Over the past few months, as the flaws in our society have become blindingly apparent, long overdue conversations have been happening every day. Just this week, I’ve discussed racism with my coworkers, family, physician, State Senator, an old friend from high school, and countless others. Some of these conversations have been difficult, but we all agree that Black and Brown Americans deserve to live in a society that offers them opportunities to build wealth and power.

Systemic racism doesn’t mean that everyone in the system is racist. It means that our systems are set up so that decision-making processes exclude and are inaccessible to many sets of people. Most often, those who are excluded and undervalued are those who don’t have an opportunity to speak up. Sometimes this means that they don’t have the opportunity to attend a meeting, but more often, it means that decisions are made within agencies by people who do not represent their interests and never even thought to include them. The problem feeds itself, perpetuating the injustice.

We’re all familiar with the examples of systemic racism within our justice system. Within the environmental sector, easy-to-point-to examples include the delayed clean-up of superfund sites, coal ash, and other harmful pollution. And it’s easy to remember when a major catastrophe like a storm or infrastructure failure (think Flint, Michigan) have affected Black and Brown people who are economically disadvantaged more than others.

These examples are egregious and cause public health and economic hardships that last for generations. But there are other, more subtle instances of systemic racism that can be equally catastrophic over time.

Let me give you an example. Butler Plantation sits on the west side of Highway 17, just south of the bridge to downtown Darien. While the house wasn’t his home, in Pierce Butler’s day, hundreds of enslaved Africans lived on the 2,300-acre property, digging rice fields and cultivating rice. Eventually, more than 400 of them were transported to Savannah and sold in the largest sale of enslaved people in American history.

Today, because of its historic and natural resource value to the state of Georgia, the property is protected and designated as a Heritage Preserve. The Georgia Department of Natural Resources (DNR) is responsible for the property, but descendants of the enslaved use the site regularly. Some have permission to lead tours; others spend time walking the property to feel connected to their ancestors, some of whom are buried on the site.

Unfortunately, the house on the property is in severe disrepair, because the DNR does not have funding to maintain it. A few years ago, DNR staff began to receive inquiries from private entities about the potential for them to use the house for private endeavors— including proposals to turn the structure into a bed and breakfast, brewery, or distillery.

Herein lies the problem.

As a solution, DNR staff—without consulting the community—asked the legislature to change the law that governs all Heritage Preserves. If passed, HB 906 would allow for the sale of up to 15 acres of these public properties to private entities. This change to the law was proposed in the absence of consideration for the people of Georgia, and specifically without input from the descendants of the enslaved Africans who lived on and are buried on Butler Plantation.

To be clear, I’m not suggesting that the DNR officials who talked to the developers are racist. But they—like most of us—are working within a system that excludes people. People of color, people living in poverty, people who don’t have a seat at the table and aren’t likely to be given one if we continue to do things the way they’ve always been done.

Because of COVID, the legislative session was suspended. Legislators came back into session last week and will meet until the end of the day Friday, June 26. If HB 906 passes, a private entity would be able to take the home on Butler Island, or any up to 15-acre chunk of any Heritage Preserve in all of Georgia and build a hotel, a golf course, a hunt club, a restaurant, a distillery, a private home—you name it. They’d be able to purchase something that belongs to the people of Georgia and privatize it. As a result, these historical properties would be lost to those who have the biggest stake in their history.

Thanks to our partners and members, legislators have received more than 20,000 comments from more than 2,000 citizens concerned about the impact HB 906 would have on our state’s most treasured sites, and it looks like the bill is dead for this year.

But the bottom line is this: for many people of color, years of inequitable resource allocation, dialogue, and inclusion have blocked safe access to natural and cultural resources. These include clean water, air, and soil, recreational opportunities, healthy fish, and other assets that many of us take for granted. It is the unintended consequences of systemic racism that have crippled disadvantaged people and will continue to cripple them if they are not acknowledged and prevented from happening in the future.

Systemic racism occurs on all levels, in every agency, and across all sectors. One Hundred Miles is committed to working to ensure that environmental agencies at the state and federal levels recognize the inequities that they perpetuate. And in the days, months, and years ahead, we’ll continue to advocate for more inclusive community practices that we hope will begin to correct decades of resulting injustice. I hope you’ll join us.

