By: Mikhaela Connell
I grew up in Scarborough, Ontario, and until recently, I never truly understood what that meant. I knew that when I went to the grocery store, I would be surrounded by people who looked like me. And I knew that when I mentioned I was from Scarborough to people outside of my neighborhood, something in their tone would change. After a while, the embarrassment sunk in, and if anyone asked, I’d say I was from “East Toronto,” which wasn’t technically a lie.
At the time, I didn't have the foresight or even the words to describe what Scarborough was - one of the most ethnically and culturally diverse pockets of Toronto. Home to the best Caribbean food in North America (this is an opinion, but it’s not up for debate). Scarborough is also one of Toronto's urban heat islands; has an underfunded health network; and, somehow, even less efficient public transit than the rest of Toronto (If you know, you know).
My understanding of environmentalism was not organic. It was a journey of growth and reflection. Where I came from informs where I’m going. Going to elementary and high school in North York, I remember the white faces in the school’s ‘enviro’ or ‘green’ club giving reminders to recycle on our morning announcements. I spent most of my life ignoring these groups and even went as far as classifying environmental issues as 'white activism.' I had nothing against recycling; I guess I just didn’t understand why we needed a whole club for it.
As I grew up and began to reflect, I had to ask why the natural environment was associated with whiteness and why I never felt represented in those clubs. For a while, I settled on the belief that non-white people simply had bigger problems to worry about (like staying alive) so white folks could handle the bees and the trees. It's only fair, right?
I held this belief until 2020. I returned to Scarborough after four years at Queen’s University, studying political science at a predominately white institution. My activism grew as my awareness did. Like many of us, the murder of George Floyd by Derek Chauvin (former police officer) was a turning point from which we could not look back. It's my investment in the future of my community that drives me.
Thinking back to my childhood in Scarborough, making connections between racism, the environment, urban planning policies, and decision-making—it's all starting to click.
What I know now is that environmentalism is not simply a "greening" program. It is a commitment to divesting from the colonial structures that destroy our planet and disproportionately affect Black, Brown, and Indigenous communities. I now realize that it is all connected, and it connects us all.
I started to understand the harm of the whitewashing of the environmental movement.
While I don't label myself as an environmentalist, and at times, intersectional environmentalism doesn't feel comprehensive enough for me. What I advocate for is a holistic and all-encompassing approach to environmental activism.
"Activism is not issue-specific.
It's a moral posture that, steady state,
propels you forward from one hard
hour to the next…"
This excerpt from June Jordan reminds me of where I stand. I'm reworking my definition of liberation to include health equity, climate justice, access, and so much more. It’s not just where I live, but it’s recognizing instances of racism in urban planning and industrial development, connecting environmental racism to gender justice and accessibility, and washing that all down with anti-capitalism and dismantling the structures that maintain the status quo. Not one is more important than the other; they are simply overarching and dependent.
My commitment to social justice means turning my attention to injustice wherever it appears. As June Jordan says, “You do not turn away.” Getting to the root of environmental issues means recognizing how colonialism and white supremacy caused the climate crises. Yet, racialized and equity-denied communities in Canada and around the globe are feeling the harshest effects of environmental degradation. Black, Brown, and Indigenous peoples are putting in a vast majority of the work to combat issues they didn't cause to safeguard what's left of our biodiversity. Yet, we are consistently and blatantly shut out of the formalized and funded environmental movement. This is the ethos I carry with me in my equity, diversity, and inclusion practice and studies in social justice education.
Looking back, I would not have told my younger self to join the Green Club at school, but I would have told her to be critical of their messaging or perhaps start a counter-club just to shake things up with some dis-tracks at recess (I’m only half kidding).
When I think about Climate Solutions, I think about Indigenous sovereignty, Black liberation, and the fall of capitalism (to name a few). The beauty of climate solutions is that they are not merely solutions for our planet; they contribute to our peoples’ and communities' health now and in future generations. We must think holistically and systemically because justice for ALL includes people and the planet. Climate solutions demand that we feel more significant than ourselves, beyond our privilege, and challenge our priorities.
Environmentalism, Intersectionality… call it what you want. I call it justice.
"Mikhaela is an equity, diversity, and inclusion specialist and a social justice researcher who is passionate about education and community building. Her work focuses on climate justice, anti-racism, and other intersectional issues, all with joy at the center."
Mikhaela Connell (She/Her)
MA Candidate in Social Justice Education at UofT OISE
Justice & Equity Coordinator at Greenpeace Canada
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