IN THEIR OWN WORDS
Transformation as a New Way of Seeing
P. has worked in communities and governmental programs in Oregon for over a decade, focusing on the social implications of municipal waste, transforming the carceral system and connecting BIPOC folks to food in a decolonized way. They are a CDE Environment 2042 Emerging Leader alum. In their free time, they enjoy mountain biking, hiking, making jewelry, gardening, and playing with their dogs.
CDE asks: What does “transformation” mean to you?
P.: Transformation and growth go hand and hand. It’s the ability to adapt and change for the better good of yourself, and can be applied to individuals, institutions, organizations, businesses, etc.
CDE: What’s your story?
P.: When I was in my 20s, I worked in environmental education on a predominantly white team. They wanted to do equity work within the team, but the basis of the work we were doing in the department was upholding white supremacy values on what it means to connect to nature. Our curriculum was racist to Indigenous people and Black people. I knew shit was messed up, but I didn’t know how to approach it.
So I went to the E42 cohort at CDE, and my world was rocked! I didn’t know the history like that. I didn’t know about the land grabs, the laws and how race was created, and why race was created. We legit just made it up. I gained like 15 pounds during that training…all the emotional eating! Going through that cohort gave me a shared language and understanding. It gave me the foundation to know what I’m working with. I knew things were wrong, but now I could see. Before, I was grasping. But after, I was angry. I was angry for years.
Transformation…I really believe in CDE’s vision and change theory around how everything starts with yourself. But it can feel really hard, especially as a person of color, to point to myself as the problem. All I wanted to do was point to everyone else. “I have anger and you have to hold my anger. You are causing me this pain.” But I had to go through an awakening — to relearn what it means to navigate space, to learn how to lead with compassion. This is how you bring people in. It feels good to be past the angry phase.
During my time as an environmental educator, I also managed a racial equity strategy on top of my other full time job. I wasn’t compensated for that, and I got burned out. I felt like I was tokenized in that role. I discovered that a lot of people of color don’t even realize they’re advocating for parks systems that uphold white supremacy.
The old P. would shame them, but now it makes me sad. Now I ask, what does it mean to decolonize our relationship with the land? How are we reconnecting with plants? How are we creating spaces where art and creativity are just as important as facts and knowledge? What’s the solution to climate change? We need to build our connection to the land. Because we are so disconnected from the land, we can make decisions that are harmful. When you’re connected, you feel it. When there’s a fire, it’s not just that it’s hot and smoky. The animals are scared. The plants I love are dying. When we don’t have a deeper connection and relationship with space, we can make decisions like, “I can just buy stuff and throw it away.” This disconnect comes from traditional conservation values, where people are separate from the land.
Just before the pandemic, I left my work in parks to take on a role in our solid waste system. My job was to work with houseless folks, and part of my role was to be the enforcer. My closest coworkers at that time were police officers, who were my escorts through the woods. I worked with houseless folks who lived a half a mile off the beaten path. They’re in the woods, foraging and hunting, and they do not want to be found. When you’ve been traumatized to the point where you want to run away and not be seen, it’s very different from houseless folks in the city. The mental illness you’re encountering is different. A lot of the folks I was encountering were rural, poor white folks. I got a lot of threats, guns pulled on me. In those moments, I remember being like, I can see where the Proud Boys are recruiting. I really see. I see where they’re getting their recruits from. I could see the racial reckoning happening, talking to these poor white folks. I got a collision of perspectives in that job. Oh shit, I could see where they were coming from! I worked with inmate labor, folks in orange jumpsuits, cleaning up. Some people say incarcerated labor is slavery. But wait, have you talked to them? They love to be out and making a difference. Everything became less clear. I started seeing both sides. I started recognizing that it is never black and white, and really comes down to change. The system isn’t set up to care for folks. That experience changed my life.