Megan

P.S.  Here is a wonderful piece written by OHM Board Member, Joanna Adams. I hope you enjoy.

I’ve been spending a lot of time in Atlanta lately. Being at the Capitol is funny. At the beginning of each session, my hopefulness and optimism overflow. But, we’re only in our third full week, and already my well is starting to run dry.

The legislative process is chaotic. Just like all of us, on January 1 of any given year, a legislator has high hopes for the upcoming year and sets aggressive goals. When a Senator or Representative talks to me in December, like me, he is excited about the prospects of another session. But as soon as his feet hit the marble floor a few weeks later, the overwhelming pace takes over. He is inundated with requests and information about a myriad of issues—topics on which he may be an expert or about which he may know nothing. Reality sets in regarding the magnitude of work that must be done in only 40 days and his original intentions are often set aside for more practical outcomes.

Forty days is not enough time to solve—or even make a dent in—our state’s very serious problems. And the short time period contributes to a flawed process, which makes serving in public office difficult. But, while we all can call to mind someone whose service seems more to be for him/herself rather than the voters, I strongly believe that most people run for office for the right reasons. It’s just that when you start getting overwhelmed by requests, complaints, ideas, and accusations from members of the public, it’s hard not to put up a wall.

This leads me to contemplate the concept of “leadership.”

Perhaps we assign too much responsibility to our elected “leaders.” Leadership is doing what is hard because it is right. Leaders are expected to pay attention to those whom they represent and prioritize their needs, and to go the extra mile to ensure the safety and well-being of their constituents. But aren’t we setting up for failure the few people in our communities who are elected if we expect them to be our only leaders?

It’s time for all of us to commit to solving community problems – through our own innovation, creativity, and commitment – rather than waiting for someone we elect to office to do so.

Throughout my seven years at OHM and my more than 20 years working in advocacy, I have observed that most leaders never run for office. They work within their communities to make a difference. They pick up trash, plant trees and pull weeds, protect sea turtle and shorebird nests, stuff envelopes, lick stamps, shuttle people to important meetings, and most importantly, they connect with their neighbors and inspire others to get involved. We need elected officials to serve, but we need these local leaders on the ground even more.

Leadership at any level isn’t easy. Sometimes it can feel lonely, and you have to make the choice to take action. That’s why on March 7, we will once again hold our Coastal Conservation in Action: Choosing to Lead conference on Jekyll Island. We design this conference to inspire citizen leaders of all ages, interests, and backgrounds so that participants can learn from and build relationships with others who share their own hopes and optimism.

Just as leadership isn’t one size fits all, this isn’t a conference for any one field or group of people. Our attendees are just as likely to be neighborhood volunteers or concerned citizens as they are professional advocates. We have writers and artists, students and educators, business leaders, volunteers, and everyone in between. Our only requirement? A passion for our coast and a willingness to make a difference.

I’m not exaggerating when I say it’s my favorite day of the year. This will be our fourth annual event, and once again, we’ve assembled a slate of talented workshop leaders from across the country to help you gain new skills and tools to put your ideas into action.

I hope to see you on March 7^th—bring a friend, or two!

See you soon,
Megan

A few weeks ago, I sat down to send you an optimistic note about how our coast dodged a few bullets this summer. I soon realized I wasn’t feeling positive after all, and couldn’t finish.

Even though Hurricane Dorian only skirted by us, it was hard to celebrate with more than 600 people still missing, hundreds dead, and the Bahamas decimated. Shortly thereafter, the Coast Guard began reporting “massive discharges” of oil into St. Simons Sound from the overturned Golden Ray cargo ship. And at the beginning of October, another pod of pilot whales beached on Georgia’s coast, this time on St. Catherines. But instead of only a few casualties (like the earlier stranding this summer on SSI), this pod lost at least 10 whales.

The angst that stopped me from finishing that earlier email to you is this: At this point, officials, community members, and decision makers on Georgia’s coast are only responding – and sometimes not all that well – to each individual crisis as it comes. That’s because it’s easier for us to assume that these incidents are isolated and unrelated. But we must realize that they are not.

