Ali McGhee is an editor with AVL today, a host on Asheville FM Slumber Party and the former editorial director of Asheville Grit. She has a PhD in English Literature from the University of Rochester and is also a member of Asheville Public Arts and Cultural Commission. She is a core faculty member at the Enneagram School of Awakening. Her work has been published in Dark Mountain, Slippery Elm, Holler, Scallywag, WNC Magazine, and others. A native of Asheville, she grew up in the forest and the creeks, and they have been singing to her ever since.
Big thanks to Ali McGhee for sharing this beautiful tale with us!
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You can read the full transcript below.
Elizabeth Garland: All right, we are here. And this is another episode of Woods and Wilds. I’m Elizabeth Lashay. And not only do I have a podcast, but also a radio show, Slay the Mic.
Elizabeth Garland: And again, I’m just excited to be here and joined with an amazing co-host.
Kimala Luna: Hi, I’m Kimala Luna. I’m with Dogwood Alliance. I’m really excited to be back for another episode. And we are here today with Ali McGhee.
Ali McGhee is an editor with AVL today, a host on Asheville FM Slumber Party and the former editorial director of Asheville Grit. She has a PhD in English Literature from the University of Rochester and is also a member of Asheville Public Arts and Cultural Commission.
She is a core faculty member at the Enneagram School of Awakening. Her work has been published in Dark Mountain, Slippery Elm, Holler, Scallywag, WNC Magazine, and others. A native of Asheville, she grew up in the forest and the creeks, and they have been singing to her ever since. She is currently working on a novel about people turning into trees, as well as a multimedia project, Oso and Otter with her partner, artist Justin Noah Wells.
Ali McGhee, welcome to the show.
Ali McGhee: I am so glad to be here with y’all. Thanks so much for having me on.
Kimala Luna: Yes. We’re really excited to hear your story.
Ali McGhee: I will say that I wrote this story for last year’s Woods and Wilds storytelling event. And I was so excited. That was my first year as a participant, after a few years of hosting. And it was so exciting to be up on the stage telling a story and I was really honored and so I’m really excited to just share the piece. It’s been a little while since I revisited it, but I hope that you will enjoy it.
Kimala Luna: Yay!
Ali McGhee: All right. I’m here to tell you about the forest. I don’t mean to sound presumptuous. The forest doesn’t need me to tell you about it. We’ve spent too long believing we hold the power in this relationship and we all know what that’s done. No, I’m here because I need to tell you about my forest. The one whose branches grow out of my center and whose roots dig deep into this world and how my forest and the Forest, like the capital F forest, how we are the same. I read that tree’s brains, though of course that’s not the right word, look at me, forcing a tree into my narrow human understanding. But anyway, that their brains are their roots spreading out, dropping in, meeting the mycelium and flicking out messages and nutrients through it to the other trees.
Essentially, if we were trees, we’d all be doing a permanent headstand. Picture that, imagine how different yoga would look. Here’s what else I know about trees. That the Chanterelles grow under the White Oaks each summer at the house where I grew up and that the earth there is a carpet of moss, joyful and full. A tapestry of green. One year I tried to convince my mother not to pave it and turn it into extra parking spaces, and finally she understood why. That a wand carved from Black Walnut means that you have walked the poison path and found comfort in it.
And a wand carved from Oak means you have the strength of the Green Lady with you, always. That the Weeping Willow, who grows by and holds the water, cures deep, old sorrows. And that one reason for her name comes from the way rain looks like tears when it falls from her leaves. That she has held me when it seems there is no way out of my darkness and helped me to take my next steps. That each year of wood thrush nests in the woods behind my house and every morning and evening, while it’s here, I am the lucky recipient of its gifts. That it’s hidden song is disappearing from our world, that it, and all things are worth saving. That it is not even our right to say what’s worth saving.
This summer, several birds built nests in our yard. We’d peek into the hanging ferns to see baby house finches, screaming, and hungry. A month later, they fledged. We saw them perched and focused on a nearby power line as mama taught them to fly. One night after our House Finches had flown, after one of many torrential rains that month, I heard cries in the semi-dark, saw soft small movement against the wet grass. A sparrow’s nest with four hatchlings had been obliterated by the storm, sending the inhabitants toppling from their precarious position in the bush by our kitchen window. They were mewling things. And their parents swooped by horrified as I contemplated what to do. Several internet searches later, I placed the babies carefully in a homemade nest tucked into a small cardboard box filled with dried yarrow and a soft hand towel.
I had to leave it on the ground. It was too unwieldy for the bush and I didn’t want to take them too far away. I just didn’t want them to die. For the next few days, the parents flew by the window and one or two of the chicks would raise their tiny heads. Then one morning, after a night of hearing the coyote sing up in the dark hills, they were gone. They were still too young to fly. How much of the forest is still nature, red of tooth and claw, and how much is now our fault? I felt the loss and my own responsibility in it. A few days later, I watched a mama bear with two broken hind legs try to cross the interstate. Her cubs peering expectantly from the side of the road. People had stopped their cars, pulling off onto the shoulder to do what? I wasn’t that brave, had no idea how I would do anything but fall apart if I pulled over.
The next week, I was in the hospital hemorrhaging because my pregnancy was in the wrong place. Dust colored pigeons sat outside my window, which looked out over the building, endless. Itself, a kind of terrible forest filled with its own strange creatures. Death links us to death and to the turning world. Even when we hide behind our doors, our curtains pulled tight against the inevitable, but still it’s there. I felt it as I lay in that bed, inhaled and exhaled it between sobs until it could be quiet and still. Like those birds and that bear, life was lost before it even really had a chance. We all would have been good parents. Here’s another thing I know about the forest. White Pines are for peace and Hemlocks, wisdom. Oak protects and Birch helps forgive. I know this because the trees told me. I don’t know why they still bother to talk to us, but they do.
