What does clean water have to do with environmental racism?
The federal government hasn’t done enough to make sure First Nations communities have access to drinking water.
Hey there, and welcome to the 21st issue of The Supplement, a newsletter that fills in the gaps of your other news intake. This is Sierra, one-third of the Supplement team!
Each week, we pick a question submitted by you, our readers. If you’d like to submit a question for a future week — it can seriously be about anything — then email us at thesupplementnewsletter@gmail.com. Befriend us on Instagram, and on Twitter. We don’t bite!
This week, we’re tackling this question: What does clean water have to do with environmental racism?
TL;DR: Environmental racism is a form of systemic racism, in which communities of colour are disproportionately affected by pollutants in their environment. In Canada, a lack of access to clean water — particularly for Indigenous communities — is amongst its most common examples. And because of the coronavirus pandemic, the impacts are harsher and the pressure for clean water is heavier than ever.
The term “environmental racism” is relatively new, but the impacts long outlive the terminology.
According to the World Economic Forum, “In practice, environmental racism can take many forms, from workplaces with unsound health regulations to the siting of coal-fired power stations close to predominantly non-white communities.”
Fact: The term was actually coined by Black civil rights leader Benjamin Chavis from the United States.
In Canada, access to clean drinking water is a common form of environmental racism, an issue concentrated in First Nation communities.
We were reminded of this once again last week when Karen Hogan, the federal Auditor General, confirmed what many Indigenous peoples have been saying for years: the federal government hasn’t done enough to make sure First Nations communities have access to drinking water.
You can check out a map of all the advisories across the country and how long they’ve been active with this chart from The Globe and Mail.
Ecojustice, Canada’s largest environmental law charity, says it is these same communities who are also more likely to feel the impacts of climate change — and sooner — than predominantly white communities.
“The legacy of colonization has been passed down along with the legacy of pollution,” Beze Gray, an Anishnaabe land/water protector from Aamjiwnaang First Nation, told Ecojustice. “The pollutants that my grandfather was exposed to have passed down, through the bloodstream, to me.”
All of this is part of the toxic pattern that contributes to environmental racism, another example of systemic racism. This means it’s engraved in our institutions and thus needs institutional change.
There are some people who are trying to make that institutional change happen.
Bill C-230, also known as the National Strategy to Redress Environmental Racism Act, was introduced as a private member’s bill by Nova Scotia MP Lenore Zann last year. It is now headed to the House of Commons.
I wrote about the bill last summer. I also interviewed one of the women involved in making the bill: Dr. Ingrid Waldron, author of There’s Something In The Water: Environmental Racism in Indigenous and Black Communities (which is also now a documentary on Netflix hosted by Elliot Page, I would highly recommend).
So maybe the higher powers are finally starting to recognize this something to be acknowledged.
But then there’s also COVID-19.
Ottawa was supposed to provide clean water to all by March 2021, but Indigenous Services Canada already knew last year they would miss their promised deadline because of the pandemic.
A Globe analysis shows that Neskantaga, which is about 450 km north of Thunder Bay, Ont., has been on long-term water advisories for more than 20 years, but has also been twice evacuated because of the water crisis. They declared a state of emergency with six per cent, or 12 of the 217 members living off-reserve, testing positive for the virus.
They aren’t alone. Shamattawa First Nation, located in Northern Manitoba, is also one of a dozen other communities to deal with COVID outbreaks while surviving without clean drinking water.
“Clean water is needed not only for drinking, but for washing hands, brushing teeth, doing dishes and cooking. That’s simple sanitation. Many First Nations communities do not have access to simple sanitation,” said Autumn Peltier, a teenage water-rights activist from Wiikwemkoong Unceded Territory on Manitoulin Island.
“Because of COVID-19, it’s more critical now than ever. This is probably the time the government needs to be acting on this even more effectively.”
Here’s someone to follow:
Check out The Globe and Mail’s Willow Fiddler. She is an Oji-Cree Anishinaabe from Sandy Lake First Nation and you might remember her from her work with Aboriginal Peoples Television Network National News. She’s now covering northern Ontario and Manitoba for The Globe bringing her passion to write stories about Indigenous people and communities, particularly in the North.
Here’s a story to check out:
I’m kicking it to the students post-NASH conference and going to recommend you read my alma-mater's latest print edition. Inside there is a great op-ed about the school of journalism and words from graduating students reflecting on their final year in lockdown. Check out The Eyeopener’s feature of the week as well, about how Ryerson students are relearning their mother tongues.
