Two days after the election, I left on a research trip to Mississippi and Louisiana. I joined four others from my church in Yarmouth, Maine. Our purpose was to witness and learn about the struggle for civil and environmental rights in a region known as “Cancer Alley.”
This 85-mile stretch of the Mississippi — between Baton Rouge and New Orleans — is home to 150 petrochemical plants, all along the river. It is also home to many working-class people, a majority of them Black.
The first thing you notice are the huge refineries. Tall smokestacks spew toxic chemicals and methane flares light up the sky. The scale of industrialization is hard to imagine — there are miles and miles of factories and chemical plants.
Sandwiched between them are small communities, many settled after the Civil War. In many places the only thing separating industrial complexes from homes, schools and churches is a seven-foot chain link fence. Residents face a cancer risk 50 times higher than the average American — hence the name “Cancer Alley.”
Our trip wasn’t to focus on environmental racism, or indifferent corporations (although these are driving the pollution). We were there to support the grassroots organizers, who are on the frontlines of the struggle to address environmental racism and make their communities safe from toxic chemicals.
The power of organizing
Back in 2018 a small group of friends in the tiny town of Welcome, Louisiana gathered in a garage. Sharon Lavigne, a retired special ed teacher, called the meeting. They came together to discuss toxic emissions in their neighborhood and what they might do about it.
No one in the group had organizing experience. Nor did they have graduate degrees, connections with authorities or funding for a campaign. What they did have was faith in themselves and a strong conviction that they deserved clean air, clean water and good health.
The group also knew that industrial giant Formosa Plastics had a permit to build four new plastics plants in a sugar cane field adjacent to their homes. While everyone in the group had connected the foul smelling air with the high cancer rate in their community, it was the Formosa permit that propelled them to action.
The group organized protests. A handful of people marched and held signs at the Formosa site. The media picked up the story. Pretty soon Lavigne and her friends launched a new nonprofit called RISE St. James.
On behalf of RISE, Earthjustice launched a court case against the state of Louisiana for issuing the Formosa permits. Bloomberg’s Beyond Petrochemicals, the Years Project and several other organizations provided funding and media visibility.
Within a few years, RISE St. James was on it’s feet with a mission, a website and a small staff.
There is a powerful lesson here: When people in frontline communities step forward and speak from the heart, doors open.
A history of success
The Louisiana Bucket Brigade is a nonprofit that’s been working to clean up Cancer Alley and prevent new plants from being built there since 2002. Their expertise in advocacy, direct action and organizing have led to many successes over the years.
A key to their success has been partnerships with local grassroots groups. They provide training, strategic planning and technical assistance. They open doors to funders and support local leaders as they get their groups organized. By partnering with local groups, the Bucket Brigade has greatly leveraged its impact.
The Bucket Brigade and its partners have engaged in many successful campaigns. These include stopping Formosa Plastics, Wanhua Plastics, and South Louisiana Methanol from building new plants in Cancer Alley. In early December, the federal government announced a halt in construction of the Venture Global gas terminal and pipeline — another success for the Bucket Brigade .
In 2019, the Bucket Brigade connected RISE St. James with Earthjustice, an organization that brings lawsuits on behalf of groups suffering from pollution and government discrimination. As a result of Earthjustice’s legal action, a Louisiana circuit judge demanded that the Formosa air permits be withdrawn.
The Bucket Brigade continued to support the anti-Formosa campaign by building a coalition of fishermen, parish council members and local restaurants that resulted in resolutions against Formosa in the cities of New Orleans and Westwego. They also collected 40,000 written public comments demanding that the Army Corps rescind its Formosa permit.
Around the same time, EPA Secretary Michael Regan took a keen interest in Cancer Alley. After visiting the area, Regan directed EPA staff to investigate a Cancer Alley complaint. The complaint claimed the state of Louisiana violated the Civil Rights Act when it issued permits for two petrochemical plants in Black communities.
The investigation was based on a principle of civil rights law called “disparate impact.” This means that federal agencies must protect minority communities from being harmed more than others, whether intentionally or not.
By the beginning of 2024, things were looking up for the residents of Cancer Alley. Grassroots groups were organized. They had funding, staff and media presence. RISE founder Sharon Lavigne had been recognized nationally with the prestigious Goldman Environmental Prize. Several industrial projects had been successfully stopped, and others forced to clean up operations. The civil rights case looked promising.
Recent setbacks
As is often the case, Formosa fought back, appealing and winning its permit case in a higher court. The permit allows Formosa to release over 800 tons of toxic chemicals and 13.6 million tons of greenhouse gases each year. Cancer Alley organizers are pushing for the Louisiana Supreme Court to review the case. They are hopeful that the clock will run out on the project, as it winds through the legal system.
