energy with simple energy-efficiency upgrades. It's a more subtle statement, but a highly effective one. Try to reduce your energy consumption as much as possible using efficient lighting, low-flow faucet heads, power strips for phantom loads, window seals, and insulation. All of this will accomplish the same thing as a renewable-energy system. And when you can afford the solar water-heating system, it won't have to be as large to meet your needs because your needs will have been reduced!

Everyone wants solar energy, but economics have to be considered for most people to add or convert. Where do your systems stand today vs. average electric rates?    -- Grant Nally, Mulberry, Ark.

When most fossil fuels are heavily subsidized, the playing field is simply not fair. Nonetheless, solar heat is competitive with electric heat, liquid propane, and fuel oil, providing about a 15 percent return on investment per annum. Depending upon local incentives and so on, solar electricity is still not cost-effective -- it will take 20 to 35 years to get payback on a solar electric system unless you are in a remote site without grid access, in which case solar electricity compares favorably with bringing in grid power.

The interesting component to cost comparisons is that they rarely reflect costs external to the commercial market. Such costs are not accounted for in conventional economics. Take, for example, a gallon of gas at the pump. The environmental costs (global warming, smog, etc.) and health costs (asthma, etc.) of burning a gallon of gas are not reflected in the $2.50 you pay. Much in the same way, the social benefits of reducing greenhouse-gas emissions are also not reflected in the costs of renewable energy.

I have a second home in rural Wisconsin on which I'd like to install solar panels. Since I'm there only every other weekend, I thought my rural electric co-op would jump at the chance to have my solar power excess provided back to the grid. They did not; they offered a buyback at less than a third of the kilowatt price that I pay to them. I was surprised to learn that electric co-ops are not held to the same buyback standards as other electric companies. Can you explain this shortsightedness, and do you have any suggestions?    -- Angie Mitchell, Chicago, Ill.

It's unfortunate that your utility is not willing to pay you at a better rate for the surplus power that you would produce. Once our nation gets its energy priorities straight, this won't be an issue.

Different states have different policies about grid-tied solar electric systems and what's known as net-metering. For a great reference guide to what your state and other states offer, check out the Database of State Incentives for Renewable Energy. Click on your state for a detailed listing of your state's incentives. Of course, I would always recommend contacting your state legislators with your concern on this issue. It helps if you get all of your friends to contact them too!

The good news is you live in a state that does offer net-metering (power buyback). Some states don't even offer that. I believe Minnesota is one of the few states that pays its grid-tied solar-electric citizens the same rate that the customer pays for electricity.

Distributed generation of electricity is a democratizing force creating community and self-sufficiency with a clean technology. Even if your state doesn't offer the greatest financial incentives, there are other incentives to go solar.

Will your solar heating products be available for sale to the general public? If not, which products can you recommend?    -- Cory Schulz, Minneapolis, Minn.

Our solar heating products are available to the public. And when the public purchases a solar heating installation or materials from us, they know that all profits generated from that sale go to our Solar Assistance program.

Having said that, there are hundreds of solar contracting businesses in the U.S. You can easily find a solar contracting service with significant experience in your neighborhood. Home Power Magazine (highly recommended!) has a great directory of solar contractors nationwide. If you live in Minneapolis, you might want to check out Innovative Power Systems.

Who or what are the main sources of funding for RREAL's projects?    -- Polly Stout, Carey, Ohio

RREAL's funding is entirely local -- and also very meager. We welcome donations, and they are, of course, tax-deductible. We're striving to do a great deal with very little, and it's only because there is a committed core team composed mostly of volunteers that we're able to do anything at all! With an operating budget of $70,000 this year -- not all of which has been raised -- we're installing another 15 Solar Assistance systems.

We're hoping that policymakers will soon see the practicality of our approach and financial sustainability will come our way.

Can solar panels really provide a household with power throughout the kind of winters you get in Minnesota?    -- Richard Douglas, London, U.K.

Actually, yes. The effectiveness of solar power is more a matter of site than latitude. Minnesota boasts a good year-round solar resource that truly is comparable to parts of some southern states. And snow cover in Minnesota during the winter actually increases the output of some systems.

The potential for solar is generally measured in terms of how many peak-sun hours a region gets. Peak-sun hours are partially a function of latitude and partially a function of regional climate (the number of cloudy days, atmospheric haze, etc.). Peak-sun hours are the equivalent number of hours per day when solar irradiance averages 1,000 watts per square meter. In most of Minnesota, we average about 4.3 peak-sun hours over the year. This number can also change depending on how you tilt your array. Tracking systems or adjustable solar arrays affect this number. Solar radiation data for a site near you (U.S. readers) is available through the National Renewable Energy Laboratory -- an example of your tax dollars truly hard at work.

Whether or not solar will provide an adequate amount of power for a given household also depends greatly upon you. Energy consumption habits vary from house to house -- some are energy hogs, others are conservationists. Are your walls well-insulated? Do you use fluorescent bulbs? Can you hang your laundry instead of using a drier? Taking energy-saving measures is the first step to moving toward solar.

Does solar work in Minnesota and northern latitudes? Absolutely. Is solar the only resource? Definitely not. Solar is part of a milieu of energy options. A diverse energy portfolio for a family, business community, or society is a healthy one. Solar is part of a bigger solution to the world's energy needs.

What is the average overall winter heating energy consumption of the homes you are working on? What is the Btu output of the systems that you are installing?    -- Michael LeBeau, Duluth, Minn.

The average overall winter-heating energy consumption of the homes we are working on varies tremendously. Generally, the homes consume about 100 million to 130 million Btus per season. Most of the systems we employ for Solar Assistance installations are solar forced-air systems, which are simple and low-cost solar heating applications. The systems have an output of 7,500 Btus per square foot per hr at 0 degrees F outside air temperature and insolation of 1,000 watts per square meter. Annual production also varies depending upon site conditions and yearly weather patterns. However, we've estimated that a typical installation provides roughly 30 million to 50 million Btus.

Currently, we are conducting a study on the financial costs and social benefits of using solar heat for public energy-assistance programs. We're hoping to determine the exact extent to which our program could meet the state's growing energy-assistance needs and move the state toward Kyoto compliance. I'd be happy to send a copy when it's published if you're interested.

At RREAL, we were activists before techies; we started with what we thought was a good idea and have been learning the technical stuff along the way, with the help of some knowledgeable friends. We know that the Solar Assistance systems have been highly effective for some of the families using them -- one family was able to remove their fuel-oil tank entirely.

Have you seen opportunities in rural areas where your work could actually become a profitable business? In other words, what creative business plans are out there to turn poor rural energy consumers into paying customers who will buy solar power?    -- Matthew Albrecht, Boston, Mass.

Interestingly, there are proposals in central Minnesota right now to create low-interest lending entities to provide solar power systems of all types to the rural poor. Nothing has manifested concretely yet, but it seems to be in the works.

One thing is for sure: the solar contracting industry is ripe for development, and opportunities for community-based solar installers are great.

We have seen the failure of thousands of build-your-own solar thermal systems over the years. In a freeze-thaw environment like Minnesota, shouldn't you leave solar thermal manufacturing and installation to the professionals?    -- Kari Heinrich, Madison, Wis.

Indeed, solar will only succeed if it's done properly. The collectors that we've been using for the past five years are not homemade. Although refurbishing of used collectors has taken place, all our collectors are SRCC (Solar Rating and Certification Corporation) certified, as appropriately required by Minnesota state law. Collectors we employ are made of timeless materials including metal and glass. Additionally, the majority of our Solar Assistance installations have been solar forced-air, for which the freeze-thaw factor is irrelevant.