There’s a way of walking in the woods that keeps time with the slowness of the earth. I try to do it as often as I can, but I usually only find my way into that still easy way of being, paradoxically, when I’m on the hunt. For new spring violets, for stinging nettle to take home and wilt so that it releases its gentle medicine, for the morels that pop up where the old lumber mill used to be.
I have visions of creating a feast worthy of the fairy folk, where we’ll all drink honeysuckle tea out of acorn cups in a blue-green forest grove. And the world won’t be the same when I step back into it. It feels easier to leave sometimes, to throw my hands up and go deeper into the woods or maybe to take a boat and travel down the river, stopping at an island, just big enough for me and setting up there for the rest of my days like Pippi Longstocking, waiting on the fairies to come for tea. But fairies are tricksy things, and their spells would take me so far away, I’d never be able to return. Even a broken home is still a home. Isn’t it?
A few years ago, I went camping with a friend in Acadia National Park on the wild, rocky, Maine coast. We hiked all day, up what seemed to me to be a sheer cliff face as I hauled myself up, dragged myself across the iron rings and ropes that some far braver souls had placed there for people like us, drilling iron into a mountain for no other reason than to help us see the startling view from its pinnacle. It was terrifying. I feigned bravery as I skirted along the scree, feeling my own smallness articulated with every step. My frailness as my ankles twisted this way and that, as my arms shook from the effort to sidle across giant boulders and heave atop ledges. At the top was the burnt orange and gold of the forest. And at its edge, the gray sea stretching onward to the end of the world.
That night we set by a fire we built with Birch strip starters, gently pulling the paper outer bark and being careful not to take too much. And we drank cheap red wine and hot chocolate and swapped stories into the chill of the autumn evening slipped into our bones in spite of the flames. And we crawled away to sleep, drawing blankets tight and keeping wool caps on, sturdy against the cold. Things shuffled around our tent to remind us that they had been there all along. In the morning, we made bacon and eggs and they tasted that glorious way that only a camp stove and a cold night can make things taste, like gas and fire and grit. Then we packed up, folding tents and rolling sleeping bags, already stepping out of rhythm with that sacred place. Another friend calls it forest time. That slipping into the slower cadence of growing and dying things and remembering your place there. The way that being becomes so easy.
As we shed our onion skin, a replanting takes place and we recognize ourselves in the darting shape of the buck, the buzz of flies, the black eye of the woodpecker as he glides by. Days in the forest stretch on. Each new discovery, a salamander, brilliant orange and half hidden under a rock, a little village of inky cap mushrooms, glistening black and silver in the morning dew. A spider’s web the size of a face, usually spied after walking straight into it, the white bones of a deer washed clean by bugs and time. A caddis fly, submerged and sparkling in a clear rivulet of water spilling down from the mountain. Each one, giving way to the next, creating the net of a world that holds us, too.
And if the days are spacious, the nights are even longer, filled with the whisperings of things to each other and to the velvet dark, a love song, perpetually unfolding. There are no answers in this story. No paths forward. Grief takes us to strange places. And beauty does too. Once you step off the trail, you’re lost, but perhaps that’s what we all need, to be lost. To find our way back to ourselves and to discover there has never been a trail at all, but the one we’ve made before this moment, and this moment, and this one. What song do you sing to the forest? And what does it sing back?
Kimala Luna: Oh my gosh. That part always makes me cry.
Elizabeth Garland: Me too.
Kimala Luna: I just love the way you capture grief and awe in the same breath so often throughout the story.
Ali McGhee: Thank you. Yeah, and I think you can’t have one without the other. They’re are two sides to the same coin. Yeah. And maybe they’re parts of each other.
Elizabeth Garland: I’m still having chills over here. And I think it’s extremely powerful and your imagery is beautiful. And I just have to thank you for being vulnerable with others to share your story.
Ali McGhee: Thank you. Thank you so much. Yeah, it just all came out.
Kimala Luna: This thread of connection, and the connection you feel to the forest and then the connection that we end up finding in each other, through those vulnerable moments, I think are the most powerful things we’ve got really.
Ali McGhee: Yeah. I agree.
Kimala Luna: I also love that it’s got a lot of dark themes, but you keep also this thread of whimsy and innocence with the imagery of the wands and the tea parties, and being Pippi Longstockings on the river. And I just… I guess I want to know a little bit about your childhood and the kind of imaginative kid you were.
Ali McGhee: And it’s interesting, because I look back and I’m like, “Maybe I haven’t really changed that much since…” Because as a kid, I grew up in Asheville and in the woods really, like you said in my bio, we lived in a… You couldn’t even call it a neighborhood. It wasn’t that far from anything, but it was deep in the woods and there weren’t really any other houses around. And we didn’t really talk to our neighbors, but it wasn’t in the country. It was an interesting place. And for the first five and a half years of my life, I was an only child. And I was always terribly introverted.
Ali McGhee: I was really close with my parents, I didn’t want any kids to come over really. And I just wanted to be on my own. And I actually had tons of imaginary friends. So some of that is from my experiences as a kid, when I would actually have tea parties with my imaginary friends in my house and outside. And I just grew up with this feeling, and I think my parents cultivated this in me, that the forests really were a magical place. Not only were they filled with all these fairy creatures and things like that, but they were just magical in and of themselves, just because of what they were. So I’ve always felt that in the woods since then, and in the forest, when I go out. And I like to still experience the woods on my own, I’m realizing now. Like I love to go outside and walk on my own.
Ali McGhee: I love hiking with other people, but sometimes I just want to be like, “Just to be quiet, we just need to hear the magic of the forest now, stop sharing everything.” So it’s really a place where I’ve always recharged, but I also have always seen that darker side as well. So there’s always been this whimsy and there’s also always been that darkness. Once the sun goes down, if you’re camping, what are those noises outside? You have no idea. There’s this whole other world that opens up in the dark and it’s not good or bad. It just is. And it does take on a darker tone I think sometimes. That’s long winded, but kind of it. But my parents loved that I was outside all the time. So they really nurtured that in me.