Neither Dorian nor the Golden Ray caused the pilot whales to strand, but it is possible that human behavior stressed the whales to the extent that most of the pod was lost. This incident serves as a cruel reminder that the population of approximately 400 North Atlantic right whales lost six individuals in June alone. Ship strikes, entanglements, ocean noise, and plastic pollution are all results of human behavior that are pushing these gentle giants towards extinction within our lifetimes. Of those individuals that are left, many can be identified by visible scars from previous ship strikes. Unfortunately, instead of taking coordinated, active steps to improve mortality rates, those responsible fight regulations and cross their fingers when they are in right whale territory. Click here for more information.

Similarly, warmer oceans are causing hurricanes to become stronger. When it hit the Bahamas, Dorian was a Category 5 storm with winds of more than 180 mph. Compounding the damage, the people of the Bahamas were not prepared. While we don’t live on an isolated island in the Caribbean, it is clear to me that coastal Georgia’s built environment would have been equally decimated had we been the direct hit. Yet we live in denial, and our communities are not taking steps to prepare any better. In September, a planning firm hired by Glynn County released a diagnostic report, the preceding document to a revised zoning ordinance. Instead of overhauling the 60-year old ordinance, which was written before we knew about climate change, sea level rise, and the effects of poor planning on coastal communities, the county is only pursuing a few revisions. The report contains no mention of updating building codes, better storm preparation, or sea level rise. Click here for more information about storms and building codes in hurricane-prone areas.

As for the Golden Ray… the Port of Brunswick has been in operation since 1789 – that’s  230 years. President George Washington established our port to be one of the five main ports of entry to the United States. Today it is the second-busiest roll on/roll off port in the nation, bringing in more than 600,000 cars annually (2017). Yet, it appears that both the shipping company (Hyundai Glovis) and the Port of Brunswick inspector may have failed to ensure that the Golden Ray was trimmed properly before it left for Baltimore. When the ship tipped, there was no emergency response plan to deal with the removal of the ship or leaking oil. This left officials in the position of having to rely – during an active investigation – on a potentially negligent party (Hyundai Glovis), whose best interest is to protect itself and its shareholders instead of the well-being of the people, wildlife, and economy of the Golden Isles. No one knows how much oil contaminates our sound, but at least 10 miles of oiled shoreline have been documented. Fishing charters, kayak rentals, vacations to St. Simons, and other economic opportunities for Golden Isles businesses to capture tourism dollars eliminated while the weather is still warm have been canceled and otherwise unavailable to businesses and individuals who rely on them.

These events are often classified in the public eye as unintended consequences of human behavior. But we have to realize that, while we didn’t intend our behavior to cause catastrophic damage to habitat, wildlife, and communities, it has done so.

We must be better prepared to deal with the consequences of our actions. The first step is to acknowledge that we live in a new world – one that was not even imagined in 1789 when George Washington created the Port of Brunswick or in 1959 when Glynn County adopted its first and current zoning ordinance. It is easy to assume that OHM takes positions on projects because we don’t want anything to change. The reality is that we want everything to change.

At One Hundred Miles, we work every day to help people understand that the choice between economic development and environmental conservation is false. In fact, the two are intricately connected. Employers and employees will not relocate to a place that is struggling with its identity, has an uncertain vision for the future, and is in denial about the threats it currently faces. That’s because we all want to know that our water and air will be clean, the places we love will exist for our children and grandchildren, and that our local government has our best interests in mind when approving development plans.

It is time for our society to stop conquering and/or living apart from our environment and realize that we are part of a complicated system that we both influence and by which we are influenced.

Once we accept these realities, we can effect change quickly, because the most important decisions are made locally. The elected officials you see in the grocery store, at church, and when you drop the kids off at school are the people who seal our fate. They approve development plans, assign dollars for infrastructure improvements, and otherwise have the power to either prepare us or ignore the problems. One Hundred Miles is effective because we know these people and we help you know them. We communicate with them, but more importantly, we give you the opportunity to connect with them. And you do.

So, despite my earlier trepidation, I do have hope for the future. We can absolutely change our course by participating in the decisions that are being made. As we prepare for a future with sea level rise and increased threats to our wildlife and landscapes, we’re counting on you to pay attention to the decisions being made, communicate with decision-makers, and vote for people who will ensure a stable future.

Now is the time for change. And it starts with people who have a stake in the future – in other words, all of us. Thank you for your efforts and your commitment to saving our coast. We need you.

Megan