Initiative Over Permission: Environmental Justice from New Orleans to Harlem

The old saying of “it's better to beg forgiveness, rather than ask permission” comes to mind when hearing from community activists who embark on environmental justice projects in Louisiana and New York City. In February, the Center for Science and Society (co-sponsored by the Center for Sustainable Urban Development and the Environmental and Climate Justice Project) hosted Tricia “Blyss” Wallace, Sage Michael, and Reggie Ford from the Lincoln Beach Restoration Project in New Orleans, along with Cameron Clarke, Columbia University medical student and NY HEAT campaign coordinator at WE ACT For Environmental Justice in Harlem, to speak about this revelation in action. Moderated by Hadeel Assali, the discussion emphasized the magnitude of community-driven power in the face of systemic injustice. 

Following the instatement of Southern Jim Crow laws, Lincoln Beach was created as a segregated beach for Black residents in New Orleans, Louisiana during the 1930s. In 1964, however, the end of segregation left the once-adored getaway closed, forgotten, and abandoned. The land’s neglect ended in 2020 when Sage and Blyss rediscovered the beach while searching for outdoor spaces during the COVID-19 pandemic and decided to take restorative action. Their first observation: their ability to breathe fresh, clean air.

“When we first started this and I got out there, like many, I was amazed that this space existed in New Orleans because we hadn’t talked about it in our lifetimes,” says Blyss. “You heard stories from your parents or grandparents or neighbors, but it was almost like a myth. Like a hidden spot. There are still people who don't know.” 

Over the next few months, Sage and Blyss started a nonprofit, New Orleans for Lincoln Beach, a Facebook page inviting locals to join their clean-up efforts, and filled over 500 garbage bags through their initial Sunday “Clean up and Chill” invitations. Unfortunately, threats of city trespassing charges (under a declaration that the land was “unsafe” to occupy) prevented Blyss and Sage from continuing to advertise public cleanups. However, support for the initiative continued to grow. Seeing Sage on the local news inspired Reggie to locate the beach – a place he remembers learning about (but never visited) as a child.

While Reggie worked as a freelance artist on Sundays when cleanups typically occurred, he decided to dedicate six days a week to beach restoration. Three months into his now four-year commitment, Reggie finally met Sage on the seven-acre property. Since then, Reggie has worked over 1,350 days straight on the beach, leaving his full-time job and spending over $40,000 of his own money to get the work done. Together, Sage and Reggie filled over 2,000 garbage bags before moving to solve the land’s biggest issue: the tunnel.

Serving as Lincoln Beach’s only entrance, the tunnel was constructed by the city in the 1950s to prevent residents from crossing a levee and railroad tracks to reach the urban oasis. However, since New Orleans sits below sea level, the tunnel (which sat seven feet below ground) was completely full of water – preventing anyone from using it as a beach entrance. After calculating its measurements, Reggie rented pumps and a construction skid to remove the 80,000 gallons of water and 2,000 pounds of debris inside. Afterwards, the duo cleared three acres of invasive trees to restore the forest and sight line for safety. “It would take me five days to cut all the grass with a push lawnmower,” says Reggie. 

While Reggie and Sage ensured the property was clean and safe, Bylss served as President of the Lincoln Beach Community Board. After hosting a series of listening sessions for residents to vocalize their requests, Blyss led the development of a Community Vision Report to guide the city’s plans for reopening the beach (a list of all the organization's public reports, surveys, and presentations can be found on their website). Meanwhile, Sage and Reggie also lobbied city and state representatives for public support and government budget allocations, eventually securing over 24 million dollars in funds. Their message: not supporting New Orleans for Lincoln Beach could jeopardize an official’s chance of reelection. 

Meanwhile, over 1,300 miles northeast in Harlem, another organization also got its start fighting for clean public spaces. WE ACT for Environmental Justice was founded by Peggy Shepard in 1988 following the installation of a sewage treatment plant on Harlem’s westside. Located in Harlem to appease more affluent Upper West Side residents, the plant is just one example of how environmental hazards are often deliberately concentrated in low-income neighborhoods predominantly home to people of color in New York City and across the country. WE ACT works to combat the impacts of these decisions and prevent more from being made. After describing his duties at WE ACT, Cameron highlights that the legislative work both groups conduct usually involves “asking” elected officials to “allow” for public action, which honors community priorities.  

“We do a lot of work under the presumption that these institutions are the ones with power,” Cameron reflects. “In reality, these institutions are relying on us to neglect the power we already hold in order to ask them for permission to do things that they know we don’t need their permission to do. I think that asking for permission, […] is overrated.” 

While asking for government support and resources is often a necessary common practice in environmental justice advocacy, it is rarely what actually initiates local change. Both WE ACT and the Lincoln Beach Restoration Project exemplify the power of collective action. In closing, Sage emphasizes the greater importance motivating their shared work. “This is something for our elders who were discriminated against,” he says, “This is for the youth that are going through so much trauma right now [because] they [government] don't want to educate, they want to incarcerate. This is for the future. This is for our families. This is to have a safe place for everyone.” 

As shown here, the best form of protest may simply be to do what you can with what you have. Coupled with personal inspiration, intergenerational knowledge, and community power, it is often more than enough.