For some years now my husband and I have been working hard to raise awareness of a practice called mountaintop removal. Periodically we take folks for a flyover to witness one of the most destructive forms of mining on earth--the removal of the top of a mountain to access a thin Seam of coal and then pushing the overburden over into the hollows and the headwaters of streambeds that sit at their base, thereby poisoning the water and the people. This practice destroys much of one of the most bio-diverse regions on the planet. Even so, hardened by many depressing trips through decapitated mountains, I was utterly devastated by what I witnessed in Northern Alberta this week.
A tar sands mine and upgrader. Credit: David Hawkins
Driving through the notorious tar sands mining area--a stretch of land in Canadian wilderness that will soon reach the size of the state of Florida, I was appalled at the magnitude of the crime I am now privy to. The tar sands are a crime to humanity and to the planet that largely goes unnoticed by the rest of the world. As we passed our first evidence of mining (I was travelling with eight other friends from the Natural Resources Defense Council), my colleagues shouted to the driver to stop and with great gasps of disbelief leapt out of the car to photograph the clouds of toxic dust and yellow air much as my botanist father had insisted that we as children do whenever we passed an exquisite roadside alpine. Not I. I sat firmly inside the van with my scarf around my face with our host, Francois Paulette, former chief of the Dene Nation in Ft. Smith and advocate for First Nations. I expressed concern that my friends who braved the air and noxious smell were being contaminated. He strongly suggested a shower upon return to the hotel.
The author and Dene Elder Francois Paulette wait it out in the van, choosing not to inhale the noxious air. Credit: Susan Casey-Lefkowitz
It was then that I realized that this was as bad as the worst I had seen of mountaintop removal. I regretted I was there with every bit of my being. My ill father had urged me to stay home. He was right. This was Dante's Inferno and my life had yet again been irrevocably altered for the worst. Later that day my regret deepened. We were invited on a tour by Suncor of its reclamation areas. Like its name, two sunny people kindly hosted us through some areas. I was impressed and thankful they were thoughtful enough to host us. Again, I stayed firmly stuck to the seat of the van, while deeply depressed by what we saw, listening to explosives detonate regularly to keep away the birds. It brought back memories as enough explosives go off on a given week in Appalachia to match the atom bomb. I was gagging and nauseated by the smell and thoroughly traumatized. Yet, this was a reclamation site we were viewing and not even the open pit mine itself.
Both Appalachia and Alberta have much in common. The most destructive excavation of fossil fuels takes place in communities that are rural, poor and that have already suffered generations of oppression. It is sadly typical of this type of industry to take advantage of poverty. I think it comes down to basic civil and human rights in both of these communities. It is about the right to decide how your land will be used, the right to clean drinking water, the right to clean air, the right to health, and the right to have a better life for your children. Extractive industry often abuses these rights.
Tar sands are traumatizing to experience. They are a visual and visceral example of the impacts that our dependence on fossil fuel is having on mankind.
Dust storm over a tar sands upgrader. Credit: Susan Casey-Lefkowitz
Appalachia has worked hard to find its voice in its battle to stop mountaintop removal coal mining. The First Nations and communities of Alberta are still working to find theirs in fighting tar sands. Just as in Appalachia they are afflicted by disease. They are losing their livelihoods and way of life. This in turn means they are losing their ability to survive. The stage is large: they are travelling to Ottawa, New York, Norway, and Geneva to be heard. But it is hard to break through a so tightly held secret as the destruction of the health and livelihoods among Canada's First Nations to feed the American appetite for oil.
Tar sands clearly needs better regulation to prevent pollution from happening at all. The health authorities in Canada need to get to the bottom of the increase in rare cancers that are associated with petroleum pollution. Fossil fuels kill people. We see it nowhere more clearly than in the tar sands.
Fossil fuels kill people by polluting the water we drink and poisoning the air we breathe. One First Nations Elder went so far as to say that they are encouraging their community to stay childless as they lose their resources. They say there will be no more food and no more water. This is sadly another thing that mountaintop removal and tar sand share: an ability to take hope away. This stealing of hope is as criminal as any of the other violations of the Earth and people's health and rights. Francois Paulette, the Dene Elder, gave us a sage smudge with which to cleanse ourselves of the poison to which we had exposed ourselves. As with war where one is witness to hell, I know that I will live with this experience for the rest of my life and that my dreams will be disturbed forever.
Local Dene Elder Francois Paulette. Credit: Garth Lenz
It is my dearest hope that we can fix the destruction of our addiction to fossil fuels before it is too late. There is a message of hope in clean energy. We know that we can do it and that we can provide many, long-term jobs through clean energy. With the human rights violations that are happening every day in the name of oil and coal, can we afford to wait any longer?
Think this is bad. Check out what is getting ready to happen in Queensland Australia.
http://www.townsvillebulletin.com.au/article/2010/06/22/148235_news.html



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A member of NRDC's Global Leadership Council, Marianne Welch lives on a farm in Kentucky with her husband, Jim. Defending and stewarding the land is a legacy passed down from her family. Music, art, and Icelandic horses are her three passions outside of her profound respect
...A member of NRDC's Global Leadership Council, Marianne Welch lives on a farm in Kentucky with her husband, Jim. Defending and stewarding the land is a legacy passed down from her family. Music, art, and Icelandic horses are her three passions outside of her profound respect and love for the natural world and her two children and husband. With NRDC, she is involved in an effort to stop the practice of mountaintop removal mining in Eastern Kentucky. She is determined to see it end before her 53rd birthday.
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