Although we probably had more passion than professionalism when we began, we are now only a few steps away from North American Board of Certified Energy Practitioners certification.

We are currently in the process of researching and developing our own thermal collector specifically geared for low-cost, widespread, easy installation in our Solar Assistance program. We have the help of experienced engineers and will submit our design to undergo the battery of tests required for SRCC certification. Manufacturing is slated to begin in November of 2007 and will reduce our per-family cost, enabling us to empower more families. Plus, we hope to offer this collector to the public as well in an effort to generate revenue and create a measure of financial self-sustainability within our organization. Collectors will be properly and professionally engineered, rated, tested and certified, and manufactured.

I am an urban-planning grad student currently interning at Habitat for Humanity, and I have to deal with a fairly conservative construction manager who is reluctant to try new or risky things. Do you think solar water-heating would be applicable in our situation? How can I justify this to a construction manager with an eye fixed on the bottom line?    -- Joe McNulty, Philadelphia, Pa.

You're interning for a great organization, and I'm glad to see more and more green projects coming out of Habitat. I recommend that you locate other green Habitat projects across the country -- they're out there and growing in number. Use that as a reference. Also, you might explain that solar heat, when properly employed, is actually a great investment with an average of 15 percent ROI per annum. And with substantial tax credits available, the financials look even better. This makes solar heat competitive with most other heating methods.

I also recommend that you download RETScreen International's clean-energy project software. RETScreen crunches numbers and provides wonderful data on clean energy projects big and small. The software will provide numbers specific to your site, region, and installation -- giving you stats on energy output and savings, financial summaries, greenhouse-gas emissions, lifecycle costs, and more. And thanks to the Canadian government, it's free.

Installing a solar hot-water system can be somewhat complicated; although volunteers can certainly assist in an installation, it's best to have an experienced supervisor. You should be able to find a few solar contractors in the Philadelphia neighborhood.

Will the onset of higher average temperatures in certain parts of the world lend itself to the greater use -- and, ultimately, wider acceptance -- of solar power?    -- Greg Mash, Wilmington, N.C.

It's difficult to say how global warming will affect the solar resource. Ironically, solar electric panels actually perform better when it is cold. Let's hope it doesn't take the calamity of global warming to convince society that it's time for solar and the renewable revolution.

Do you ever have interns working with you?    -- Eva Fillion, Baltimore, Md.

Yes! C'mon down. We're doing a batch of Solar Assistance installations this summer between July and October, and we will definitely be in need of assistance. We've got a full plate and a skeleton crew. Please consider interning with us.

Related Links:

Slideshow: Reinventing the JP Green House

Al Franken (D-Minn.)

Ask Umbra on shower caps, computers, and junk mail

"A working-class hero is something to be," said John Lennon. But for Hollywood, it's more likely to be a working-class heroine -- at least when environmental issues enter the picture.

Charlize Theron in North Country.

Photo: 78th Academy Awards®

This year, Charlize Theron's crusading miner-activist in North Country garnered an Oscar nomination, following in the footsteps of such Academy-lauded turns as Sally Field's in Norma Rae (1979), Meryl Streep's in Silkwood (1983), and Julia Roberts' in Erin Brockovich (2000). While Theron didn't win (in part because it's been only two years since she took home a statue for her portrayal of another kind of working-class activist, murderous prostitute Aileen Wuornos), the nod still raises the question: What does Hollywood see in poor women fighting the establishment to save the environment?

The women in these four films are themselves forces of nature, righting man-made wrongs, with the emphasis on "man." All inhabit the American heartland, from Oklahoma to Minnesota, from Alabama to small-town California. Each is based on a real woman: in Silkwood and Erin Brockovich, without a name change; in Norma Rae and North Country, with thin fictionalization. And all embody a lefty version of the American dream, pulling themselves up by their bootstraps and their idealism, ennobled while ennobling through their fights.

The struggles of Silkwood and Brockovich were, of course, directed against forces of pollution and contamination. But even the fights of Field's character -- toward union organizing, with an emphasis on ensuring better working conditions -- and Theron's -- against sexual harassment, but, significantly, in a strip mine where the assault on human dignity is multidimensional -- wind up being environmental in both literal and larger senses.

North Country, the most recent of these films, offers a good read on where we stand as a culture. It suggests that three-quarters of the way through the Bush years, a mass audience can still identify with a woman taking on environmental, social, and economic issues, albeit in a relatively restrained manner. The only one of the four movies directed by a woman -- New Zealander Niki Caro, whose previous feature was the immensely successful Whale Rider, another tale of female empowerment -- North Country is set in the not-so-distant past, the '80s, making its heroine's struggle seem simultaneously historical and immediate.

The film -- which is, in many ways, completely safe, since few would want to defend sexual harassment -- finds its greatest resonance in imagery that has little direct connection to Theron's character's struggle, and everything to do with her impoverished state and environment. Its bleak northern landscape, emphasized in a long opening helicopter shot, is a natural correlative of its dominant human-made image, the wintry iron mine in which Theron's Josey Aimes struggles so hard to work.

The mining company's corporate pantheon, whom we encounter with Josey in a Minneapolis boardroom, takes but a few minutes of screen time to reveal themselves as suit-and-tied monsters, humiliating Josey and her modest idealism as fully as the working-class stiffs who overturn women's port-a-potties (with the women in them) or scrawl the rawest of cartoons on their lockers. Ultimately, North Country flashes back to the literal rape mirrored in each of Josey's subsequent instances of sexual harassment, yet these acts are themselves mirrored on a larger scale by the company's rape of the land. Though the suits and their complicity are little more than stereotypical stick figures here, their sliminess oozes over the landscape by implication, almost making North Country an overtly environmentalist film -- though the subject is never directly addressed.

The personal is certainly political in North Country, and the reform embodied by Josey -- as with her big-screen predecessors -- is a necessary corrective, not merely to injustice but to men meddling in the realm of the traditionally "feminine": the earth, Gaia, nature. North Country and its movie sisters express an attitude that's at core deeply schematic and split, dividing male from female, artificial from natural, rich from poor. (That split might be reflected in Hollywood's male counterparts to Josey and company as well -- if there were any. Male social crusaders tend to get their own movies, directed by and starring themselves; see Michael Moore, Morgan Spurlock's Supersize Me, and even an early ecologically minded predecessor, Bill Mason's Waterwalker.)

If that, in turn, seems to be just "how things are," an embodiment of natural forces that can't possibly be questioned, perhaps it's really just an indication of what a profoundly conservative -- not in the best meanings of the word -- culture we currently inhabit.

The same Oscar show that included Theron's nomination also included a montage of scenes from past Hollywood "issue movies" in this, a year of multi-issue nominees. The message was clear: Hollywood's always led a progressive, reformist agenda. But Hollywood's most truly radical films, those of the late '60s and '70s, had more in their sights than mere reform.

The analyses of American society -- including attitudes toward greed, environmental devastation, and yes, women's roles -- posited by films such as Bonnie and Clyde (1967, directed by Arthur Penn), McCabe & Mrs. Miller (1971, directed by 2006 honorary Oscar winner Robert Altman, still heroically defiant after all these years), and Chinatown (1974, directed by Roman Polanski and anticipating North Country's linkage of personal and landscape assault) speak to a vastly more far-reaching vision of the need for transformation of American society. It's a vision in which mere reform is both insufficient and impossible.

