Indigenous communities have always been at the forefront of environmental justice

Contamination with lead, arsenic and other toxins in Tar Creek in northeastern Oklahoma has robbed the potential of many Quapaw Nation children. As a parent, I can only imagine the anguish and anger. As a longtime activist for civil and human rights and the environment, I deeply admire the resilience of the Quapaw and the many Indigenous communities with similar stories.

The Tar Creek Superfund site is the first site of its kind whose cleanup efforts are led by a Native tribe. It sits in what was once the Tri-State Mining District, which provided the lead and zinc for more than 75 percent of America’s bullets and shells used during World Wars I and II.

Although all mining activity was abandoned by the early 1970s, hundreds of mines and boreholes remained open. When water filled the holes, it brought toxic heavy metals to the surface. This contaminated the creek, killed wildlife, and sickened people who once viewed the creek as a water source and gathering place. In 1979, the stream turned bright orange from iron in acidic mine waters reaching the surface. This is a major sign of the environmental damage that has been done and continues to persist.

Mining operations also left piles of waste known as “cat,” containing lead and other toxic heavy metals. More than 16 tonnes of cat were left behind for every tonne of ore extracted. Before neighborhood residents realized the dangers posed by this cat, children were riding their bikes on the chat piles. He even ended up in their sandboxes.

As recently as the 1990s, tests by the Indian Health Service found elevated blood lead levels in 35 percent of the region’s Native American children. One study showed that area schoolchildren had blood lead levels 11 times the state average.

Rebecca Jim, who is Cherokee, came to work in the local school system in the Tar Creek area in 1978, the year before the creek turned orange. She says: “One of my students was fishing the day before. The next day, all the fish were dead. It was a shock to see him ruined.

Jim was spurred into action by the learning disabilities and other consequences of the lead poisoning she witnessed. His advocacy played a key role in the Environmental Protection Agency’s designation of Tar Creek as a Superfund site in 1983. Thirty years later, the Quapaw Nation itself would take the reins by partnering with the EPA to remediate the site.

“Best for the job”

Efforts overseen by Quapaw have removed more than 7 million tons of mining waste and rehabilitated more than 600 acres of land, according to Summer King of the Quapaw Nation Environmental Office. King said, “When there were plans to remediate the site, the Quapaw Nation requested to do the work. Because of the nation’s cultural and historical significance, they knew their own people were best for the job.

Tar Creek is just one example of Native-led efforts to clean up, stop or prevent environmental disasters in Oklahoma alone. The Choctaw and Chickasaw nations are leading opposition to a $3.1 billion hydroelectric project on the Kiamichi River that would siphon billions of gallons of water from a sacred waterway. And local Native activists like Okcate Evita Smith McCommas of the Mvskoke Creek Nation, who chairs the Green County group of the Oklahoma chapter of the Sierra Club, are leading the fight to clean up the Arkansas River, which runs through Tulsa.

Cheyenne Skye Branscum, long active in the Oklahoma chapter of the Sierra Club, is now the national organization’s treasurer and is the first tribal citizen to serve on its board of directors. A member of the Citizen Potawatomi Nation, Branscum has a profound responsibility to protect our water systems.

“For my people, the Creator charged the Kewk, the women, to speak and protect the water. Protecting water is my sacred duty. The struggles over these waters are not relics of the past. These are the very real battles we still fight today. And even though our lands and waters are threatened, we remain resilient, because the future of these rivers is the future of our people.

Indigenous leaders in these fights hold up a mirror to our country and force us to confront the mistreatment of Indigenous people in this country. These communities are powerful messengers to challenge the fossil fuel industry and all industries that thrive on the destruction of our natural world. In many ways, they constitute the conscience of our nation.

The Bad River Band of Lake Superior Chippewa’s fight against the aging Line 5 pipeline in the Great Lakes region. The Nez Perce, Lummi, Yurok and other tribes are fighting to restore salmon populations that are so essential to their own way of life, as well as orcas and entire ecosystems of the Pacific Northwest. The Gwich’in people’s fight to protect the Arctic wilderness from destructive fossil fuel extraction. The Standing Rock, Cheyenne River Lakota and Rosebud Sioux fight against the Dakota Access Pipeline. These are just a few examples from across the country.

As we celebrate Indigenous Peoples’ Day this week and Native American Heritage Month in November, let’s join America’s Native communities in making the protection of waters, lands and wildlife our sacred duty.

Ben Jealous is executive director of the Sierra Club and professor of practice at the University of Pennsylvania.

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