Activist Wawa Gatheru on Championing Black Women as Climate Leaders This Earth Day—And Beyond

Earlier this year, we saw one of the greatest environmental wins of the decade—and Black women were its unsung heroes. President Biden paused all new expansions of dangerous gas export hubs in the U.S., which experts have called carbon bombs. There’s been fanfare and criticism around the decision, but few have acknowledged how Black women made it possible through community organizing and generational grit. The job won’t be done until there is a permanent halt on new expansions of dirty gas. But to get there, we have to turn toward the women who are leading on climate progress around the country.

As a Black girl who grew up in the climate movement, I’ve always been perplexed by the paradox of representation in this space. While people of color are disproportionately impacted by the climate crisis, we are routinely sidelined and boxed as ‘victims’ rather than the leaders we are. This is particularly true for Black women.

Women are particularly at risk to climate impacts because enforced gender inequality makes us more susceptible to escalating environmental harms. Black girls, women, and gender-expansive people in particular, bear an even heavier burden because of the historic and continuing impacts of colonialism, racism, and inequality. And that’s why I believe these circumstances uniquely position Black women as indispensable leaders in the climate movement.

A few years ago, I came across a term that encompassed what I have always known to be true. Coined by Dr. Melanie Harris, eco-womanism is a theological approach to environmental justice that focuses on the viewpoints of Black women across the diaspora. An eco-womanist approach to climate solutions is happening in the underbelly of climate injustice in the US, the Gulf South.

I have been honored to learn from and be inspired by the Black women leading on climate in the Gulf South: leaders like Sharon Lavigne of Rise St. James, Dr. Beverly Wright of the Deep South Center for Environmental Justice, Roishetta Ozane of The Vessel Project of Louisiana, and Dr. Joy and Jo Banner of The Descendants Project. I’ve heard firsthand how they launched educational campaigns, organized marches, rallies, and petitions, commissioned research, joined lawsuits, and challenged everyone from local lawmakers to the EPA—all to protect their communities. Step by step, they have fought polluters in an 85-mile stretch from New Orleans to Baton Rouge that’s home to more than 200 fossil fuel and petrochemical operations, earning the name ‘Cancer Alley.’