Norma Rae and Silkwood fit that pattern, the former climaxing with the galvanizing image of its heroine's defiant "Union" placard waving -- clearly intended as a modest call to arms -- and the latter leaving us with the unsettling ambiguity surrounding its title character's death, and the question of whether she was killed by those she opposed. By contrast, Erin Brockovich ends in an atmosphere that led the New York Times' A.O. Scott to sarcastically brand it "the feel-good movie of the year," and North Country wraps up on a modest note of domesticity and reconciliation.

The more recent heroines are compromised figures, but Hollywood has made sure they are still "successful." They and their movies aspire to a kind of safe, middle-class respectability. An understandable goal, perhaps -- but it's hardly enough to inspire the social change needed to combat global devastation.

Related Links:

Chuck Norris on Copenhagen

Lawsuit accuses Virginia power company of poisoning Dominican community with toxic coal ash

Climate Citizen: Majora Carter

Like many tribal lands across North America, the Sokaogon Chippewa reservation in Northern Wisconsin faces environmental perils that threaten not only the land, but also the livelihood and culture of the people who live on it. The Sokaogon spent close to three decades battling one of those perils: the proposed reopening of a nearby zinc and copper mine. In 2003, thanks in large part to the efforts of environmental director and tribal council member Tina Van Zile, the tribe joined forces with the neighboring Forest County Potawatomi to end the battle -- by buying the mine.

Rich with casino profits, the Potawatomi paid cash for their half of the $16.5 million purchase. The Sokaogon, one of the smallest and poorest tribes in the U.S., have tried a wide variety of fundraising efforts -- from selling commemorative mine borings to auctioning off rifles -- to raise their share of the bill, which comes due this April. In this virtual walking tour, Van Zile introduces us to her tribe and to the land they are trying to protect.

Donate to help the Sokaogon tribe protect the Wolf River.

Related Links:

Chuck Norris on Copenhagen

Lawsuit accuses Virginia power company of poisoning Dominican community with toxic coal ash

Climate Citizen: Majora Carter

Space is the place where race, poverty, and the environment get sorted out, for better or worse. And the spaces where we live, work, learn, and play are the places where integration succeeds or fails, argues Sheryll Cashin. The Georgetown University law professor wrote 2004's The Failures of Integration: How Race and Class Are Undermining the American Dream, one of the most important and provocative books on civil rights in recent years. (Read an excerpt from the book.)

Sheryll Cashin.

Photo: Institute on Race & Poverty.

Like the environmental movement, the civil-rights movement has become too focused on litigation, says Cashin. While legal rights are essential, she says, the most important cause of segregation and poverty in America is the simple fact that even after 50 years of legally enforced integration in the aftermath of Brown v. Board of Education, poor people and people of color still live in spatially isolated communities. Space is the problem. But it could be the solution too.

With information and mapping tools now widely available and accessible online, communities can put all their concerns on the same map. Some are doing just that, and coming up with new solutions for integration and the environment. But to truly integrate what Cashin calls our "life space," more environmental, civil-rights, education, and economic development organizations need to break out of their own boundaries to integrate the tools and organizing needed to bring people together in a common space.

Cashin spoke to Grist from her home in Shepherd Park, an integrated neighborhood in Washington, D.C.

Students approach a newly integrated Tennessee high school in 1956.

Photo: Library of Congress.

People tend to think of the civil-rights movement as one of the great success stories of American history. And yet integration has failed. Why?

The chief gains of the civil-rights movement were that we delegitimated discrimination. The vast majority of Americans now believe that no one should be limited in their access to anything based on race. But the unfinished business of the civil-rights movement is actually ordering our society in a way where people really do have opportunities, so that the vision of an egalitarian society is actually true for people in their daily lives.

The reason it's not true for people in their daily lives is that we've not yet made the advances to date that we should have in housing. We haven't really opened up our life space to racial and economic integration. There's a lot of intentional policies, both historic and current, that encourage segregation, exclusion, and homogeneity, instead of integration, heterogeneity, and inclusion. My initial impulse in writing this book was to give up on the integrationist ideal because it is too hard.

What's so hard?

The hardest question, in my view, is this business of opening up neighborhoods and schools and institutions in a truly inclusive way.

Some of the issues that you see as important -- affordable housing, for instance -- involve development. Doesn't this often conflict with environmental goals?

The existing pattern of development, the way the physical space of America is being developed, is in conflict with the goals and aspirations of environmentalism. Frankly, in brutal terms, a lot of what drives sprawled, leapfrog development is white families who want to have this elusive American dream, of a poverty-free, good-school existence, where [their] kids will be free of crime.

I'm not saying people are racist when they make these choices, but I think an increasingly diverse American society, with people who are different, creates fear in a lot of people. And our policies reflect that fear. And sprawl development leads to more people in the car, more auto gas emissions, more eating up of open space and land. And if you are a person who is concerned with sprawl, and if you are a person who is concerned with auto emissions, I think you need to understand that fundamental issues of race relations in this country are part of -- not all of, but part of -- the impediments to you getting saner public policies adopted. And I think you need to begin to look for allies beyond the environmental community to get you to 51 percent in any policymaking realm, because after all, you're not going to succeed in your policy agenda until you get to 51 percent.

In an increasingly diverse world, we're rapidly moving toward the day when we're going to be a majority-minority America like California and Hawaii are today. If you don't have the skill sets and the empathy to identify other communities with some potentially common goals and build those coalitions, you're going to continue to be marginal. You're going to continue to lose battles. And I've got to say, I'm not an active member of the environmental movement. But I consider myself an environmentalist. You know, I care, I recycle, I try not to overuse energy, all those things. But from my perspective, everything I see, the environmentalists are losing. And they're losing badly. Am I wrong about that?

I don't think so. So much of your argument seems to come back to schools, and environmentalists traditionally have paid little attention to education. Is there a case for environmentalists getting involved in educational equity and education reform?

Yes. Here's where the intersection is: much of what fuels suburban sprawl and white flight is the chase for quality schools. There's a book called The Two-Income Trap that shows there has been a run-up in bankruptcies because two-income families with children have been engaging in these bidding wars to get into the most expensive house they can afford. That fuels this outward development. If we could create more stable racially and economically diverse communities, there would be much less pressure on outward development.

You write that GIS [Geographic Information Systems] is one of the most powerful tools to help people in communities visualize and understand their communities and envision solutions. Could you describe why?

The real expert on this is Myron Orfield, who was a state representative and senator in Minnesota. He got the state to pay for a GIS study to look at where public infrastructure investments were going. They found this general pattern of the favored quarter. Often there will be a quadrant that is overwhelmingly white and affluent that is getting a disproportionate share of public dollars that fuel growth. And middle-income people are actually subsidizing it. And the central city was subsidizing it.

He was able to form a coalition, once he could put the data together, that transcended boundaries of race and class to work together around these interests. They realized [all] of us are in the same boat. They formed a majority in the state legislature. And they passed a series of progressive laws, including a regional authority that had strong powers over land use. It helps a lot when you put objective facts on the table.

If you could set up the perfect mapping tool for communities to grapple with these questions -- say a Google Earth that could focus on your community and include all the information you needed to identify problems, ask questions, and brainstorm solutions in a spatially specific environment -- what would it look like?

