Metro

BY Peder Schaefer ILLUSTRATION Floria Tsui DESIGN XingXing Shou

Twice a day, Monica Huertas, an environmental justice in 2014 that organizes against fracking and natural gas activist from South Providence, makes the long drive projects across the Northeast. Huertas became the down Allens Avenue to pick up and drop off her son coordinator for FANG’s #NoLNGinPVD campaign that from school. Passing the industrialized waterfront sought to stop the construction of a $180 million liquialways makes her feel the same way. “I’m sick to my fied natural gas plant proposed by National Grid. While stomach,” Monica told the College Hill Independent. the campaign wasn’t able to halt the construction of “It’s not only from the nauseating smells but from the the plant—which will be completed in 2021—Huertas deep down feeling that at any moment, if someone and other activists pressured Providence Mayor Jorge throws a cigarette out the wrong way and it catches the Elorza to come out against the construction of the wind, that shit is gonna explode.” facility. As an offshoot of that activism, Huertas helped

Allens Avenue is only a few minutes drive away form a Racial Environmental Justice Committee in from Downtown Providence and the wealthy, green 2016 with the Office of Sustainability in the City of neighborhoods of the East Side and Fox Point, but it Providence. feels a world away. When driving towards the Port of “Let’s stop having people at the top, mainly white Providence, the highway looms overhead, elevated on men, make decisions for us,” Huertas told the Indy. stilts, and abandoned buildings stand next to mounds “Instead of top down, let’s have community folks tell us of asphalt. The Seaplane Diner is across the street from what they want, what a sustainable system means to a pile of scrap metal. A lone biker pedals down the road, them.” Huertas’s work with the Racial Environmental buffeted sideways by the wind and drag of passing cars. Justice Committee led to the publication of Providence’s

Farther up Narragansett Bay, at India Point Park, Climate Justice Plan in 2019. Nearly 100 pages long, it’s a different story. There, friends gather for picnics on the plan lays out the complex and often overlooked the sloping green lawn and fishermen cast their lines environmental history of Providence, demonstrating off the pier. At one entrance is a sign that celebrates how frontline communities—communities of color the building of the park. Albert Veri, the architect, is most impacted by the crises of ecology, economy and quoted: “It’s but a beginning. You plant something and democracy—have borne the brunt of environmental it grows. Adjacent areas in time will tie in. This will be impacts. The document also contains suggestions for the seed.” how Providence can take steps towards a more envi-

Past the sign is a panoramic view of the mouth of ronmentally just and equitable city. It hopes to ensure Narragansett Bay. You can make out Allens Avenue in that the environmental cleanup doesn’t just lead to the distance, off to the right. The only green that meets gentrification, like at Fox Point, but instead benefits the eye is the gentle slope of India Point Park running local residents. down towards the water. A woman is out walking her One key element of the plan put together by dog. community members is the idea of Green Justice Zones.

