Environmental Justice Activists Look Like My Students

“Who do you know that is an environmental justice activist?”

Silence.

“Who have you heard of who has fought for the planet or against climate change?

Silence again.

In a packed classroom of 36 students at Parkrose High School, one of the most diverse schools in the state, a painful and uncomfortable quiet filled my new classroom in Northeast Portland.

“Greta-what’s-her-name?” said a student sitting in the front quietly. 

I soon learned that many students actually did have an image of people who fight for the environment and to stop climate change. In a class of majority students of color, most could describe only people who did not look like them — white activists and leaders from far away. But when I talked about environmental injustice, they had a vivid example close to home. 

In July 2023, just two months before school began, the abandoned Kmart site just down the street from the school was engulfed in flames. The four-alarm fire impacted students and families that lived on the other side of the chain-link fence from the site, in apartments just feet away. What followed was even more detrimental, with the announcement that asbestos had circulated in the air to the point that Parkrose High School had to close for a few days and sports practices were canceled. The community received media alerts and warnings to take care with what they breathe and touch. Students shared vivid stories that reeled out one after another.

In my new Environmental Justice class, where I hoped students would learn about connections across environmental and climate movements, finally it was noisy with connections. We began to study the devastating fires of Lāhainā and the intersections of colonization, the global climate justice movement spurred by the Pacific Climate Warriors, and environmental racism of asthma rates in areas of Portland where families of color predominantly reside. Each time, students found a piece to connect to the neighborhood — to their own homes and school community.

But how could it be that as they engage with energy, they don’t see themselves as activists for the environment? How come they can’t imagine people who look like them fighting for these changes?

I decided that our final project of the first semester would be action projects drawing on the issues and impacts of harm done to the environment, along with the actions they wanted.

I asked students: What do you want the world to know about environmental issues impacting you? What do you want others to do to help? What do you want to do about these issues? 

As we brainstormed, the topics students raised were about their recent experiences with the abandoned Kmart site. I listed the issues on the board as students shouted out. 

Students worried about the air quality. “We don’t know if we’re breathing decent air now,” said Laila. “We haven’t seen any numbers to know if things are that much better.” 

There were concerns about the community’s safety. “The Kmart building was abandoned for a long time before that fire,” said Naila. “It was completely neglected and I don’t think that would happen in other neighborhoods.” 

Frustrated with decision makers’ lack of transparency and advocacy, Ricky added, “We don’t know what’s on that property now.” 

“We live here and no one asks us what they should do,” echoed Brandon.

Students generated a long list of accumulated problems.

We dove into identifying the root issues of their neighborhood experiences by first researching what the abandoned Kmart site was like before the Prologis corporation acquired the 260,000-square-foot property. This multibillion-dollar corporation describes itself as “the world’s leading industrial real estate company.” I created a photo gallery of the timeline of the site for students to interact with using sticky notes, and we watched news clips and read news articles. Quickly, students began incorporating research of the history of the abandoned Kmart site, the health impacts of the fire, and actions already taken by the community. What’s more, they learned that Prologis announced plans to turn it into a freight distribution warehouse. Hundreds of trucks are projected to drive by the school daily, increasing pollution in an already asthma-stricken neighborhood and school zone deemed a high-crash area. 

We walked down the street to the Kmart site to take photos of what jumped out at them. “What do you notice?” I asked. “What do you want other people to see through your eyes? What do you want them to pay attention to?” One student took a picture of broken glass in the alleyway, another took a picture of the apartments behind the fence, and another zoomed in on the tarp in the middle of the abandoned lot that covered a large hill of debris. A few minutes looking at the site from the other side of the chain-link fence was all it took for many students to feel the neglect of the place. 

“What’s coming up for you?” I asked. “What are you wondering?” Comments of “It’s so dirty” and “How come no one cleaned this up?” rippled through the group. Emma said, “I want to capture what’s not here, that there are no fire hydrants out here.” 

The next week, we dove into examining the impact of the abandoned Kmart site through hearing personal stories from each other. I created a class treasure hunt as a mixer for students to ask each other questions and interview one another as experts. Questions included “Find someone who can tell you what the fire was like.” “Find someone who has a memory from when Kmart was still there.” And finally, “Find someone who can tell you an idea they have for what the abandoned Kmart site should become.” Students held one-on-one conversations, meeting and interviewing each other, and journaled about their findings from personal narratives gained from classmates.

As we began to address the action students wanted, I had the class look at examples of surveys from neighborhood organizations like Parkrose-Argay Opportunity Coalition and Sierra Club. The goal was to survey 20 or more students, staff, family members, or those who live in the Parkrose neighborhood. Students drafted both quantitative and qualitative questions, including what people wanted to see in the neighborhood in place of Prologis’ plan. Students walked around the school with QR codes of their surveys, collecting more than 130 results. Students wrote a summary of their findings noting patterns and comments that resonated with them or surprised them. From there, students brainstormed the action they wanted for the old Kmart site. 

I asked, “What should be done to that site that looks like environmental justice or community justice to you?” I wanted students to grasp that they and others in the community should have a say about the use of supposedly “private” spaces. Ideas filled the board as I wrote down student suggestions.

“I want a community center,” said Amiah. “A place where kids can play after school or on the weekends, and where parents can pick their kids up after school.”

“I want a grocery store with healthy foods,” said Mindy. “When it was an old Kmart, at least we could walk to do our regular shopping.”