It's not for me to tell a community what they should be mapping, although I have some ideas. But if you want to build a groundswell, to get hundreds of thousands of people involved, then involve them in identifying the issues that they care about and think ought to be tracked. In Seattle, they track not just school quality and testing, but salmon spawns, and what the salmon population is, air quality, number of units of affordable housing. All of these give you a clear, objective sense of how your community is doing, and you can use that information to bring in allies.

You write about some communities that are already doing this. Which ones inspire you?

Chattanooga, Seattle, a number of communities do this. What inspired me generally was that people who care about sustainable development have been empowered through this. Individuals and organizations found power and allies through this and interconnections. And they relate them back to public policy choices. And that inspires me. Individuals feel powerless to change anything. And if you're sitting at home, you are powerless. There are mechanisms for making a difference, but you're going to have to find allies, and find or build institutions or coalitions.

You live in a neighborhood that the Washington Post has described as "fairly well-integrated." What's so great about Shepherd Park?

It's not a perfect community. It is stably integrated. You have mostly whites and blacks living together. It's integrated down to the neighborhood block level. We are close in to the city. I get to work in 20 to 30 minutes. I can walk from where I am to restaurants and take public transportation to the gym and movies. I live in a beautiful home. The neighborhood is pretty stable. There's some crime, but not a lot. There are people who are affluent and not affluent. And the public school -- I don't have kids yet, but I'm working on it -- it's a good public school. It could be better. But it's solid. It works for the kids. And it shows you can live in a diverse society.

How could it be better?

More of the families who are in this neighborhood could send their kids to the public school. In the book, I analogize community to being in a marriage. A marriage is work. You have to work at communication and negotiate differences. It takes people who are committed to moving across boundaries of their race and class.

You were born and raised in Huntsville, Ala. You dedicate The Failures of Integration to your parents, who were political activists. What kind of imagined community did they see for you?

They imagined the community that they created for themselves. My parents were activists, but also members of the Unitarian church, although both became Baptists later. I grew up in a household where the most fascinating people would come through. My parents lived a very diverse life, with friends from a lot of different realms. They modeled for me how they wanted to be in the world. These were two people with very strong black identities. They wanted me to value who I was as a black person and value black institutions, but also not cut myself off from exciting, interesting things.

What would you imagine for your children?

Basically the same. I would like my kids to be able to have a broad array of choices, in terms of living, in terms of schools. I'd like them to go to institutions that actively cultivate diversity, where everyone's included, so it's a true community of humanity. It may sound idealistic, but that's what I hope for.

Related Links:

Chuck Norris on Copenhagen

Environmental education in Guinea Bissau

Home Economics of the JP Green House, Part 1

The following passage is excerpted from The Failures of Integration: How Race and Class Are Undermining the American Dream. (For more on this issue, read an interview with the author.)

The growing concern with sprawl creates an interesting possibility for alignment of urban and suburban, white and minority, affluent and poor interests. Advocates for low-income people and for cities and older suburbs need to be much more involved in the smart-growth and sustainable-development movements. It is highly relevant, and even more important to expanding opportunities and choices for low-income minorities.

Steering growth to the urban core has a number of benefits. It saves millions in public resources by building on existing infrastructure rather than sinking funds into new roads, sewers, and utility lines. It renders cities and older suburbs more vibrant and attractive, especially as an alternative to intense traffic congestion and a withering daily commute. It makes the centers of job growth more accessible to the urban poor, especially when mass transit and bus routes for marginalized communities are improved. It cuts down on loss of open space and uncontrolled growth on the outer fringe. Above all, steering growth inward will contribute mightily to the vitality of existing developed neighborhoods where many people of color live. Coalitions for smarter and more sustainable growth, then, are highly relevant to the project of cultivating successful socioeconomic integration.

Those who come to the growth issues solely from an environmental perspective should also be interested in enhancing race and class integration, because more people will feel inclined to choose neighborhoods in the densely developed urban core as they become comfortable living with difference.

Race and class issues hover below the surface of the smart-growth and sustainable-development debates. It is time to bring them out into the open in order to advance a mutually beneficial agenda. It is time for those in the smart-growth and sustainable-development movements who have not done so to account for their failure to address the issue of inequity, especially of the racist kind ... There will be no such accounting, however, without the insistent advocacy of civil-rights and community organizations that are committed to racial and economic justice. They must join in and shape this debate.

How will Detroit grow?

Photo: USGS.

Faith-based organizations have an especially critical role to play. They can bring their moral persuasion and values to bear in raising issues of equity and socioeconomic inclusion in the smart-growth debate. At the very least, an inclusive agenda demands that individuals, including those living in advantaged communities, make a personal commitment to accepting some social responsibility. Faith-based organizations have enormous credibility and unique standing to argue this case. In the Detroit metropolitan area, for example, one of the driving forces behind the creation of a new multi-county regional transit authority was a multiracial, city-suburban church-based organization called MOSES (Metropolitan Organizing Strategy Enabling Strength). A new regional entity that will provide greater access and connection between the inner city of Detroit and its surrounding suburbs is an important feat for one of the most racially segregated regions in the country.

In addition to the regionalists, the community builders, and the smart-growth and sustainable-development advocates, there are many other types of interests that could be brought into this fold. Education advocates, for example, should join with smart-growth and community advocates to combat the vicious cycle of sprawled growth that starves school districts in older communities of needed revenues and encourages the flight of the middle class to ever newer school districts on the suburban fringe. And leaders of cities and older suburbs should also participate in this movement because it will enable more middle-class families to see their localities and public schools as viable, attractive options. In sum, all of the organizations currently working to bring about a little more justice and sanity to our mutual existence will be vital in this work.

Nothing transformative will come to pass, however, without an unprecedented activism on the part of those who currently suffer under our separatist system. Far too many people and interests, wittingly or unwittingly, benefit from our fragmented condition. As Frederick Douglass, one of my personal heroes, once said: "Power concedes nothing without a demand. It never did and it never will."

Related Links:

Chuck Norris on Copenhagen

Lawsuit accuses Virginia power company of poisoning Dominican community with toxic coal ash

Climate Citizen: Majora Carter

Tirso Moreno.

What's your job title?

General coordinator for the Farmworker Association of Florida.

What does your organization do?

We work to empower communities of farmworkers and the rural poor, focusing on a wide range of issues, from workplace and community organizing to disaster preparedness and response, from vocational rehabilitation to immigrants' rights advocacy for farmworkers and students.

The needs are great in farmworker communities. Agriculture is one of the three most dangerous occupations in the United States, and farmworkers have the highest rate of chemical-related illnesses of any occupational group. Farmworkers do not enjoy all the same protections under OSHA laws as do most other workers in the U.S. In spite of improvements made in the past century for workers in this country, laborers in agriculture are still little better off than they were as depicted in Edward R. Murrow's Harvest of Shame.

In years past, the majority of farmworkers were African-American -- a holdout from the time of slavery. Today, the majority of the workforce in agriculture and horticulture is Latino, mainly from Mexico, Guatemala, and El Salvador, with an increasing number of Haitian immigrants. These workers come to the United States often at great risk to themselves and in the hopes of escaping deep poverty in their home countries. They are too often readily exploited because they do not know that they have certain rights in this country regardless of their immigration status. Language can be a barrier too, as is fear of job loss and/or deportation. Some are financially beholden to the "coyote" or recruiter who helped to smuggle them over here. These are modern-day cases of indentured servitude.

How does your work relate to the environment?

