by: Courtney Remacle
https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=497168440320098
Like many young people of this generation, I’ve followed the Keystone XL pipeline protests, the Forward on Climate Rally, the Idle No More movement and many other of the defining protests and actions of this decade of environmentalism and social justice activism. However, most of it I followed from a distance. Sure, I’ve participated in protests, actions, and political campaigns here and there, kept up with the latest news, and supported causes and organizations through solidarity actions and financially, but I never really considered myself “on the front lines.” I’ve been lucky enough to grow up in middle class, predominately white areas, which are less likely to be affected by environmental degradation and exploitation.
All that changed a few years ago. Attending college in beautiful Ashland, WI, on the shores of Lake Superior, I found myself in the midst of an environmental justice movement with all of the drama that you see on TV or in the news articles-along with a lot more. Ashland is located near the Penokee Hills, which contain a taconite iron formation. Taconite is a low-grade iron ore used in manufacturing and industrial applications. Ashland is also located near the Bad River, Red Cliff, and Lac Courte Orielles Ojibwe Indian Reservations. The headwaters of the Bad River are located in the Penokee Hills, and the proposed mining in the area seriously threatens the water quality of the Bad River and Kakagon water sloughs, where traditional wild ricing takes place. The Bad River flows into Lake Superior, so the world’s largest body of fresh water is also threatened.
The mining struggle here in northern Wisconsin is complex, heartbreaking, and inspiring all at once. My intent is not to explain it all here, but I ask you to please educate yourself about it. The Penokee Hills Education Project is a good place to start. My intent is to reflect on what it’s like when your world shifts from a vague awareness of environmental degradation happening all around the world to an acute, constant awareness that your home, the place you love the most, is threatened. I’ve only lived in Ashland a short while and can’t imagine comparing my situation to those who have called this place home for generations, or even further to the Aanishinabe peoples, who have called this place home for thousands of years. But still, being the child of wayward and wandering parents and being a bit wayward and wandering myself, it’s really the only place I have to call home, so I’ll stake my tenuous claim to this land.
Being a part, albeit a small and inconsequential part, of an environmental struggle is not what one would imagine it to be. Mostly, I continue with my day-to-day life but with the painful awareness that attempting to live a day-to-day life here may become challenging, may start to make people sick, and be filled with far less beauty and trust and neighborliness should the Penokee Hills be crushed beneath the ruthless fist of Gogebic Taconite, profit, and global capitalism. One would think that trying to be involved in a struggle would mean endless dedication and time spent, giving up everything for the cause and never tiring. And for some people it does. But for a lot of us, it means making an effort to educate our friends and neighbors, attending meetings and rallies when we can, encouraging each other and offering more hugs than usual, and being ready at a moment’s notice to print of some flyers, answer phones or staff an office. It’s a lot less glamorous than I’ve been lead to believe, but I also never considered the dull ache that would settle into your chest when you wake up every day and wonder if this place will be the same in a year, 5 years, or 10 years from now…and if it will be different for the better or for the worse.
For all of you supporting a movement or movements from a distance, the best thing you can do is learn. Sure we could use your money, or your time, but having a network of wholehearted, knowledgeable supporters from all over is invaluable, tactically and emotionally. If I had known how meaningful it was to meet someone who was truly knowledgeable about the issue(s), I would’ve spent much more of my time in college reading in-depth about one or two things than signing as many online petitions as I could. I can’t convince you to care deeply about a small town on a big lake or my tiny, beautiful corner of the big world, but I hope you will start to care deeply about something. Because there are so many things out there to care deeply about.