India Point Park has not been a seed for a green Joshua Kestin, one of the coordinators for Sunrise coastline. If anything, the park has been a seed for Providence, a local hub of the national youth-led gentrification in Fox Point. Many Providence resi- climate justice Sunrise Movement, told the Indy that dents—like those in Monica’s neighborhood in South there are two key elements to the zones: stopping Providence and Washington Park—still live with the polluters from continuing to pollute while increasing impacts of an industrialized waterfront. Toxic air, funding for environmental remediation projects—new poisoned water, and constant noise are only blocks parks, pollution clean up, etc.—in impacted commuaway from their front doors. nities. Huertas is working with the Rhode Island mental justice after buying her first home. She realized backyard, or let her children play in the street because Department of Environmental Management, city +++ planners, and other working groups to try and move “I’m going to go take it down with my damn hands if I tionally racist city policy towards frontline communihave to,” Huertas told the Indy about the infrastructure ties—embodied most of all in racially-tinged zoning on Allens. Huertas initially got involved with environ- decisions—isn’t easy. she couldn’t drink the tap water, plant seeds in her +++ towards this new model, but shifting decades of tradiof the impacts of decades of pollution, much of it from The Climate Justice Plan is a part of Providence’s larger the industrial polluters in the Port of Providence. The aim to become carbon neutral by 2050, a goal set by area around the port, where Monica lives, has one Elorza in 2016 via executive order. “We obviously of the highest rates of asthma cases per capita in the cannot continue to have fossil fuels emitted in the port residents to opt-in to more renewable energy blends entire state. Rhode Island has the ninth highest asthma if we are going to meet that goal,” Leah Bamberger, the that are different than those supplied by National Grid. rate in the entire country. The environmental inequi- director of the Office of Sustainability, told the Indy. For example, a customer would be able to choose a 100 ties between the South Providence and Washington Right now, Providence is financially compensating percent renewable energy electricity supply and pay a Park neighborhoods and the East Side of Providence local community cohorts in two different Green Justice higher price than a typical customer. are stark, manifested not only in the appearance of Zones—Olneyville on the Woonasquatucket River With that said, Providence hasn’t pursued the each area, but also in the health outcomes of neighbor- and near the port of Providence—to help craft policy more ambitious ideas laid out in the Climate Justice hood residents. ideas from the ground up in the spirit of “collaborative Plan so far. Bamberger said many of the policy levers

Huertas began grassroots organizing with the governance.” outlined in the plan are long-term goals that will have Fighting Against Natural Gas Convergence, or the FANG Providence has taken a few steps down the path laid to be pulled by future city councils—such as zoning Collective, in 2015. FANG is an activist group founded out in the plan. Municipal buildings are now hooked up changes to prohibit new fossil fuel infrastructure, to a 23 MW solar farm, and the city is trying to obtain increasing access to renewable energy in Providence, more coastline access on Public Street near Allens. and making greater investments in parks and enviProvidence is also about to launch the Community ronmental remediation in frontline communities. For Choice Aggregation plan which would allow city example, Bamberger said that Portland had recently passed a zoning law that bans the building of new fossil fuel infrastructure in their city. Providence hasn’t made those kinds of changes, at least not yet.

It’s difficult to keep track of distance on Allens. All of the tanks, scrap yards, and metal fences seem to blend together, creating a chaotic symphony of industrial blight. A Honey Dew Donuts is nestled up against the on-ramp to the interstate highway, about halfway down the street. A scrapper, Joshua, was idling his pickup on the black pavement outside. He said he sold metal, mainly old catalytic converters, to Sims Metals and Rhode Island Recycled Metals, two of the larger scrap metal companies on the waterfront. Abandoned cars, pieces of junk, and an overloaded dumpster litter the property of Rhode Island Recycled Metals. The state successfully prosecuted the business in state court in 2015, accusing it of polluting the Providence River, but changes to the operation have been glacial. A satellite image of the property shows a site littered with partially dismantled ferries, shipping containers, and even pieces of an old Russian submarine.

The Shell Terminal is another half mile down the road. Rows of tall white fuel tanks line the backs of barbed wire fences. Staircases spiral up the tanks while

black goop drips down them. Pipes pass under the road to a parking lot where tanker trucks pull in to fill up. As Shell, a multinational corporation, profits off their fossil fuel distribution in the Port of Providence, they place the environmental burden of their business on the local community. Shell dominates space near the waterfront and presents an existential threat via global warming, all without creating significant revenue to provide for services in the city.

“We’re sitting on a volcano right now,” said Kestin. He told the Indy that the Shell Terminal is incredibly vulnerable to storm surges and rising waters because of how close it is to the coast. The growing threat of weather events caused by global warming heightens these risks. Kestin drew parallels between a possible Shell Terminal disaster and the oil spills in 2017 in Houston during Hurricane Harvey, when over 22,000 gallons of oil were washed into the Gulf of Mexico. That same year, the Conservation Law Foundation, a New England-based environmental advocacy group, filed a lawsuit against Shell contending that the company hadn’t done enough to protect their facility against rising waters, endangering the local Providence coastline. This past September, the case moved forward into the ‘discovery’ phase in Rhode Island Federal District Court, meaning Shell will have to answer whether or not they believe global warming is a threat to their facility.