Why should environmentalists care about farmworkers? Well, do you eat? Do you buy plants from a nursery or flowers from a florist? Do you play golf? Or work in a finely landscaped office building? If you do any of these things, chances are that you have been exposed to pesticides. And, the people who made it possible for you to have that food, or those flowers, or who grew the sod on your golf course or the plants in your landscape, were more than likely low-wage farmworkers who, along with their families, were exposed to pesticides in the production processes. The extensive use of pesticides for agricultural production puts Florida farmworkers at high risk for pesticide exposure, acute poisoning, and associated adverse health effects.

Some environmentalists are more inclined to take the human element out of the picture. What's left is a picture of pesticide-contaminated lands, lakes, streams, and aquifers; of toxic-waste dumps and Superfund sites; of bird deaths and reproductive problems in alligators and other wildlife; and, in the case of methyl bromide, of ozone depletion. Our organization is not an "environmental" organization in the traditional sense. However, our experience has taught us that you cannot work to address farmworker issues without addressing the issue of pesticides.

Agribusiness dominates the agricultural economy in the U.S., and pesticides are an integral part of its operations. Pesticides, however, are indiscriminate. They may kill insects and plant pathogens, but they also can have health impacts on the workers who are exposed to them. Thus, over the years, pesticide health and safety has become a major focus of our organization. We do not call ourselves an "environmental" organization, but we do work extensively on issues of environmental justice, and we have reached out to environmental organizations to begin to make the connections between farmworker issues and the environment. Ultimately, we are all on this planet together, and if we are going to save it so that our children can grow up with clean air, soil, and water, we have to work together.

What are you working on at the moment?

One of our most important projects right now is trainings that teach health professionals how to diagnose, treat, and report pesticide-related illnesses. After all these years of ever-increasing pesticide usage, most doctors still have no knowledge or training about signs, symptoms, and/or treatment of health problems from pesticide exposure. Concerned and trained health professionals could literally mean the difference between life and death for some farmworkers.

After hurricanes Katrina, Rita, and Wilma, my staff and I put a lot of time and energy into disaster response and relief for farmworker communities that were devastated by the storms and were refused emergency housing from FEMA. In fact, we are currently a partner in a lawsuit against FEMA for not providing emergency housing to farmworker families because they were undocumented. That is against the law.

Where were you born?

I was born in Mexico and came to the United States in 1971 with my family to do farmwork.

Where do you live now?

I live in Apopka, Fla., in the shadows of the world's No. 1 tourist destination -- the Mouse in Orlando.

What long and winding road led you to your current position?

From 1971 until 1982, my family and I traveled from Florida to Michigan following the seasons, harvesting citrus in Florida and apples in Michigan. I saw the way the workers were treated and the way they lived in terrible conditions, while the growers were making money off of our labor. For five years, I was a member of the United Farmworkers Union and was elected by the workers to be a worker representative. In 1983, I became the lead organizer for the Farmworker Project of the Office for Farmworker Ministry. In 1986, we formed the Farmworker Association of Florida, and in the years since, we have grown into a statewide organization with five offices and farmworker members in 12 counties in the state. Even after all these years and all our hard work, conditions have improved very little for farmworkers. The power and influence of agribusiness is strong. We still have so much work to do.

Where do you think environmentalists and social-justice advocates can find common cause?

It is critical to our planet that we begin to work together, and I think farmworkers' issues are a good place to start. Everybody's gotta eat! We are all getting exposed to pesticides through our foods, and it might even be affecting our children. Environmental health might be a point where we can come together.

Do you see environmental ills disproportionately afflicting the communities where you live and work?

Absolutely! In Apopka, the "other side of the tracks" is largely low-income, minority people of color. Within a two-mile radius, there are two landfills, two sewage-treatment plants, a medical-waste incinerator, plastics manufacturers, and fiberglass manufacturers. There are two Superfund sites, and the state's most polluted lake is found in close proximity to communities of color. In south Florida, there are farmworkers who live in trailers within 10 feet of tomato fields where methyl bromide is sprayed. Try to site some of these things in affluent white communities -- there would be an uproar.

Who is your environmental hero?

Cesar Chavez.

How do you spend your free time?

What free time?

Which stereotype about environmentalists most fits you?

I don't know about me, but I have a stereotype of environmentalists as being rather affluent white people who go around with binoculars to watch birds and don't see the connections between their lifestyles and the poverty in their communities.

If you could institute by fiat one environmental reform, what would it be?

I would like to see much stiffer penalties and bigger fines for companies and individuals that cause environmental destruction that harms people's health and, in some cases, even costs them their lives. Too often, polluters and multinational corporations just get what amounts to a slap on the wrist; the fines imposed don't even begin to affect their "bottom line." People are sick and dying while they make bigger profits. That is not right.

If you could have every InterActivist reader do one thing, what would it be?

Spend one day working out in the fields picking oranges or tomatoes at piece rate and see how much money you make at the end of the day. That is, if you can make it until the end of the day.

Tirso Moreno, Farmworker Association of Florida.

Give Him a Farmhand

A note from Moreno:

This interview is especially timely as next week (March 27 - April 2) is national Farmworker Awareness Week. I hope you will all take a few minutes to find out more about the actions, activities, and campaigns going on around the country and see what you can do to help make a difference for farmworkers in the U.S.

Do you support bans on pesticide use? Do you prefer organic farming? -- Patrick Aberg, Washington, D.C.

It would be great -- for people and for the environment -- if we could produce all of our food without the use of synthetic and harmful chemical pesticides and fertilizers. I believe we have not even begun to feel the serious long-term effects, on human health and on ecosystems, of all these chemical additives to our land, air, and water. The truth, however, is that the pesticide and fertilizer companies have a stranglehold on our economy and on agribusiness. It is difficult enough to get even a single pesticide banned -- methyl bromide, for example -- so a complete ban on pesticides in our lifetime is not plausible. The most we can hope for at the moment, I believe, is the reduction of pesticide use, the research and implementation of sustainable alternatives, and the banning of the most toxic pesticides.

Buying organic produce can be beneficial in one important way: it sends a message to agribusiness that the public demands a safer food supply. With enough people moving to organics, the industry will have to "follow the money." However, buying organic does not solve the problem of small farms being swallowed up by big agricultural corporations. And banning pesticides in the U.S. would probably mean only that manufacturers would then continue to sell those same harmful chemicals to struggling farming communities in Third World countries with fewer environmental regulations. There is no easy answer. We must continue to question and challenge the way things are done and work toward the best solutions.

One of the main reasons I buy organic produce is to help reduce the amount of pesticides used. Can you tell me what effect it really has? Are the lives of the workers in an organic environment any better? -- Christian Bergeron, Vancouver, B.C.

There is currently much debate about the real benefits of organic versus conventionally grown produce. Weak national organic standards have enabled large agricultural corporations to get into the organic business because organic produce is becoming increasingly more popular among middle-class consumers. Farmworkers working in organic fields, obviously, do not have the same health risks of exposure to pesticides as farmworkers in "chemically dependent" agriculture do. However, if they are not earning a living wage, are faced with fear and intimidation by their employers or labor contractors, and do not have adequate housing and access to schools, health care, and other services, then they still face significant difficulties.

I think the organic question is a matter of researching the individual companies growing the organic produce. There is no one general easy answer. It will require research on the part of the consumer to identify which companies are truly applying ethical environmental and labor standards. Perhaps a better question is to ask how we can advocate for stricter national standards for organic farming.

What do you suggest that growers can do to improve conditions for workers? What about processors? Manufacturers? -- Shauna Sadowski, San Francisco, Calif.

