On May 13, the evening before massive non-violent direct actions took place in Albany, NY, I was in a church, getting briefed on what to expect the next day in terms of weather, timing, marching routes and, of course, legal concerns. I was joining the segment of the march taking a detour to the Ezra Prentice Homes in Albany's South End while the majority of the protestors marched straight to the railways by the Port of Albany.
It was an easy decision to make, but so was (perhaps) my more surprising decision to fill out a jail support intake form and write the legal support team's phone number on the back of my hand in preparation for risking arrest the following day. It wasn't the more glamorous of the Break Free from Fossil Fuels actions. But to me, it was the most important, because it was the chance for the residents at Ezra Prentice and in the neighborhood to have a voice of their own and ask for the support they need.
All too frequently these actions happen the same way. Buses full of mostly white liberals convene to carry banners and signs and demonstrate the demand for global climate justice--and entire communities directly affected by industrial development of fossil fuels are left at home, frequently just because they could not afford the trip (costs including transportation, time off from work, sometimes a babysitter) or even because they simply weren't invited and didn't have enough information or contacts to go.
This is an issue near and dear to me personally--I am also a "frontline" citizen, and grew up affected by the dangerous shale gas "fracking" operations and infrastructure, like pipelines and compressor stations, linked to alarming toxicity in my family's water and the air my community breathes, as well as the constant risk of a massive explosion too close to the homes of families nearby.
I knew how important it was that the residents of Ezra Prentice and around the South End had a voice in this action and weren't left out. We marched to them, and heard from community spokespeople, standing beside a playground where the oil train tracks are only separated from children at play by a wire fence.
Concerns have been raised in recent years about air contamination from the constant presence of oil trains and tanker trucks in the majority-minority neighborhood, leading to members of the crowd carrying a banner that said "This Is Environmental Racism" on Saturday's march. The residents have been fighting for years for a voice in local decision-making, but this was an important opportunity for us to offer solidarity and for them share their stories and unique concerns, as well as making requests for support (such as fighting a proposed crude oil heating facility) to a new and bigger audience.
Just as risky fossil fuel industries prey on the poor in my home state, it can hardly be called a coincidence that the proximity to oil trains and daily parade of hundreds of tanker trucks is faced by disadvantaged families in Albany. "These people are the salt of the earth," said Common Council President Hon. Carolyn McLaughlin in front of the crowd on Saturday. "These are the people that make sure that their children are taken care of, that their elders are taken care of, and they deserve for policies to be in place to make sure that they are all taken care of."
Noting the absence of the trains in light of the large protests, she continued, "If you can re-route the trains today, why do we have to have them any day? I think that so often we have these discussions about people, around people, but don't include the people that are affected directly by bad decisions. A dollar value cannot be placed on anybody's life. That's what these trains are about. It's about the mighty dollar. If you think about the history of this housing development, it was about 'Let's move these poor people far away from the inner city but still in the city.' That's how they got here, and the tracks were here then. Shame on those decision makers 60 years ago."
McLaughlin addressed both visitors from out of town and her constituents at Ezra Prentice and along the tracks: "We're going to break free from this environmental racism. We're going to break free from the ones that think we don't matter. We all matter."
Local pastor McKinley Johnson spoke about the consequences of the decision to place the trains in his neighborhood to avoid the costs of keeping them at the port: "If there is a bomb blast because of oil, we would be burned up, dead, all because somebody wanted an extra dollar. I know that they take advantage of our area because they think it's collateral damage," he said, reminding me of when the harm done to my community by fracking was referred to as a "necessary sacrifice"--poor communities thrown into danger to give economic benefits to the already-wealthy.
"Do you think for one moment that if it were somewhere else, would they be doing that kind of thing? No. But they take advantage of our disadvantage. They take advantage of those that don't seem to have a voice."
Solidarity and support from everywhere is necessary for disadvantaged and high-risk communities like ours. While residents at Ezra Prentice and along the South End face a unique battle, it was important to me that I show that I am willing to give the support I ask for in my own neighborhood, even if that meant an arrest for standing in between the oil industry and the families who have suffered at its hands. We might be thrown aside as "collateral damage" or "necessary sacrifices," but we can still band together and amplify our shared concerns.