Near the end of Allens is the National Grid facility. Here, the company is building their $180 million liquified natural gas plant, subsidized by taxpayer dollars. The site is right up against the water. It’s to fight against projects like these that Huertas is working with the government to shape the Rhode Island climate justice policy of the future.

“Now that we’re actually in the muck, I feel gross about it,” Huertas told the Indy about advocating for change from within state agencies. “Why do I—why do we, the community, have to pull at their heartstrings to have them see our humanity?” If working within existing structures doesn’t work, Huertas and Kestin are optimistic that change can come through legislation passed at the State House. Kestin told the Indy that states have incredible power to get rid of environmental polluters, either through claiming eminent domain— government seizure of private property for public use— or by passing more stringent environmental laws that would put polluters out of business.

If the General Assembly were to increase taxes for the highest one percent of income earners in Rhode Island, funds might also exist for remediation projects in Green Justice Zones. To make those policy changes happen, Monica and Kestin are working in collaboration with progressive groups across Rhode Island, such as the Rhode Island Political Cooperative and the Sunrise Movement, to try and build electoral political power up at the State House. Huertas and Kestin are also working with Renew New England, a region-wide coalition fighting for racial justice, economic equity, and bold climate action. Renew is writing policy that could be introduced in the Rhode Island General Assembly as early as the next legislative session.

If the political stars align, progressive community organizing and electoral power might collide in Rhode Island, bringing a sea of change to environmental policy across the state. With a number of progressives winning in Democratic primaries and general elections in fall 2020, the 2021 legislative session could see serious attempts to implement climate justice reform. “This is what democracy with a little ‘d’ looks like,” said Huertas. “In real democracy, every person is counted, every person has a vote, even from the most marginalized areas of the city… this is something that’s really changing. I feel it.”

At the very tip of Fields Point, miles away from India Point Park, is another sliver of green. Save the Bay—an advocacy organization with a mission to “protect and improve Narragansett Bay”—has an educational center and office here, only a few hundred feet from the industrialized waterfront. They’ve remediated this portion of the coastline with a public walking trail and pier, providing for Bay access, and most importantly, providing a window into what a future Providence waterfront could look like.

This portion of the coast feels worlds away from the hustle and bustle of the working waterfront. On the walking trail, fresh Bay winds rustle the tall grass, and birds chirp overhead, casting shadows on the sky. It’s miraculous—there’s no highway noise—allowing one to hear the sound of the sea lapping on the shore rocks and the conversation of a friend. There are benches to sit on and binoculars to peer through. It’s a good place to enjoy the beauty of Narragansett Bay.

Walking down towards the water, carefully navigating the slippery black rocks covered with the detritus of the last high tide, it’s hard not to think of India Point Park and the miles of intervening industrial waterfront to the north. What would it look like for India Point Park and Save the Bay to meet, for those two seeds of green to come together and fulfill the promise made by India Point’s original architect? The coast could be made a green space again, giving all Providence residents a chance to access our state’s most valuable natural resource: the Bay.

I walked down to the water and sat on a rock with a friend. After driving through miles of industrial hell, it was shocking to find such a beautiful place so close by. The sea calmed me. In a racing world, it’s a blessing to have spaces that are quiet, clean, and green.

Just offshore, a tugboat pushed an oil barge further up the Providence River, towards the fossil fuel tanks we had just passed. I felt the shore shudder beneath me. It knew, like my friend and I knew, that time is running out. As waters rise, where we sat will soon fall beneath the waves. Our only option is to act—now.

A duck bobbed in the water to my right, its yellow beak brightening the gray Bay waters.

PEDER SCHAEFER B‘22 loves Narragansett Bay.