Elizabeth Garland: I absolutely love that. And I think you definitely show that throughout your story. When we talk about chaos and the forest and how healing it is, what is one thing that you would tell others to do when going through a difficult time?
Ali McGhee: Hmm. I think specifically to nature, I think for me it was so helpful when I was going through my own loss of my pregnancy to just get outside and cry on trees almost? Just like actually hug a tree, get barefoot, stand on the earth. There’s something that’s so ungrounding about realizing that this control you thought you had over your body or this knowledge of your own body you thought was there, just isn’t there all of a sudden.
Ali McGhee: So I think anything that is potentially a way to reground, just like sticking your feet onto the earth or just like taking time. I think we do so much that fills up all of our time, so we don’t feel grief, but it’s important to feel it and it does give this richness to life. And it does remind us that there’s so much beauty out there. So I think opening up some silence and space for that, and the forest is the place to do that. And then while you’re in the forest, you have these magical encounters with bugs and birds and mushrooms and so it becomes a different way of connecting.
Kimala Luna: I’m feeling like also just the heaviness of the current time we’re in, and I’m wondering about your personal journey right now through that. Because you are a writer and an artist and you do use these emotional experiences that you have for creativity. You channel it. And so I was just wondering.
Ali McGhee: Yeah, that’s a great question. And the answer is complicated because… So I’m writing a novel and I’ve been writing it for years. I’m finishing a novel, I’m trying to say it that way. It’s about people turning into trees, but actually the whole premise of it is that there is an apocalyptic virus that comes and wipes people out. So as far as the pandemic goes, I found that I’ve stepped away from that novel for a while because I’m like, “Nope, no one is going to want to read this if I were to publish it in the next couple of months, like no one wants to read a novel about a virus while we’re in a virus.”
Ali McGhee: So there’s that. But then I think that the other answer is that I am finding more time to write and I’m finding more inspiration and that’s happening through a lot of the connections that I’m seeing people make to one another and the movement that I’m seeing happening. So that’s both within the pandemic, but then also with Black Lives Matter and the protests that have been going on and all those shifts, I’m starting to see… It’s really simple things, like more characters of color are starting to show up in my works, like something really simple. Things are more on my mind in this really present way.
Ali McGhee: So I just started a story with a Black main character. It’s a science fiction story and it’s weird, but she just popped into my head fully there. And I’m like, “Oh cool, it’s nice to meet you. This is great, this is so exciting.” So I think just taking inspiration and looking at how these characters and these weird science fiction universes are dealing with issues that we’re going through in their time is one thing.
Ali McGhee: And then I think part of it is just letting myself off the hook for not writing creatively as much right now. And just being there to listen. I think that is so vital right now. And I’m not going to get any stories if I don’t ever listen. And I think right now, particularly is a time to shut up and listen. So I’m doing that. And I think I’ll see what comes of that.
Elizabeth Garland: Through your story, I kept thinking about present and current events that are happening, and especially things that are really heavy on my heart, just being a black woman. And when you were talking about poison path and you felt comfort in it and the hidden song and multiple different things, whereas like this is how I feel navigating through a world where there are hidden truths or how are we talking about the things that we’re dealing with as a nation, as a world.
Ali McGhee: I love that. And I think that there’s a couple things I wanted to say about that. And one is that, this is more general, but I think anger, especially… Oh my gosh, my cat is just driving me crazy. Sorry guys. Anger in our society especially has been tamped down, especially women’s anger, I think. And the anger of black people and people of color. And I think it’s all been like, “Oh, that’s not okay. You can’t have that reaction. You’re scary,” or, “You’re not who we thought you were,” or something. And in fact, anger is actually an emotion that I’ve always felt very present to. I’ve had to work on it, but it actually has a really productive place in my life.
Ali McGhee: And I think right now we are seeing just how productive and powerful and change-making anger can be. Because anger is like this fire force that transforms things. And I think that’s always been really personally resonant for me and it is also dark. And I think some of that comes out in… So I’m really interested in Appalachian witchcraft and folklore traditions. And so some of that hidden stuff I’m speaking to is specifically regarding that, but it’s totally applicable to other traditions as well. And in fact there’s a really rich history of black Appalachian folklore and traditions here. A lot of which is still hidden.
Kimala Luna: I love that about anger. I think that is an emotion, we’re all about claiming our emotions to a certain extent until it becomes in any way problematic to the greater whole. And right now that’s what we need, is a big shake up of the greater whole, and I think that emotions like anger are really good catalyzers for that sort of thing.
Ali McGhee: I would put grief in there too. I was speaking specifically to anger, but I think grief is one of those too, where we’ve as a society, we’ve shoved off grief. You don’t really talk about it, right? But actually, it’s another one of those transforming forces, though it’s a different kind of element to it or something.
Kimala Luna: Yes. I think grief is one of the most transformative emotions you could possibly go through or experience, but yeah, you talk about that in the forest with this red tooth and claw.
Ali McGhee: Yeah. And I think that we’ve definitely experienced that with the loss of our wild spaces, to bring it really back to the forest. But that has such resonance across every aspect of life, including social justice and things like that. But this way that we’ve lost… I know that there’s a guy named Gordon Hempton, and he actually goes around the world and records wild spaces where you can’t hear any sounds that are human made. And he’s finding that they’re just decreasing more and more over time and that it’s harder and harder to find them. And that just makes me terrified. And I feel so much grief because of that. When I go out to hike in the woods, it’s so rare that I don’t meet other people or I don’t hear a plane go over, or something like that. And I’m just wondering what the cost is. I know the cost is incredibly high, but when I am out there hearing it, it’s really, really devastating.
