Racism Is Killing the Planet

The ideology of white supremacy leads the way toward disposable people and a disposable natural world

[Note: This article was published originally on the Sierra Club's website. I do not take credit for it - though I wish I could! - and thought the information was so breathtakingly enlightening, it should be shared as often as possible. - DA ]

BY HOP HOPKINS | JUN 8 2020

Last week, my family and I attended an interfaith rally in Los Angeles in defense of Black life. We performed a group ritual in which we made noise for nine minutes to mark the last moments of George Floyd’s life. My wife, my oldest daughter, and I played African drums to mark those nine minutes with the rhythm of a beating heart. Da-dum, da-dum, da-dum, over and over again. 

While we drummed, I realized how difficult it is to keep up any physical activity for nine minutes straight. Most of us can’t even sit completely still on our butts for nine minutes; if you’ve ever meditated, you understand why they refer to sitting as practice. 

As I struggled to maintain my posture and keep up the rhythm, I thought about the level of commitment it takes to hold someone down for nine minutes straight. The realization horrified me. The cop who has been charged with murdering George Floyd had to have been deeply committed to taking his life. The police officer had so many chances to let up the pressure, to let George live. Yet the officer made the choice not to. 

To spend nine minutes taking the life-breath from another person: That is what white supremacy does to white people. That is what white supremacy does to the rest of us too. White supremacy robs each of us of our humanity. It causes white people to view Black people as less than human. Every one of those cops watching George die was convinced that the man pinned to the ground was less than human, was in some way disposable. 

Otherwise, how could they hold him down for nine whole minutes? How could they bring themselves to do it? 

You can’t have climate change without sacrifice zones, and you can’t have sacrifice zones without disposable people, and you can't have disposable people without racism.

During the street protests and marches of the past two weeks, many people carried signs that read “Racism Is Killing Us.” It’s no exaggeration to say that racism and white supremacy harm all of us, because in addition to robbing us of our humanity, racism is also killing the planet we all share.

An idea—a long-overdue realization—is growing in the environmental movement. It goes something like this: “We’ll never stop climate change without ending white supremacy.” This argument has entered the outdoor recreation and conservation space thanks to the leadership of Black, Indigenous, and other people of color in the climate justice movement. The idea has taken on new force as folks in the mainstream environmental movement do our best to show up for George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Tony McDade, and all the Black people still living and subject to police violence.

I know that a lot of people are struggling with the thought that addressing the environmental crises must involve dismantling white supremacy. At Sierra Club meetings, some people hear me say something like that and think, “Damn, fighting climate change wasn’t hard enough already? Now we have to end racism and white supremacy too? Seriously, man?”

I get that feeling of being overwhelmed. It’s a lot to carry. It’s a lot to hold. We all have enough to do without feeling like we’re taking on even more.

But I want to share another lens from which we can view this moment. I really believe in my heart of hearts—after a lifetime of thinking and talking about these issues—that we will never survive the climate crisis without ending white supremacy. 

Here’s why: You can’t have climate change without sacrifice zones, and you can’t have sacrifice zones without disposable people, and you can't have disposable people without racism. 

...(continue reading here.)

#sierraclub #hophopkins

Review: Educated

Educated by Tara Westover
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This searing non-fiction tale of family lost, found and lost again is nearly sublime for its prose and unflinchingly honest understanding of its own inadequacies and the humanity of its protagonist. It's a punishingly hard-look at how mental illness in a family can be spread like a disease over generations and will leave no one its wake untouched. Dr. Westover's triumph is hard-won and comes at a cost. The organization of the story was sharp and well-paced.

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Review: The Line Tender

The Line Tender by Kate Allen
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This is a well-thought-out book, written with near-poetic grace and sensitivity. This novel is centered on the life of a young girl who is coping with the death of her mother, a woman whose scientific work studying sharks creates the unifying motifs of the sea, sharks and water throughout the story. Lucy, on the cusp of discovering first love, experiences another tragic loss. The characters of her father, their widowed neighbor and her father's friend Sookie are tightly written, and while not as dynamic as Lucy's development throughout the story, these three men create their intriguing storylines.

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Playing Cards with Death

There has been a lot of talk in my life lately, these last few months, about death, and Death.

My mother has talked about her funeral arrangements. My husband and I are wondering about our last wishes and how we should prepare a last will and testament. My uncle passed away this year. I know a few people, some close, some not, who are sitting with Death, or playing cards with Him, bluffing for a longer round.

I do not enjoy speaking about the afterlife. I think some people see it as an opportunity to paint a future, where all their disappointments and resentments in life are avenged by the sorrow and grief of those left behind.

I think it may be possible by talking about It, that we will have some power over Death's timetable. If you can speak Its Name, comfortably and easily, then perhaps you are exorcising any inner fears about It.

There is nothing I can do about Death. He comes when he wants; he takes what he needs, and he leaves when he is fulfilled.

I do not think of death as a Gift; I do not think of death as a Punishment; I do not think of death as something to fear. I do not think of Death, Sam, I am.

I believe I am not afraid of the afterlife or of death or even dying. I am a little concerned about any pain; if there is pain involved, it is worrisome.

I accept the finality and futility of worrying about death. Therefore, I'd rather focus on the possibilities and the multiple eternities we can create, in Life.

We Do Not Know When We Are Called

My Uncle Henry was laid to rest today, amid songs and stories of how he has affected the lives of so many. His children, my loving cousins, did an amazing job, coordinating with other family members, to send Uncle Henry to heaven in the most thoughtful, loving way, filled with joy and laughter.

In fact, at the interment, songs he loved, like "The Rhinestone Cowboy", were played, with some chuckles and tears.

Some of the stories that were shared were so hilarious at the services, that, although I had prepared a statement about my own love for Uncle Henry, I thought the somber tone of my words would draw away from the much appreciated joy being shared. Therefore, now that the services are over, I thought I would share them here, for my cousins and family members.

"Henry Polohau Kahula, Jr. was a great man, in stature and spirit. He was father to six, but a father to many more. Throughout his life, he was known to welcome extended family into his home, and they worked equally as hard as his own children, with housework, yard work, and felt equally as loved. His majestic voice with its throaty timbre was accompanied by his skilled playing on the guitar. He was passionate about his family and about his community. He sought to right the wrongs he witnessed, and as an educated man, he wrote many eloquent letters to the local paper, as well as running for office himself. Although he did not win a seat, he won the hearts of many, and made his family proud. He brought music, cheer and life to his family and he would have wanted to have been remembered as a man of song, and a man of hope. "

Thank you, Uncle Henry, for reminding us of what true Aloha is about. We love you. Always.

Hug your loved ones often. As Uncle Henry would say, "Everyone is on the list. We just don't know when we will be called."

Kauai

Enjoy every day you're alive. When you are dead, it won't matter.