For one thing, growers, processors, and manufacturers can pay workers a fair and living wage. Many workers are making the same amount that they did 10 and 15 years ago. Workers need adequate pay, health care, and other benefits. Companies can stop union busting, permit union organizing, and then engage in honest, collective bargaining with workers. They can provide a safe working environment, which involves many things from proper pesticide health and safety trainings for workers, to compliance with the field sanitation laws and worker protections standards, to safe bus transportation to and from the fields.

Another big problem is the contract-labor system. Agricultural companies attempt to distance themselves from their responsibilities to workers by hiring them through labor contractors, who sometimes cheat the workers out of their full pay, charge them excessive amounts for housing and transportation, smuggle them into the country, and keep them intimidated and uninformed of their rights. This is advantageous to the companies, helping them to look like their hands are clean, and keeping the lawyers out of their deep pockets by forcing them to pursue the labor contractors.

Many environmentalists are critical of monoculture, planting a single crop in a field. Other techniques involve planting more than one type of plant in close proximity, and could reduce or even eliminate the need for pesticides. Would such techniques make the life of farmworkers more difficult? -- Mark Stephen Caponigro, New York, N.Y.

I think companion planting, or the non-monoculture technique of planting, which is common in Mexico and other countries, makes better environmental sense. If farmworkers are paid by piece rate, as many are now, then yes, it is possible that it could make life more difficult for workers because they would have to walk farther to get to the next row. That would be time lost in trying to pick a sufficient quantity to warrant a good day's pay. However, if the change in farming techniques were accompanied by a change in the way workers were compensated, then it could be potentially beneficial all the way around.

I often hear the argument that immigrant workers, including undocumented ones, are "doing jobs Americans won't do" and should therefore be welcomed, "illegal" or not. Do you agree that they are really doing jobs that no one should have to do -- at least at the low wages paid and without adequate health and safety considerations? -- Charles Rettiger, Gainesville, Ga.

It is important that we change the way we look at farmwork. Because it is low-paid, backbreaking labor that is often performed by those who do not own the land they are working on, and who work for poverty wages and live in substandard conditions, it has become stigmatized as a job that "no one wants to do." One of the goals of the Farmworker Association is to bring a level of dignity and respect not just to the workers, but to the work itself. Farmwork and farmworkers feed the country, and the work they do should be honored and valued. Right now, as our increasingly urbanized society gets further and further away from connection with the land, farmworkers are the invisible workforce without which we would all go hungry.

What is your favorite fruit? Can anything compete with the orange? -- Patrick Aberg, Washington, D.C.

I like grapes a lot. (And I like oranges and lots of other fruits and vegetables too.)

It seems like the main problem that immigrant farmworkers face is the lack of jobs in Mexico and other Central American economies. Do you agree? Is the lack of jobs getting better or worse? What can be done about it? -- Michael McGrath, Fort Collins, Texas

The answer to this question encompasses many things, and I am glad you asked it. We live in a global economy, like it or not. The immigration issue, the farmworker issue, can no longer be discussed in simplistic terms that look only at our own country. The passage of NAFTA served to displace many local subsistence farmers and farming communities in Mexico and Central America. Poverty has increased in many of our neighboring countries to the south, and our foreign-trade policy and multinational corporations are partly to blame. Poverty and desperation are what induce people to leave their homes and families at great risk to themselves to seek a way to make a living in a strange and unfamiliar place. I think, in many cases, the poverty has gotten worse as local communities lose their land-based economies. Part of the solution lies in reining in the corporations that move across the border seeking ever cheaper labor. Our foreign policy needs to change. This is becoming a global problem, and we need to look at the whole picture to devise workable solutions.

Environmentalists and farmworker advocates fought in court for tougher methyl bromide regulations in California, setting work conditions and limitations on spraying near homes and schools. Did Florida institute similar regulations? Is this something that should be pursued, or do you think efforts should focus on banning this neurotoxin from the farm landscape? -- Sam Fromartz, Washington, D.C.

Methyl bromide is a hot topic right now. It was supposed to be phased out in 2005, but farmers keep asking for and getting exemptions so they can continue to use it. Right now, the EPA is reviewing methyl bromide, and, instead of a sustainable alternative, is considering replacing it with an equally toxic fumigant called methyl iodide, which has serious consequences for human health. We are currently working with Pesticide Action Network of North America on a fumigants campaign to try to let EPA know that neither methyl bromide nor methyl iodide are acceptable.

In 1998, the Farmworker Association of Florida worked in collaboration with Friends of the Earth, Farmworker Self-Help, Florida Consumer Action Network, and the Legal Environmental Assistance Foundation to produce a report entitled, "Reaping Havoc: The True Cost of Using Methyl Bromide on Florida's Tomatoes." The report helped to launch the "Sustainable Tomatoes" campaign, which involved, among other things, conducting air-monitoring tests in communities bordering tomato fields in Homestead, Fla. What we found was that methyl bromide, a toxic gas that is used to fumigate the soil, drifted into neighboring homes, schools, and churches. Members of a congregation at a nearby church even became sick from the methyl bromide "drift" into their parish. The results of the air-monitoring tests were clear and dramatic and even received significant attention from the local news media at the time. FWAF and FoE used this data to try to pressure the state of Florida to increase the width of the buffer zones around fields where methyl bromide was applied. Florida is not as progressive as California when it comes to laws regulating farming operations. The result of the campaign, even with allied groups around the state putting pressure on the state agriculture department, was that no changes were made to existing regulations.

Right now, however, the Farmworker Association is embarking on a "revival" of the methyl bromide campaign, with hopes that we can advocate for new regulations. A combination of factors makes this timely: 1) The EPA hearings on fumigants this year are a key opportunity for citizen input. 2) The tragic unfolding of three cases of infants born with severe birth defects to young women who all worked on the same farm -- AgMart in Immokalee -- has captured national attention. AgMart discontinued the use of five pesticides, but, unfortunately, methyl bromide was not one of them. And 3) FWAF is beginning a project to once again do air-monitoring tests on fields where methyl bromide is used. We are hoping this combination of factors will bring more traction to efforts to get better regulations in Florida.

I really appreciated the following thoughtful and insightful questions from Suzie Hodges' third-grade class in El Cerrito, Calif. It gives me hope that there are young people who are thinking on these issues and caring about the injustices in our world. You are the ones to whom we must leave a legacy of justice and environmental integrity, and you are the ones who will help shape the future.

What is "piece rate"? How does that work?

Piece rate means that workers get paid according to how much they harvest in a day. For example, a worker in a citrus grove will be paid so much for every pound of oranges he or she picks, rather than being paid by the hour. There is a law now in Florida that says that farmworkers cannot earn less than the hourly minimum wage. However, there is a problem with labor contractors sometimes "shorting" the workers by not recording the correct amounts and taking the extra money for themselves.

Have you ever been treated unfairly?

Yes, in many instances. I saw how my family and my fellow workers were treated when we traveled with the crops. Whenever one of my brothers or sisters is treated unfairly, it is an act against myself. That is why I made the decision to devote my life to making changes, to fight the injustices.

How many hours a day do you work?

Sometimes I work 14, 16, 18 hours a day. I do what I have to do to get my work done. But it is never done; I get up the next day and do it again.

Do you like being a farmworker?

Yes, I very much like farmwork and have taken my children to the groves and fields so they can learn the work. I believe we make a wonderful contribution to the nation. Without farmworkers, you would not have food to eat.