Kimala Luna: Yeah, absolutely. I think the way that we treat our public lands is really reflective of the way that we treat people. We have a complete disregard for how it impacts everything else. And a complete disregard for the surrounding habitat and the life lost.
Ali McGhee: Yeah. And sometimes it’s very hard to feel optimistic. Especially when I’m thinking about it and talking about it, but it’s amazing how every time I’m actually outside in the woods, I always feel optimistic. It’s an interesting thing. So it’s this balance, how do I work to help this and change this? And also that, I don’t know, just recognition, I guess, of the power of the forest, and also just wanting others to be on the same page as I am. I don’t know. I’m not sure how I’m saying that, but something like that.
Kimala Luna: To even be able to have access to that, because I think a lot of things that happen is that the surrounding access to nature, or even any access to nature is limited or destroyed, for Black and Indigenous People of Color.
Ali McGhee: Absolutely. That’s so true. Yeah.
Elizabeth Garland: Well, when we were talking about laying down roots, what are some roots for you… And I keep using this word, but I’m going to say it one more time, that you are rooted in through your passion, through your love of what makes you, you? What makes you Ali?
Ali McGhee: That’s such a good question. I think one is, I guess, my imagination, which is a weird route, because it doesn’t seem very rooted, but I think that ever since I was a kid, my first best friend was my imagination. My first sibling before my sister was born, was my imagination. So that’s always been a place where I’ve turned to come back to myself, right? And I think there were years when I falsely lived as an extrovert and I’ve just recently remembered that I’m not, and it really has been this reclaiming of my imagination and the person I am when things are quiet. And I think that’s where I feel most at home. So I think that’s a really big one. I guess this is similar, but just being at home, being grounded, not being out and about and everything. I love my community. So I would say paradoxically, that’s also a route. Asheville itself is a home that I’ve returned to several times now throughout my life.
Ali McGhee: But then also just being in a home space where I feel safe and I have my loved ones around me. I’m trying to grow a garden this year and it’s sort of working. Stuff like that where I actually can see roots in the ground that I planted in there. So having a good home spaces is really important to me as well. And then yeah, community, friends and family, I have really strong relationships with my immediate family and that’s absolutely one as well. And then I think art. I love reading and watching films and listening to music and experiencing all of that. And that’s always been really important to me too. So those are a few things.
Elizabeth Garland: Wonderful. Well, in terms of being still and being grounded, and there is such a beauty in that, but there’s so much noise that is constantly happening. And I’m trying to use that as both reality and a comparison for life. When your life gets really noisy, is there a certain place that you like to go around the Asheville area?
Ali McGhee: I love that question. There are few, but the one that popped into my mind first, so I’ll talk about it, was just driving on the Blue Ridge Parkway, and maybe stopping at an overlook. There are a couple I really like and always tend to stop at, and just sitting there for a while. And I’ve done that ever since I had a car, because I grew up in this area and ever since I was in high school, I guess, I had access to a car. I would do that a few times a week, I feel like. I did it a lot. And I had so many formative experiences up on the Parkway. From hiking to just watching the meteor shower, to going up with friends.
Ali McGhee: And I think that’s one where I really tend to go when things are getting a little bit too crazy. And I’ve got a fun story. A few years ago, I had the worst day, and I needed to do something and get away. So immediately I just got in my car and I didn’t even know where I was going. And I ended up on the Parkway at an overlook and I was like, “Oh, okay, this is where I’m supposed to be.” And I got out of the car and actually wrote for a while. Because I really wanted to just write and get my creative juices flowing and dump my day. And it was really interesting because as the cars come up to the overlook and then they drive away, it’s like these little micro-communities get created. And I was just astonished by how cool it was.
Ali McGhee: Like five to eight people came together, were really lovely to one another. It was like this beautiful outpouring of human compassion and connection, and then they’d leave and another set would come and then they’d leave. And eventually this camper pulls up at the other end of the overlook and this older gentleman gets out and sets up a telescope. So I just kept sitting there and he was doing stuff with his telescope and then another couple came up, talked to him, came over and talked to me and they were like, “Oh, you should go look at that guy’s telescope. He’s got something pulled up that’s pretty cool. And he says you should come over.” So I went over there and we actually, after that, became fast friends. So he showed me the stars and a planet or something, and then gave me his card and pre-COVID we had lunch every day or every week.
Ali McGhee: And we still talk every day and we’ve got a picnic hopefully set up sometime in the next couple of weeks where we’ll get together again. But it was just this beautiful experience and it wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t had a bad day and ended up at the Parkway. So I think that’s one of my favorite examples. Now I actually live out of town a little bit and I have immediate access to a land conservancy or a conservation easement with trails, that is across from my house. So I typically will just go over there, but I rarely meet anyone. So there are not quite as many opportunities for that sort of connection. I love that story.
Kimala Luna: That’s a very sweet story.
Elizabeth Garland: It is. It’s amazing.
Ali McGhee: Yeah. You never know who you’ll meet when you’re in the forest, or forest adjacent, I guess.
Elizabeth Garland: Yeah. All my stories about the Parkway never ended like that. I think it was more to make out with someone.
Ali McGhee: Oh, I had those too. I glossed over those, yeah, definitely. Don’t want to leave those out, also important.
Kimala Luna: Thank you so much for joining us, Ali.
Ali McGhee: Thank you guys for having me. And thanks for letting me share my story and my weird memories and stuff with you all.
This is a guest post by Jason Williams of StormSafety.org, a website dedicated to providing information to help people be prepared for storms. The views and opinions expressed are those of the author and do not imply endorsement by Dogwood Alliance.
