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

You can't eat an IPhone

Copyright 2017 Austin Photography

Living on an island, you get a close-up view of how urban sprawl can affect the availability of good farmland. There needs to a balance. On a related note, there is a high need for farmers. In our tech-driven world, we are minimizing or forgetting about the value and honor that farmers deserve. They raise, grow and develop food for us. You can't eat an iPhone.

My Beloved Leis

Plumeria with Purple flower (Ribbon Lei) designed by Tracy Harada 

The following is a section, taken from Na Mele O Hawai'i Nei, 101 Hawaiian Songs, collected by Samuel H. Elbert and Noelani Mahoe, published by the University of Hawaii, Copyright 1970.


This is a name song composed by Mary Kawena Pukui for her grandson, La'akea, shortly after his birth on November 8, 1949. The "many birds" are admiring people.


'Ohu'phu wale au iku'i leo
   
   onaona

[I wear my fragrant lei]
                               _
Ku'u lei oh;ohie o na kau a kau.

[My lei cherished in all seasons]
              _
Au mai na maka o ka nui manu

[The eyes of many birds behold]

I ku'uy wehi nani e lei mai
      nei

[worn forever as a lei]



Please forgive any errors, as this is 1) a transcription to Blogger, which does not have a supporting font for Hawaiian and 2) I am not fluent in Hawaiian. I copied the symbols such as the 'okina and the macron (__ above the letter) as best as I could. I also added the bold and the brackets. The layout is slightly different than what you find in the original publication.

Why did I do this post? I needed to test some posting services, and I thought, do something interesting. SO... yeah, I naturally ended up doing something more challenging than probably what it is worth. At least I got a chance to read some beautiful Hawaiian songs, and it reminded me that one day, one day I should as least try to learn more.

If you come from a heritage which has a language other than English, I think you should try to reconnect or explore it. I encourage you. 

I regret not having encouraged my children earlier than now. They are both in high school, and they are, to me, a little disconnected with their grandmother's, and my, culture. My daughter is at least thinking about taking up hula. She would be beautiful at it. I can see her, in my mind's eye.

For now, they are both, still, my special leis, which I wear in my heart.

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."