What does working on a farm do to your body?

Farmwork can be very hard on a person's body. On-the-job injuries are all too common; farmwork is one of the three most dangerous occupations in the country. Skin rashes are one of the most common problems experienced by farmworkers. Often this is the result of coming in contact with pesticides and fertilizers or from allergies to the plants themselves. Other common problems are respiratory in nature. Exposure to pesticides, dust, and other airborne particles can take a toll on workers. Arthritis, rheumatism, joint pain from the bending and stretching, and the overall strain on the body are also problematic for workers. In the long term, there can be diseases like cancer, diabetes, and heart trouble. In extreme cases, exposure to pesticides can result in birth defects.

Why is Cesar Chavez your environmental hero?

He was a humble man who never swerved in his dedication to the struggle for farmworkers. He was honest and believed in working for justice for farmworkers. He also tried, in union contracts, to negotiate to protect workers on the job.

Who are your other heroes?

I have many heroes. My father and mother are two of them. Also, Martin Luther King Jr. and Gandhi.

If the new law about immigration passes, what do you think will happen to our food supply?

That is a very good question. The immigration reform bills being debated in the U.S. Congress are of major concern to us right now. A large percentage of this country's farmworkers are undocumented, and if they are all deported, there will be a desperate shortage of labor to work the farms and nurseries. Workers in this country without papers would be forced into ever more desperate situations, and hardships would increase drastically. Most employers are not supporting the ugly legislation that has been introduced by some members of Congress.

We are asking everyone who cares about people, about farmworkers, and about human rights and justice to call their senators and urge comprehensive immigration reform. This issue is most urgent. You can get more information from the National Network for Immigrant and Refugee Rights.

Related Links:

Ask Umbra on ditching dirty things

Chuck Norris on Copenhagen

Toward a medically defensible energy policy

Consider the trappings of modern life: Calvin Klein Eternity, gasoline, Gore-Tex, Aveda hairspray, paint, particle board, polyurethane iPod cases.

Is this the face of the future?

Photo: iStockphoto.

Now imagine that you're allergic to virtually all of them.

Environmentalists usually think about chemical toxicity as either a dramatic local crisis (Bhopal, Love Canal) or the simmering concern of those far away (breast-feeding mothers in the Arctic) or far in the future (our oft-evoked grandchildren). But for people suffering from Multiple Chemical Sensitivities, the chemical crisis is already here. Indeed, thanks to industrialization, it is already everywhere. And, like so many environment-related health issues, it disproportionately affects the poor -- and, moreover, drives many once financially stable people into poverty.

As a disease, Multiple Chemical Sensitivities doesn't have an official case definition yet (more on this soon), but rather refers to a broad range of adverse symptoms brought on by an even more broad array of everyday chemicals. These symptoms are often provoked at exposure levels far below those that seem to affect the rest of the population -- levels virtually always present in our homes, workplaces, and social venues. They commonly include severe headaches, food intolerances, difficulty breathing, nausea, irritation of the eyes, ears, nose, throat, and skin, and disorientation or confusion, but there are many more.

The best information currently available suggests that MCS is a chronic condition with no cure. Although some treatments (such as acupuncture) seem to help some patients, recent surveys by the Chemical Injury Information Network, a nonprofit education and advocacy organization for people with chemical sensitivities, found that avoidance of problem chemicals was the only consistently effective treatment.

If only avoidance were as simple as it sounds. Just as modern life almost inevitably involves contributing greenhouse gases to the heating atmosphere, it is all but impossible to navigate the industrialized world without being immersed in tens of thousands of potentially troublesome human-made chemicals. And just as an honest fight against global warming would pose a huge threat to powerful energy companies, a real effort to take MCS seriously could throw a wrench into the operations of a huge range of industries that produce chemicals and chemical-laden products.

Mainstream medicine has been slow to recognize the role environment can play in disease. With many doctors either unaware of MCS or doubtful it's a real condition, simply getting diagnosed is a battle. Even those who recognize the disease are often unfamiliar with treatment options. As a result, MCS patients frequently must visit multiple health-care practitioners -- a process that is both emotionally and financially costly -- before they can put a name to their illness and make the necessary (and often radical and pricey) lifestyle adaptations it requires.

"Prior to 1988, I was a healthy, athletic physician who played drums in a rock band. A year later, I was severely disabled with Multiple Chemical Sensitivities," wrote Ann McCampbell, a member of the board of the Multiple Chemical Sensitivities Foundation and chair of the MCS Task Force of New Mexico, in Focus magazine. "The onset was subtle, with slowly worsening food intolerances, progressing to the point I could only eat three green vegetables. By then I was also having severe reactions to inhaled substances and had developed headaches, fatigue, heart palpitations, abdominal pains, and nausea. Like so many others with MCS, I could no longer tolerate where I lived and was forced to live outside in my yard, the car, or a makeshift shelter."

Despite some improvements since then, "I go to few places outside my home," she wrote, "in order to avoid exposures to cigarette smoke, pesticides, perfume, vehicle exhaust, cleaning products, and other toxic fumes which make me sicker."

McCampbell hasn't discovered what triggered her sensitivities, and her baffling experience is typical of many others with MCS. The few scientists studying the disease are baffled as well, struggling to understand its etiology. Current theories range from a genetic predisposition to chemical injury, to neurological damage, to abnormalities in detoxifying enzymes, to a so-called "toxicant-induced loss of tolerance" to environmental stressors, in which one particular exposure to a toxic substance overwhelms a person's system and leaves them unable to cope with exposures to a wide range of other toxins.

In fact, doctors have thus far failed to agree on a case definition for the disease. That's created a catch-22: the lack of a definition makes it more difficult to secure funding for MCS research, but more research is needed to better understand and define (not to mention treat and cure) the disease. "Right now, one of the things MCS [researchers and patients] get hammered on is that there is no agreed-upon case definition, despite the fact that three attempts have been made to get the [Centers for Disease Control and Prevention] to accept one," said Cynthia Wilson, executive director of the Chemical Injury Information Network.

Other activists, like McCampbell, stress that there's a working definition of MCS, and that the lack of a standardized case definition shouldn't be used as an excuse to halt research or deny patients crucial accommodations.

What few surveys have been conducted on the prevalence of the disease in the U.S. paint a patchy picture, but hint that it may be relatively widespread. A 1995 survey by the California Department of Health Services found that 6 percent of state residents reported doctor-diagnosed MCS, while a more recent survey of Atlanta, Ga., area residents published in the May 2004 issue of the American Journal of Public Health found that 3 percent of respondents reported receiving an MCS diagnosis.

If those figures are at all representative of the nation as a whole, the number of MCS sufferers could range from 9 million to 17 million. Some of them are undoubtedly able to function with lifestyle adaptations: removing carpet from their homes, filtering air and water, using ultra-eco-friendly cleansers and personal-care products, eating organic foods, and limiting contact with toxic substances like pesticides and solvents. Other patients, however, are far more deeply compromised by the disease.

For those in the latter group especially, the No. 1 issue is housing. "Because of the nature of construction materials, it's very difficult for people [with MCS] to find safe housing," says CIIN's Wilson. And without safe refuge, it is all but impossible to live a relatively symptom-free life.

Some people with severe MCS try to build or renovate from the ground up, using exclusively nontoxic materials, but even under the best financial circumstances this is no small feat. Moreover, people can only exercise so much control over their surroundings -- there are neighbors and property owners to worry about. "Even if [people with MCS] find safe housing," says Wilson, "it doesn't mean it stays safe housing. If, for example, a bug shows up, a landlord typically wants to spray a pesticide, [rendering] the housing no good for someone with MCS."