There’s no disputing the fact that a garden is a very good addition to your home, making gardening among the most worthwhile hobbies you can pursue. However, if you’re going to put in all that effort into your garden, you want to make sure that your garden serves the environment, too. Get to know the nitty-gritty of eco-friendly and water-conscious gardening by checking out the resources below.
Gardening is widely regarded as a very healthy activity — not only enhancing overall wellness but also contributing to the health of the environment. Learning the ins and outs of this amazing pastime will ensure that you do it right, so benefits are enjoyed all around.
Photo by Pexels.com
While gardening at its very core is already environmentally-friendly, there are always opportunities to adopt eco-friendlier methods, particularly in how your garden utilizes water. Let’s take a closer look at the ways you can create a more sustainable and water-conscious garden.
Photo by Unsplash
Appropriate eco-friendly practices will undoubtedly improve your garden’s water consumption by leaps and bounds. Look into taking this important initiative to the next level with easy additions that are well worth the expense.
A rain barrel
Yes, gardening is already a worthwhile activity, but why stop there when you can truly contribute to the greater good by keeping your garden’s water consumption in check? As far as environmental contributions go, this may be a humble one, but the impact is anything but.
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During times of stress like the COVID-19 pandemic, spending time in areas of greenery is an important way to reduce fear and anxiety and improve overall well-being. Especially for urban and suburban-dwellers, parks serve as easily-accessible mesocosms of wilderness within towns and cities. They are pretty to look at and relaxing to lounge in. These green spaces, including urban parks and state parks, provide areas for recreation and aesthetic pleasure and are proven to promote overall public health. Moreover, they reduce air pollution by generating cleaner air and reduce flooding by aiding in storm water collection. They are important public utilities that residents benefit from visiting.
However, such green spaces are primarily located in white and affluent communities and primarily benefit those communities. Neighborhoods with greater Black populations and less wealth or environmental justice communities are barred from the health benefits of green spaces due to physical distance.
This issue is reflected in state and national parks. State and national parks are essential areas of recreation for people of all races, yet the proportion of Black people who visit such parks is significantly smaller than the proportion of people of color in the entire US population. In fact, only 1% of Yosemite National Park’s visitors are Black. While the cost of travel to these parks may pose a barrier to minorities, part of the issue may also be that they simply do not feel comfortable accessing green spaces. In 2015, four Black academics were invited to a scholarly event in Yosemite National Park free of charge, along with white and Latinx academics. The Black academics were extensively questioned about their background and qualifications, while the white and Latinx academics were not.
This unconscious idea that green spaces are meant for white and affluent people contributes to environmental racism. This issue is even more prevalent during quarantine. Many of the already limited parks in environmental justice communities are closed to maintain social distancing. A tweet from May 2 highlights the disparity between green spaces in environmental justice neighborhoods versus white affluent neighborhoods, showing how a park in Harlem is locked and empty while a park in West Village is open and full of predominantly white people.
Parks and other green spaces are shown to improve physical health and psychological well-being. Yet these green spaces are distributed in ways that make them harder for Black, Indigenous, and people of color (BIPOC) and low income people to access. Furthermore, though studies suggest lower crime rates in neighborhoods near green spaces, some law enforcement officials view these green spaces as crime hotspots when they are located in environmental justice neighborhoods and obstruct full access. The combination of physical distance from and over-policing of urban parks prevents minority and low-income populations from reaping the health benefits of natural spaces.
Raksha DoddabeleGrowing up in eastern Tennessee with the backdrop of the Smoky Mountains, Raksha has always had a strong connection with the outdoors. She is a current undergraduate at Duke University, where she is pursuing a B.S. in Biology and minor in Computer Science, which she hopes to put to good use working in wildlife conservation. Some of her favorite activities include hiking, Scuba diving, and adventuring.
‘- for immediate release –
9th July 2020 – US American and Estonian forest campaigners welcome the conclusion of the Social and Economic Council (SER) in the Netherlands that the burning wood for heat or electricity should be phased out [1] and call on the Dutch government to act immediately to end both existing and new biomass subsidies that have turned the country into Europe’s fastest growing importer of wood pellets.[2]
The groups point out that although a majority of the Dutch public and several political parties demand an immediate end to the damage done to forests and climate by logging forests for biomass energy, Dutch wood pellet imports are forecast to double in 2020, for the second year in a row.
The biggest sourcing region are the Baltic States, however increasing quantities of wood pellets are also being imported from the Southeastern USA, Russia, and other countries.
Martin Luiga from Forest Aid Estonia states: “Logging rates in Estonia are far too high to protect the climate. Most of our endangered species are forest-dwelling species, and there is a widespread public concern about the intensity of logging. Nonetheless, the prevailing political mood is to further increase the harvesting volumes. Reducing demand for pellets would greatly help the situation and thereby protect Estonian forests.”
A peer-reviewed study published this month in the prestigious science journal Nature shows that across Europe the area of forests logged every year and the amount of wood taken from forests has drastically increased since 2016 as a result of greater demand, especially for biomass energy. The Baltic States are one of the most affected regions.[3]
Rita Frost from Dogwood Alliance, an NGO working to protect Southern US forests, says: “For many years now, we have been watching some of the most biodiverse forests in our region being clearcut followed by logs being taken to an ever growing number of pellet mills for export. Any delay in stopping subsidies in importing countries such as the Netherlands means that more of our forests will be cut down– disastrous for climate, wildlife, and communities alike.”
Almuth Ernsting from Biofuelwatch adds: “We are pleased to see that the SER Advice critiques the use of biomass for heat and electricity on principle. Until now, the Dutch government has put its trust in biomass sustainability standards, but there is no evidence that such standards – whether in the Netherlands or in any other country importing bioenergy feedstock – have had any effect on sourcing practices whatsoever. And even if they did, cutting down and burning trees will always make climate change worse.”