Meanwhile, the civil rights case is dead. The state of Louisiana sued the EPA for its investigation of the Cancer Alley civil rights complaint. Federal Judge James Cain of the Western District of Louisiana found
that the EPA had overstepped its powers. He ruled that the Civil Rights Act only protects people from intentional harm, and that race cannot be considered in permitting chemical plants.
As a result, the EPA backed off the case, and the residents of Cancer Alley lost. The people now have less protection from environmental racism than before.
What’s more, with a new Trump administration set to take over next month The attention and support of the EPA in Cancer Alley will almost certainly end. It may also mean that more oil, gas and plastics refineries and terminals will be permitted and built.
During the first Trump administration, an EPA staff report citing toxic levels of ethylene oxide emissions in Cancer Alley was withdrawn and hidden from the public. We are likely to see more of this behavior in his second term.
Where do they go from here?
In response to the election, Bucket Brigade Executive Director Anne Rolfes said, “Our resolve is stronger than ever.” They are not defeated.
But I had to ask how Cancer Alley organizers would continue their effort going forward.
Corporate irresponsibility and complicit local and state governments are the root of Cancer Alley’s problems. Historically, the best way to change corporate behavior is to do something that threatens their bottom line. Boycotts, strikes and union organizing are effective tools.
But local leaders told me union organizing and strikes aren’t viable in Cancer Alley. For one thing, most of the workers in the refineries and chemical plants aren’t local. They are engineers and chemists recruited commuting from outside the community. The locals who do work in the plants have lower paying jobs, and can’t afford to miss a day of work.
Boycotts aren’t viable either. Most of the plants make commodity products — plastics, fertilizers, neoprene, chemicals, oil and gas. These companies are mostly unknown to consumers, taking boycotts and consumer protests off the table.
Public health would seem like an obvious framing of the problem. High cancer and COVID death rates in the area are well documented. The link between specific chemicals and specific cancers is proven.
In 2023, Johns Hopkins University scientists outfitted two vans with state-of-the-art air quality monitoring equipment. They measured air quality in Cancer Alley neighborhoods, something that hadn’t been done before. They found carcinogen levels nine times higher than what Louisiana state data showed — and a thousand times higher than what is considered safe.
But despite this data, public health arguments have not gotten traction with decision makers. In fact, the opposite has occurred. Immediately after the Johns Hopkins air quality study was released, the Louisiana legislature passed a law disallowing private data in enforcement and regulatory actions.
In response, the organizers have turned to other strategies. A burial ground for enslaved people was discovered on the land owned by Formosa Plastics. Further research turned up the names of the enslaved people who were buried there, without headstones or any known memorial services held.
An action is now being planned to celebrate their lives with a proper ceremony and markers for their graves. This will gain media attention and make it more difficult to site a plastics plant there.
Another strategy is to challenge local zoning. The St. James Parish Council (similar to a county government) changed zoning from “Residential” to “Residential/Future Industrial” without public input. This is how the state was able to issue the Formosa permits.
Inclusive Louisiana and other local groups are suing the parish for making the zoning changes. They hope to win and bring back residential zoning.
Public education is an important part of the current strategy, too. When the plants and refineries moved in, locals did not know that high levels of toxic emissions would be the result.
The public is learning more about this everyday. RISE St. James has a section on their website called “Chemical of the Month” where they provide accessible and understandable information on toxic chemicals. Our group visited the Whitney Plantation, a local museum focused on the history of racism in the area, from slavery to industrial pollution. Webinars and reports on the toxic pollution in Cancer Alley are presented regularly.
Rallies and demonstrations are ongoing too, letting the media and decision makers know that residents understand and oppose policies that harm them. A recent rally in the state capitol of Baton Rouge drew people from 15 river parishes and 17 grassroots groups.
The phrase “environmental justice” was coined in the 1980s. It resulted from the first study to document environmental racism, showing that landfills across the country were almost always sited in Black communities.
The 2019 “Green New Deal” bill in Congress broadened public awareness of environmental racism. It’s now common knowledge that toxic pollution occurs primarily in low income and Black neighborhoods. This understanding will continue to gain traction, despite the political winds.
Lastly, it’s important to recognize that all of us are complicit in the damage caused by irresponsible capitalism and the governments that allow it. Each time we use a plastic bag, fill our gas tank, or spread chemicals on our lawns, someone is breathing toxic emissions from manufacturing these products.
Local organizers in Cancer Alley are bravely raising the flag for environmental justice. Their work will create a healthier environment for all of us. They deserve our continuing support.
To join the movement to unite against Big Oil’s pollution, sign the petition to support Cancer Alley Rises Up and EarthJustice’s fight.
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