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St. James Parish Rising: Documenting a Legacy of Environmental Racism in Louisiana

STORYCENTER Blog

We are pleased to present posts by StoryCenter staff, storytellers, colleagues from partnering organizations, and thought leaders in Storywork and related fields.

St. James Parish Rising: Documenting a Legacy of Environmental Racism in Louisiana

Amy Hill

By Sharon Lavigne

Editor’s Note: In recognition of February as African American History Month, we share this piece by Sharon Lavigne, one of the courageous Women of Cancer Alley storytellers we supported at a digital storytelling workshop held in Louisiana in the fall of 2018. Sharon’s community organizing work with RISE St. James is challenging the environmental destruction that continues to plague historically black communities located along the Mississippi River.

I am a life-long resident of St. James Parish, Louisiana, the daughter of a civil rights leader from the 5th District, in the west side of St. James. Our community is predominantly African American. When I was a little girl, we lived off the land. Before industry took over the parish, we had clean air and productive land. My parents had gardens, cattle, pigs, and chickens­­ that was our food. My grandfather caught fish and shrimp in the Mississippi River. Our fig and pecan trees kept us well-fed and even provided enough for us to sell. It was peaceful and quiet.

Now the land and everything that grows on it is poison. In the past, we were seldom sick. Now, we are almost always sick. I moved into my current house in 1987, the same year that national reporters were investigating elevated cancer rates of those born in the area, and coined the term “Cancer Alley,” now used regularly to describe the 85-mile stretch of the Mississippi River between Baton Rouge and New Orleans. But despite decades of resistance to dangerous petrochemical pollution, facilities continue to be built. We are boxed in from all sides by plants, tank farms, and noisy railroad tracks. We live in constant fear that settlement ponds containing wastewater will leak; that tanks holding toxic chemicals will explode. This unwanted intrusion is not of the people, by the people, and for the people; it is of, by, and for those who see us as nothing, not only in the eyes of history, but in the eyes of today.

Our local parish government would have us believe that the millions of dollars these rogue industries reap will benefit our communities. Instead, we see pipelines across the highway, endless rows of tanks lining Highway 18 and spread out all over the place, a massive overpass near the old St. James High School (I think you can guess why the school was moved), a large sulfur mound at the Mosaic fertilizer company, settlement ponds for containing wastewater, and never-ending construction projects along the levee system. The chemical plants dump into the river—our drinking water. It is hardly potable and irritates the skin quite often.

Then there’s the noise, obvious air pollution, and terrible odors. Some of the plants release emissions on rainy and overcast days, and at night, after midnight. The Louisiana State Department of Environmental Quality and the Federal Environmental Protection Agency have been asked to inspect our area, but they have ignored the cries of our people. When we call the Department of Environmental Quality about a terrible smell in the air, they come out three days later and tell us they don’t smell anything. Year after year, our Louisiana legislators have rejected demands for air monitors at industrial sites with a history of air permit violations. We have petitioned, but our parish officials seem always to come down on the side of industry. Permits are still being granted, such that our community will remain in the eye of this man-made storm.

I was born in St. James Parish when Jim Crow still ruled. Racist laws made sure that many black Louisianans were unable to participate in democracy. It has been more than 50 years since the passage of the Voting Rights Act and the Civil Rights Act, but those of us in the 5th District were not informed when, in 2014, the northern part of the district was re-zoned for industrial use. While white residents sold their properties and moved away, black residents did not receive buy-out offers. We were left inhaling the toxic air produced by the invading petrochemical plants. And today the proposed Formosa Plastics plant shows that democracy has still not come fully to our parish. If my community had a say, Louisiana would not be spending $1.5 billion to attract this foreign polluter. If my community had a say, we would not allow Formosa to bulldoze three and a fifth square miles of wetlands and sugar cane fields. But nobody ever asked us.

Formosa Plastics was mandated to consider five sites when it applied for its wetland permits. Instead, they submitted only three proposed sites, all in majority black neighborhoods. From the moment I heard about the project, I was told that it was a done deal. Formosa has a documented history of pollution in Baton Rouge, in the Texas community of Port Lavaca, and overseas in Taiwan and Vietnam. At several parish-level hearings, every local resident who testified spoke out against the plant. People described how their children have trouble breathing, how they have to deal with skin rashes, nose bleeds, respiratory ailments, and cancer. They pleaded with the council, not to approve a permit for yet another humungous, toxic plant to be built in St. James. The plant’s supporters were all executives and wealthy businessmen who live safely outside the local area. And guess what? The parish voted to approve the project. These are the people who should be representing us and making sure our quality of life improves. They are doing the opposite.

One day last summer, I was sitting on my porch, looking out at the land around me. I was so sad, because I felt like a part of my life was being taken from me, like my home was being destroyed. That’s when I decided to form an organization and call it “RISE St. James.” Our members are rising to defend our land, our community. So much has been taken from us already, it just has to stop. I don’t even want to imagine what the community will look like 20 years from now if the petrochemical industry continues to invade. We are standing up together to defend our home. St. James is rising. We are actively fighting the Formosa plant and other forms of ongoing environmental exploitation. We will save the environment, and we will save our community.

To date, Formosa has received the go-ahead from local government but does not yet have its permits from the state (which, sadly, are forthcoming given the state's collusion with industry). The organizing continues.

Read more about the issues facing St. James and other communities in Cancer Alley:

Cancer Alley: Big Industry, Big Problems (MSNBC)

Activists want to close St. James plant where huge pile holding hazardous water could collapse (The Advocate, Feb. 6, 2019)

Activist fighting Formosa complex wants more time and documents before St. James meeting (The Advocate, Dec. 18, 2018)