Scientists, amongst them the European Academies’ Science Advisory Council,[4] have been highlighting the fact that the carbon payback period for burning wood for energy lasts for decades or centuries, which is not compatible with the need to drastically reduce emissions in order to keep global warming to within 1.5 degrees.
Contacts: Martin Luiga, Forest Aid Estonia, Tel +372 567 11 615 Rita Frost, [email protected], Tel +1 512 423 0620 (USA) Almuth Ernsting, [email protected], Tel: +44 1316232600 (UK)
Notes: [1] ser.nl/nl/actueel/Nieuws/biogrondstoffen [2] See biomassmagazine.com/articles/17173/report-netherlands-to-double-wood-pellet-imports-in-2020 [3] nature.com/articles/s41586-020-2438-y [4] easac.eu/fileadmin/PDF_s/reports_statements/Carbon_Neutrality/EASAC_commentary_on_Carbon_Neutrality_15_June_2018.pdf
For the safety and well-being of our supporters, Dogwood Alliance will not hold our annual Woods & Wilds live storytelling event this year. It’s an event we look forward to every year because it’s an opportunity to celebrate the magic of forests with our community. We still wanted to find a way to bring that same kind of magic to people wherever they are, so we teamed up with Slay The Mic to launch Woods & Wilds: The Podcast!
We were overjoyed to welcome our very first guest, Dr. Thomas RaShad Easley aka RaShad Eas, also known as the Hip Hop Forester and the Assistant Dean of Community and Inclusion at the Yale School of Forestry & Environmental Studies, where he helps strengthen community diversity and develops programming around workplace equity. He’s also the author of the incredible article How Hip Hop Can Bring Green Issues To Communities of Color.
We look forward to sharing these stories and connections with you!
Want to listen to more? We have new episodes!
On Monday, June 22nd, the North Carolina Department of Environmental Quality (NC DEQ) held a virtual public hearing for a proposed Active Energy Renewable Power (AERP) black wood pellet facility in Lumberton, NC.
In Robeson County, where the population is 42% Native American and 24% African-American, the county is ranked worst in the state of North Carolina for health outcomes. According to NC DEQ’s own Community Mapping Tool, residents of Robeson County live with at least a dozen pollution sources. Many people are still rebuilding after Hurricane Matthew and Hurricane Florence devastated homes, roads, and other infrastructure due to the extreme flooding that made this North Carolina community the subject of national headlines.
It was a powerful hearing despite the technological challenges, including lack of broadband access for nearly 50% of Robeson County. Out of the dozens of comments made including a local state representative and a member of the county commission, only three people supported the new mill, and they were all employees of AERP.
“The shame of this is that every community being saddled with these dirty industries looks the same. It’s called environmental racism. I’m still trying to wrap my head around why you have a Title VI if it’s not going to impact your decision-making.”
Naeema Muhammad of the North Carolina Environmental Justice CoalitionEditor’s note: Title VI, enacted as part of the landmark Civil Rights Act of 1964, “prohibits discrimination on the basis of race, color, and national origin in programs and activities receiving federal financial assistance.”
“I have been following the wood pellet industry for years and noted that there is a consistent and troubling issue of underestimating the emissions of wood pellet plants.”
Attorney Patrick Anderson of the Environmental Integrity Project
“I’m opposed and I’m livid and I’m seeing what it’s doing. People are profiting and we are suffering. We pay tax dollars, we are citizens, we are human, and we are not allowed the opportunity to live as humans when you allow these plants into our community.”
Belinda Joyner of Clean Water for North Carolina
“I managed to go to a friend’s house to use their wifi because I think it is a matter of life or death. Black wood pellets have not been commercially tested in the United States. We’re already a county with high poverty rates and a lot of people with underlying issues, with COVID-19, and experimenting with our air quality may be a death sentence. AERP took advantage of this county by promising jobs. Yes, we need jobs, but not at the expense of our health.”
Concerned resident of Lumberton, NC
“We know it’s going to hurt us and not help us. We are sick of being the dumping and experimental grounds to find out if something is going to work that hurts us. Put it in North Lumberton. I’m speaking for South Lumberton, those that don’t have the necessities and the affordability to get on this call. This cannot go on. We cannot continue to be the sacrificing ground because we are Black and Brown. Air is invisible, but it is necessary.”
4th generation resident of Robeson County
“I’m opposed to this plant but would reconsider if you wanted to put the plant behind Chapel Hill. It’s time to stop what seems to be a purposeful assassination of Native American health across the United States.”
David Lowry, Associate Professor of Anthropology and member of the Lumbee Tribe
“At this time I cannot support this industry coming into our county…I would ask DEQ to slow down, give our community a chance to understand what’s going on here in this process.”
State Rep. Charles Graham (D-47, Robeson County)
“This is not climate action, this is a mistake.”
Erin Carey, Coastal Programs Manager for NC Sierra Club
To read Dogwood Alliance’s comments, please go here.
Environmental advocacy groups join forces in fresh appeal for MPs to redirect biomass subsidies towards truly clean and renewable energy sources like solar and wind
LONDON (22 June, 2020) – A coalition of environmental advocacy groups have launched Cut Carbon Not Forests, a hard-hitting campaign to expose the UK’s wasteful subsidies for companies that burn trees for electricity and to put pressure on policy makers to support reform. In the face of the escalating climate emergency, and as the UK government seeks a “green recovery” from the coronavirus pandemic, the new multichannel campaign, led jointly by Biofuelwatch, Dogwood Alliance, NRDC (Natural Resources Defense Council) and the Southern Environmental Law Center (SELC) calls for an end to these subsidies, redirecting billions of pounds to fill a critical funding gap for genuinely clean and renewable energy solutions like solar and wind.
