Green days
Part 5
by Michael Crowley
You've seen "brownfields" all over the city and state, even if you don't know
them by name. They are desolate abandoned lots, often fenced-off, often in
impoverished urban neighborhoods like Roxbury and Dorchester. And thanks to
their previous industrial occupants, they are too polluted to be used safely
for a new purpose.
But now, in Massachusetts and around the country, a movement is under way
to reclaim dead zones in the middle of populated neighborhoods and use them for
economic development. In tackling brownfields, environmental and community
activists are reassessing the way we think about development in America's aging
cities.
"Our attempts to clean up these sites and punish the polluters have largely
failed," says William Shutkin, an attorney and cofounder of Alternatives for
Community and Environment (ACE), an innovative Roxbury-based legal and
educational outfit devoted to a combination of environmentalism and community
development.
This fall the state legislature will consider a range of proposals designed to
stimulate private development of brownfields. It's a delicate balance: a new
law must entice new developers without letting the original polluters off the
hook.
But the efforts to decontaminate brownfields are symbolic of the approaches
helping to define the new wave of American environmentalism. Brownfields are a
key part of the "environmental justice" movement, which seeks to use the law to
challenge the disproportionate burden of society's pollution that is dumped on
minority communities. For instance, hospitalizations for asthma are six times
more common in Roxbury than in the rest of the state.
"The bigger picture," says Shutkin, "is that part and parcel of the
brownfields problem is the social and economic condition of many neighborhoods.
That really has nothing to do with the environment. Until governments connect
the environment to other issues, like poverty, joblessness, and education, I
don't think we're going to see a lot of improvement."
The community-based approach of a group like ACE represents a growing belief
that major top-down environmental initiatives don't work anymore -- that
environmentalism must be brought down to a community level and made a part of
ordinary life, of neighborhood development. ACE, for instance, has been working
closely with Part of the Solution, a Boston-based minority-voter-registration
group, to compile an environmental scorecard for city-council candidates before
next month's election. The group is also urging Boston's bus fleet switch to
cleaner-burning diesel, and challenging what ACE cofounder Charles Lord calls
the "proliferation of parking lots in neighborhoods like Dorchester, Roxbury,
and Newmarket."
The Conservation Law Foundation's Doug Foy is enthusiastic about this type of
approach. "We've done a lot of the big federal legislative initiatives. We got
the Clean Air Act and the Clean Water Act and Superfund. It's been quite a
heyday for environmental law over the past 25 years. The challenge is actually
executing those laws," he says, noting it took more than two decades after the
Clean Water Act for the state to install equipment in Boston Harbor that
allowed it to meet federal pollution standards.
"I don't think there's a lot to be done in Congress these days," Foy says. "We
need to be crafting solutions that feel relevant to people, that they can
engage and feel part of, rather than just shipping it off to the Potomac." As
an example, Foy cites CLF's participation in a new, community-oriented push for
"traffic calming," which seeks to improve neighborhoods and reduce pollution by
slowing and limiting automobile traffic.
"It's fascinating how engaging this is for folks who are not
environmentalists," Foy says.
And it is on those people, it seems, that the environmental movement must
stake its future.
Michael Crowley can be reached at mcrowley[a]phx.com.