For many without a significant financial safety net, the quest for a safe space is maddening -- and the first step on the road to economic ruin. Susan Abod is a Santa Fe, N.M.-based vocal artist and filmmaker with MCS whose latest film, Homesick, documents how people with MCS are affected by their search for safe housing. The ability to cope with the disease, she says, "has to do with access to finances and resources. ... If you do have money, you can always find another home, and you can refurbish it with safe products. But those of us who don't have access to a lot of money or who are renters or who have assisted housing from the government [face] a lot more limits."

Extreme Makeover: Home Edition.

Photo: iStockphoto.

CIIN's Wilson concurs. "For lower-income people who do not have the wherewithal to move or to find safe housing, it is a big problem," she says. "Most people with MCS end up living in their cars." Others wind up in a friend's backyard, a stripped-down RV, or a canvas tent on public land. For that reason, the housing problem gets worse in winter, says Wilson, "because people can't just go camping, can't solve their problems by living outdoors."

Nor can they take advantage of traditional safety nets for the homeless. People with MCS "have to stay away from most chemicals that are on people's clothes, on people's bodies, and in buildings," says Rhonda Zwillinger, an artist and photographer who spent close to a decade interviewing and photographing some 250 people with MCS for The Dispossessed Project, a powerful ongoing photo essay. (That project was compiled into a book called The Dispossessed: Living With Multiple Chemical Sensitivities.)

"[The MCS homeless] are mostly not living in urban areas, they're mostly trying to live in rural areas where the air is cleaner and the water is cleaner, and that becomes a problem because the services [for the homeless] are less available in rural areas," says Zwillinger. "And they can't go into shelters the way the [non-MCS] homeless can," because in a busy building they would likely encounter any number of chemicals their bodies can't handle.

It can be even more difficult finding an MCS-safe job. Even if a workplace itself is a tolerable environment (rare, given the ubiquity of toxic building materials), basic job-related interactions with the general public can be impossible. "The way a typical story goes," says Zwillinger, "is that people lose the ability to make a living because they can't be out in the public arena" without getting ill. Some MCS patients find a way to work from home (assuming they've found safe housing) -- but that option is seldom available to poorer Americans forced to rely on low-wage, low-skill jobs.

"Almost all of us have to make severe accommodations to [MCS], and it does take a lot of money to successfully do that with any kind of grace," said Wilson. "Most people find themselves one day employed and the next day unemployable. The financial upheaval that this illness causes is heartbreaking."

Even chemical companies no longer deny that chemicals accumulate in our bodies simply by virtue of being alive today. But they insist that the concentrations are too low to cause any harm. For MCS sufferers, at least, that reassurance rings brutally hollow.

A well-publicized 2003 study by the Environmental Working Group and Mount Sinai Hospital in New York found "an average of 91 industrial compounds, pollutants, and other chemicals in the blood and urine of nine volunteers." Out of the 210 substances tested for, 167 showed up in at least one of the volunteers. Meanwhile, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention's latest National Report on Human Exposure to Environmental Chemicals contains a detailed breakdown of 148 different chemicals and substances found in a representative sample of the U.S. population -- from organochlorine pesticides to dioxins to metals like cadmium.

Very little is known about how individual chemicals affect the human body, let alone the potential cumulative effects of dozens or hundreds of interacting chemicals. There are over 80,000 chemicals registered for use in the United States, with up to 2,500 new ones reviewed by the U.S. EPA every year, and government oversight is minimal when there's any at all. Manufacturers are responsible for safety-testing their own products, and they have no incentive to look for potential problems -- quite the contrary.

The lack of chemical regulation in the U.S. is perhaps most glaring in the case of cosmetics and personal-care products, which, given their ubiquity, are subject to shockingly lax oversight. The Food and Drug Administration has nominal authority over them, but little actual regulatory power. Makers of lotions and potions aren't required to file information on ingredients with the government, or report cosmetic-related injuries. The FDA can't mandate safety studies of cosmetics, and doesn't even have the power to order product recalls.

"An average adult is exposed to over 100 unique chemicals in personal-care products every day," says Jane Houlihan, vice president for research at the Environmental Working Group. "These exposures add up." EWG has been sounding the alarm on carcinogenic or otherwise worrisome cosmetic ingredients, and has built an interactive database that ranks shampoos, deodorants, and other products on their potential harmfulness.

The ubiquity of cosmetics is just one reason people with MCS remain segregated from society, though there have been some advancements on this front in recent years. Some workplaces and schools (like The Evergreen State College in Olympia, Wash.) have instituted no-fragrance policies -- but in general, those with MCS cannot count on much help or protection from employers, landlords, the government, or the medical establishment.

It's a bitter irony, since many with MCS see themselves as canaries in the modern-day coal mine. As recently as 1986, the exquisitely sensitive yellow birds were used to detect the presence of dangerous gases in mine shafts, and when they showed signs of illness -- when they ceased to sing -- it was an unambiguous warning: evacuate.

As growing numbers of MCS sufferers are driven from their homes and jobs, pushed to the fringes of medical science and the brink of financial ruin, made sick by industrialized civilization itself, we would do well to heed their equally urgent warning. And fast, because this time around we can't evacuate. There's nowhere else to go.

Related Links:

Ask Umbra on ditching dirty things

Chuck Norris on Copenhagen

Ask Umbra on trash, toxics, and tots

"Many Diversified Interests" sounds like a line from a college application, or advice from a responsible money manager. In fact, though, it's the name of a Superfund site in the Fifth Ward, one of the oldest and most disenfranchised neighborhoods of Houston, Texas. For the most part, children growing up in the Fifth Ward don't have anything like the extracurricular life of fruitful choices promised by a phrase like "many diversified interests." Instead, these youngsters come of age amidst toxic waste and illegal dump sites; all too often, their nearest neighbors are poverty, neglect, and despair.

Some of these kids, however, do at least have a productive and rewarding outlet -- one that is helping them to creatively document and change both their own lives and their community. For the past three years, the Museum of Cultural Arts, Houston (MOCAH) has used a series of art projects to teach environmental awareness to these youth through a program called Project GROW.

This year, Rhonda Adams, who cofounded MOCAH with her husband Reginald, gave neighborhood children cameras, art supplies, and lessons in everything from photography to lead pollution -- and then sent them out to document the Superfund site and other environmental hazards of the Fifth Ward. The resulting photo collages provide a sobering counterpoint to the typical rainbow-and-blue-skies artwork of young children. And they send a (literally) graphic message to their viewers: all children deserve a safe and healthy community.

Adams, who lives just blocks away from the Superfund site, feels that it is her moral obligation to do this work. "I have a young child of my own and I realize that one day we will have to rely on these children to become the stewards of the community," she says.

The children's artwork will be featured in a photography exhibit, "Artists Responding to Violence Against the Earth," at Houston's FotoFest 2006, from March 16 through April 22.

Project GROW is a community outreach partnership between the MOCAH, Sierra Club, Community Toolbox for Children's Environmental Health, the Houston Parks and Recreation Department, and the Houston Childhood Lead-Poisoning Prevention Program.

For more information or to support the MOCAH, email or call 713.224.2787.

Click here to view the slide show.

Related Links:

Ask Umbra on ditching dirty things

Chuck Norris on Copenhagen

Environmental education in Guinea Bissau