The UK is the largest user of biomass electricity in Europe, backed by more than £1 billion a year in government subsidies, paid out via a fee on energy bills. However, burning wood in power stations is no better for the climate than burning coal. Further, much of the wood in question is cut down and shipped in from sensitive forests overseas, destroying habitats and wildlife. Cut Carbon Not Forests will spotlight British constituents’ outrage about the UK’s reliance on this false climate solution as they urge their local MPs to remove subsidies from companies that burn trees for electricity.
“The climate emergency requires us to build a genuinely clean-energy economy and end wasteful subsidies for dirty biomass energy,” said Almuth Ernsting, Co-Director of Biofuelwatch. “Cutting down trees, shipping them from forests overseas and burning them in power plants was never compatible with the need to keep global warming to 1.5 degrees; that’s even clearer today. It’s long past time to direct this aid to genuine climate solutions like wind and solar energy.
Research shows British public opinion aligns with a push toward biomass subsidy reform. YouGov polling found 82% of respondents were worried about the impact on wildlife if trees in forests were being cut down to supply power plants. Only 3% of respondents thought the government should promote biomass energy using trees shipped in from overseas forests, which is the UK’s primary source of supply. By contrast, a large majority said the government should promote solar and wind power.
“Our two biggest global environmental challenges – climate change and biodiversity loss – are inextricably linked, so keeping forests standing must be a priority of all governments,” said Sasha Stashwick, a senior advocate with NRDC. “Much of the wood burned in UK power plants is cut down and shipped in from ecologically sensitive forests in the Southeastern U.S. Those forests are efficient and powerful carbon-capture systems and support unique wildlife found nowhere else in the world.
Years of on-the-ground investigations by journalists and local NGOs show that biomass imported into the UK energy market is commonly sourced from clear-cuts of mature hardwood forests in the U.S. Southeast. Once these forests are cleared, they are forever degraded.
In 2018, the UK government introduced new rules, which effectively stop subsidies for new wood-burning power stations. However, the rules do not extend to plants with existing subsidies. This loophole is most glaring for Drax, the nation’s largest biomass-burner, which still receives more than £2 million per day in subsidies despite serious concerns about the company’s impacts on the climate, air quality and forests.
Without further reform, UK energy billpayers will spend £13 billion in direct support to large biomass power plants, including £10bn at Drax alone, according to a new report by climate think tank Ember. Moreover, Drax and other biomass plants not only benefit from billions in direct subsidies but are unfairly exempted from paying carbon taxes and thus indirectly subsidized with billions more in tax breaks. Over the entire period over which subsidies are available to burn biomass (2012-2027), the UK government will forgo upwards of £2.8 billion in carbon taxes, as revealed by the Ember report. Both these direct and indirect subsidies rest on the false assumption that burning trees for electricity is a climate solution, yet government policy continues to lag scientific consensus.
Removing subsidies from companies that burn trees for electricity is the primary goal of Cut Carbon Not Forests, which directs viewers to a campaign website where they can take action by emailing their local MP.
Media contacts: Richard Scarlett or Emma Briggs Finn Partners [email protected]
# # # ABOUT BIOFUELWATCH Biofuelwatch is a UK/US non-profit organisation which undertakes research, campaigning and advocacy regarding the impacts of large-scale bioenergy. Biofuelwatch is working for a reform of energy policies to ensure that all support goes towards the lowest-carbon and cleanest forms of renewable energy as well as energy efficiency and conservation. See www.biofuelwatch.org.uk and follow us in twitter @biofuelwatch
ABOUT DOGWOOD ALLIANCE Dogwood Alliance is a nonprofit environmental organisation based in the Southern United States that mobilises diverse voices to protect Southern forests and communities from destructive industrial logging. The group’s Our Forests Aren’t Fuel campaign is part of an international coalition opposing industrial-scale forest biomass energy. Learn more at www.dogwoodalliance.org and follow us on Twitter @DogwoodAlliance.
ABOUT NRDC The Natural Resources Defense Council (NRDC) is an international nonprofit environmental organization with more than 3 million members and online activists. Since 1970, our lawyers, scientists, and other environmental specialists have worked to protect the world’s natural resources, public health, and the environment. NRDC has offices in New York City, Washington, D.C., Los Angeles, San Francisco, Chicago, Bozeman, MT, and Beijing. www.nrdc.org and follow on Twitter @NRDC.
ABOUT SOUTHERN ENVIRONMENTAL LAW CENTER For more than 30 years, the Southern Environmental Law Center has used the power of the law to champion the environment of the Southeast U.S. With more than 80 attorneys and nine offices across the region, SELC is widely recognized as the Southeast’s foremost environmental organization and regional leader. SELC works on a full range of environmental issues to protect our natural resources and the health and well-being of all the people in our region. www.SouthernEnvironment.org
At the end of February, Georgia forest lovers from across the state came together to advocate for the #Stand4Forests resolution in the Georgia House of Representatives. This call to protect our forests and communities was assigned to the Natural Resources and Environment Committee, and, as a result of volunteers and organizational supporters meeting with key committee members, it looked like our resolution would get a hearing.
The #Stand4Forests GA team on the steps of the Georgia House of Representatives
Then came the COVID-19 pandemic and the shut down of the Georgia General Assembly. The legislature reopened this week, but crucial bills and budget negotiations will take precedence, so we don’t expect our resolution to move forward this session.
That doesn’t mean we’ve stopped our work to expand our coalition and broaden support for meaningful legislation in the next session.
The initial 6-week online series will feature programs hosted by Stand4Forests GA, Georgia Forest Watch, Sierra Club Georgia, Center for a Sustainable Coast, Georgia Interfaith Power and Light, and Beyond Coal Georgia. We’re working together to bring you the Georgia environmental, climate, and justice news you need to know.
