There are numerous reasons for this. Perhaps, like me, many people of color grew up hearing or believing that “environmentalists care more about penguins than they do black people.” Or perhaps, as my brother-in-Spirit, Van Jones, has so eloquently articulated, the “green movement” has traditionally not put much effort into enrolling or advocating on behalf of people of color, the uneducated masses, and those who cannot afford to shop at Whole Foods. And for this reason, it has yet to reach a tipping point within the mainstream population.
The same is true for all movements designed to benefit just a singular group of people: They fail to speak to and for everyone. Personally, I never felt included or inspired by the green movement. I always felt like I had to choose between caring about the fate of “my people” and caring about the fate of “the planet.” Now there’s separation consciousness at its finest.
And then I met my husband, Michael. He was the perfect mate: tall, dark and handsome with an athletic build, a brilliant personality, and a sharp mind. And best of all, he shared my values. But he was white, from San Francisco, and … scariest of all … a passionate environmentalist.
Not soon after our wedding, he encouraged me to exchange my toxic Tide detergent for eco-friendly Seventh Generation. “Why?” I asked, “Because each cup of chemical-laden detergent you use kills one cubic foot of phytoplankton” he would answer. But why should I, a sister who prided herself on having the freshest smelling clothes on the block, care about a marine organism I couldn’t even see? Because, he said “the phytoplankton in the ocean produce at least 50 percent of the world’s oxygen and remove carbon dioxide from the atmosphere.” Wow, impressive. Changing my laundry detergent could minimize global warming! I was starting to believe. As an African-American with a life-long passion for justice, caring about planetary justice seemed like the right thing to do—and best of all, it was an excuse to go shopping!
After that came other green cleaning products, organic food, toxin-free skin care, vegetarianism, carbon-offset credits, CFL light bulbs, sustainable clothing, eco-vacations, saving endangered species, lots of Dave Matthews, and of course, treehugging. My new life as an African-American treehugger meant I got to choose from the best, or worst, of both worlds: Do I eat fried chicken or fried tofu? Listen to Jay-Z or Bono? Become a member of the NAACP or the Sierra Club? Jesse Jackson, or Al Gore?