“What about a playground?” asked Damare. “The other parks really don’t have a play area for little kids and families to hang out at. It could be a nice place that brings people together,” he said.

“I think if anything, we need a homeless shelter,” said Makiyah. “Homelessness is everywhere and it’s not going away. There’s so much space there. Why can’t we do that?”

I instructed students to write to themselves in their notebooks and explain on paper their vision and why that’s important to them. In addition to affordable grocery stores, they wanted childcare centers, shelters for houseless women, community centers, and education facilities to extend the high school’s capacity for electives and sports. 

I knew these ideas were too important not to share with the community. I wanted students to see how powerful their ideas and voices are — that they are the community, and have the right to step up and lead for justice. I posed the idea to the students: “What if we take your ideas further and invite people to come hear what you have to say?”

“Isn’t it going to be too late, though?” said Miley. “I mean, the bulldozers are already out there.”

“We won’t know unless we try,” said Zahara.

“OK,” said Miley. “I’m down. I say let’s try.”

With nods across the room, the decision was set to invite the public. Students identified people they wanted to be there: Prologis, city officials, environmental lawyers who can help, district representatives and staff, fellow students who can support and be educated about the issues, and the media to help spread their demands for action. With their peers’ thoughts and personal testimonies, students developed trifold presentations with the hope that the community would show up to listen to them. They wanted a chance to stop environmental injustice from further harming their beloved neighborhood. 

But I still wondered: What about the fact that for my students, an environmental justice activist still looks like Greta Thunberg? How do I help them imagine a more just world where they are educated and connected to activists who look like them? I didn’t want them to just read about diverse environmental justice activists who looked like them, I wanted them to meet them and talk with them. 

I reached out to five community-based organizations to come talk with the students. I invited Blueprint Foundation, which provides education and mentorship to Black youth in environmental education; Momentum Alliance, which inspires and mentors BIPOC and LGBTQ+ youth activists committed to social justice; APANO, which organizes and advocates for the community welfare of Asian and Pacific American peoples across the state; Verde, which works in the intersection of race and environmental justice for Northeast Portland’s communities of color; and 350PDX, the local affiliate of 350.org that organizes globally toward climate action policies. Students researched websites and articles from these organizations and learned about different forms of action they take toward limate justice. 

Prologis did not respond to our invitation.

One month later, we were ready for the school’s first Environmental Justice Fair. With 67 large trifolds prepared with three sections — Issues, Impacts, Actions — we readied the library for guests, thanks to help from our wonderful librarian, Em Winokur. I had estimated 50 visitors, but instead, more than 400 arrived, entering the library nonstop, visiting students, asking questions, and taking pictures. Students and teachers rotated through a crowded library, buzzing with excitement and an overwhelming presence of love and support. Ricky stood next to his trifold as another teacher said to him, “You must be proud of what you’ve done. This is so well thought out. Everyone should see this.”

Students greeted guests at their action project trifolds during the first half of the fair, and then circulated around to the tables hosted by the various environmental justice groups during the second half. Students clamored to meet activists from organizations whose names they had heard only in class. The activist groups were joined by environmental lawyers and law groups who use law as their tool for social justice, including Crag Law Center, Northwest Environmental Defense Center, and 1000 Friends of Oregon. Argos Scientific, an environmental resource company contracted by the school district following the July fire, demonstrated their data collection system to monitor air quality in the Parkrose area. 

As a KGW (the local NBC affiliate) news reporter and camera crew walked in the library, a group of students came to grab me in astonishment. “I can’t believe they came,” said Miley. “This is really going to happen,” she said. The reporter interviewed three students about their experiences with air quality issues in the neighborhood, how the Prologis construction of the proposed truck stop would exacerbate the environmental and health issues, and actions they wanted for the abandoned site. 

“It could make things really bad for me,” said Zahara, describing how she already uses an inhaler before track practice. 

“I see so many kids walking by and adding trucks to the mix of regular cars is not a good idea,” said Kaiah.

“There are consequences of the extended use of these trucks and these shipping containers coming through our school,” added Miley. 

Afterward, she wrote, “I can’t believe the news wanted to report us.” 

I had not seen this from students all year. They didn’t need me to tell them they have power to make a difference. They saw it and they felt it. There were hugs, there were selfies, and smiles throughout the library. It was a day I won’t forget and that I hope the students hold on to. 

What’s more, that day of the Environmental Justice Fair changed the way we think in class. “I didn’t think we actually had that kind of power,” Rayn said. They reflected on the change they could already see — in the number of people from the community who showed up to the many students who became aware of the issue from reading their trifolds. 

“When you said it’d be a big deal, I didn’t think that many people would show up,” Desmond shared the next day.

Our learning was real and finally felt real to the students. Some could imagine themselves getting involved with the environmental activists and groups they met. 

“I got the application for Blueprint Foundation,” said Ricky. “I think I’m going to do that this summer.

“I decided to be an environmental lawyer,” announced Nicole.

“I think it was so cool that he came,” said Lolina, one of our Pacific Islander students in reference to Kevin Aipopo from Momentum Alliance, a prominent Pacific Climate Warrior we had studied about in class. “He said we can get involved with stuff he’s doing here in Portland,” she said. 

Students recognized that people care, that the community cares — and that their vision for a more environmentally just neighborhood matters. The Environmental Justice Fair showed students that the reason we learn is to change the world for the better. And that this world needs their voices in it.