The Georgia Enviro Show 6-week season kicks off July 1st
Each organization will present these issues from their perspective in their own unique format with Dogwood Alliance’s Stand4Forests Georgia (S4F-GA) hosting the first episode on July 1, 5:30 PM. The S4F-GA team has put together a fast-paced, upbeat 45-minute session in a nightly news format that will be livestreamed on Facebook. The program will include everything from expert interviews to stories from “Forest Trek: Next Generation” families.
You’ll also pick up a lot of important information and serious advocacy power tips. It’s all happening on Wednesday, July 1, 5:30-6:15PM.
As the City Council of Aarhus works on new climate change legislation, it is time for the city to phase-out district heating created by burning forests from the Southern United States, and phase-in truly renewable alternatives such as green heat pumps and geothermal energy, say 17 American NGOs in a letter sent to the Mayor of Aarhus today.
In an open letter (English, Danish) from NGOs in the sourcing region for Denmark utility Ørsted’s biomass demand, Lord Mayor Bundsgaard is warned that biomass demand is harmful to forests, communities, and the climate. To paint the picture of this point, the groups point Aarhus political leadership no further than news coverage from Danish news outlet TV 2: last August, a team of reporters from TV 2 Denmark were able to expose the control errors in Enviva’s biomass sourcing: showing the near-impossibility of controlling an industry that is operating an ocean away.
Letting forests grow is the single best way we currently have to remove carbon dioxide from the atmosphere. Standing forests keep growing, storing more carbon and helping to limit the growth of atmospheric carbon dioxide arising from sectors of the economy that are difficult to decarbonize.
The NGOs conclude with a call on Aarhus to phase-out district heating that is created by burning forests from the Southern United States, and phase-in truly renewable alternatives such as green heat pumps and geothermal energy. To see the letter in Danish: see here To see the letter in English: see hereFull list of signatories:
Dogwood Alliance Natural Resources Defense Council Greenpeace USA Southern Forests Conservation Coalition Rachel Carson Council John Muir Project Coastal Plain Conservation Group Southwings Green Belt Movement The Concerned Citizens of Northampton County Spruill Farm Conservation Project Biofuelwatch Pivot Point The Enviro Show Women’s International League for Peace & Freedom, Triangle Chapter 350.org, Triangle Chapter Sierra Club Capital Group Chatham Research Group
To note: this is not the first-time an international spotlight has been placed on Denmark’s use of forest as fuel. Last October, international NGOs sent a letter to Minister of Climate, Energy, and Supply, Dan Jørgensen
Lumberton, North Carolina, in Robeson County is a microcosm of the issues we face as a nation. Business as usual marches on while we reel from a global pandemic, from wrongful murders, and from the constant onslaught of racism, climate change, and a system that continues to prioritize corporations and profit with no regard for human life.
In this small town, the national pandemics of COVID-19, climate change, and institutional racism relentlessly impact the daily lives of local residents who are fighting to stop a proposed wood pellet facility from harming their community.
A concentration of industrial energy production, industrial logging, and industrial agriculture spew toxic pollution and degrade the air, water, and land of Black, Indigenous, and People of Color (BIPOC) communities. The threats of severe weather and hurricanes loom. And the Coronavirus continues to have a disproportionate impact.
Kareem Abdul-Jabbar said, “Racism in America is like dust in the air. It seems invisible — even if you’re choking on it — until you let the sun in.” Recent events have shone a light on the dust. And when that dust is combined with the lack of funding to rural communities and grassroots, BIPOC-led organizations, lack of access to healthcare, food insecurity, police brutality, and climate change, the rural South is choking.
The numbers are stark:
In Robeson County, where the population is 42% Native American and 24% African-American, the county is ranked worst in the state of North Carolina for health outcomes. According to NC DEQ’s own Community Mapping Tool, residents of Robeson County live with at least a dozen pollution sources. These include a solid waste landfill, coal ash sites, and a NC Renewable Power plant, a major pollutant source that burns poultry litter and wood waste. The abundance of CAFOs (Concentrated Animal Feeding Operations) in Robeson County make the community particularly susceptible to outbreaks of Coronavirus that thrive in meat processing production lines. Many people are still rebuilding after Hurricane Matthew and Hurricane Florence devastated homes, roads, and other infrastructure due to the extreme flooding that made this North Carolina community the subject of national headlines.
Lumberton under water after Hurricane Florence. Image by Carolyn Van Houten/The Washington Post
In the midst of these pandemics, the North Carolina Department of Environmental Quality (NC DEQ) is attempting to push through the permitting of a proposed black wood pellet facility, Active Energy Renewable Power (AERP). Recently, NC DEQ scheduled a digital public hearing for June 22nd. This is despite local concern over the facility’s pollution, the siting of the facility in a flood zone and in a predominantly Black neighborhood, and the ongoing Coronavirus pandemic. Local leaders, including the Robeson County Branch of the NAACP, the RedTailed Hawk Collective, and the NC Environmental Justice Network, have expressed concern that holding a virtual public hearing will limit the accessibility of the residents who will suffer the greatest impacts from the AERP wood pellet facility. More than half of Robeson County residents lack broadband access completely, and for those who do have access, service is unreliable. A digital public hearing will not provide a meaningful opportunity for engagement for the residents most directly impacted by this facility.
From Minneapolis to Lumberton, the same toxic systems are killing innocent people at the hands of police and at the hands of environmental racism. The movement for climate justice cannot exist without the Movement for Black Lives.
We need deep, structural change that puts resources in the hands of the communities hit hardest by the threats of climate change, racism, and dirty energy production. We need community and BIPOC-led solutions, and we need to truly listen to and follow this leadership.
It will take true, honest, and difficult self-reflection on the part of white people and white-led environmental organizations. It requires following local leadership – really, truly following local leadership. It requires putting resources, time, and intention towards frontline organizations and BIPOC leadership. The movement for justice will not be accomplished overnight or in a vacuum. We are honored to do this lifework with our partners and with our Dogwood Alliance community.
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November 5, 2026