The Frogtown neighborhood of Saint Paul was once a swampy wetland, where frogs were so numerous that the area was named for them. Now, Frogtown has less green space than most other neighborhoods here—there’s six times less green space per child in Frogtown than the city average. Back in 2009, long-time residents like Seitu Jones, Soyini Guyton, Patricia Ohmans, and Anthony Schmitz dreamed of addressing this disparity by turning a 12-acre site owned by the Wilder Foundation into a park and farm for the benefit of their community. Then, through years of hard work and diligent organizing, they made it a reality. At its inception, more than 100 semi-truck loads of rich dirt were brought in from Dakotah Roots, the Shakopee Mdewakanton Sioux Community’s organics recycling facility, to build the Frogtown Farm. Home to many once displaced from the Rondo neighborhood—the heart of Saint Paul’s African American community—the significance of this project in this location cannot be overstated.
By the time this essay is published, Black History Month will be nearly half-over. It is impossible to encapsulate in just one month—the shortest month of the year—the countless ways in which Black people have shaped this country. Nevertheless, we dedicate this month’s blog to the Black folks and communities we admire that have made, and continue to make, our local communities vibrant, specifically in the realm of environmental stewardship, justice, and activism.
Perhaps before we start, we should lay some groundwork by naming those original sins upon which the United States of America was built. The Doctrine of Discovery was first signed by Pope Alexander VI in 1493 to justify innumerable acts of violence and destruction committed by European colonists across the globe, and later codified in U.S. federal law in 1823 to justify the continued dispossession of Native lands. Hand in hand, another papal bull, “Romanus Pontifex,” issued in 1455 by Pope Nicholas V, authorized the enslavement of Africans by Europeans for the purposes of trade and domination. These decrees laid the groundwork for centuries of violence and oppression against Black, Indigenous, and Black Indigenous / Afro-Indigenous communities, and their legacy remains with us today.
Perhaps we should continue by exploring how Black and Indigenous communities have interacted and overlapped in this place we call home, in Mni Sota. We could begin with the military camp of Fort Snelling, which, in 1837, claimed enslaved peoples like Dred Scott at the same time that American officers negotiated bad-faith treaties with Dakota leaders. Perhaps we should mention that neither Black nor Indigenous individuals were legally considered citizens of the United States of America until 1868 and 1924, respectively, and that both groups continue to be systematically disenfranchised and discriminated against to this day.
Perhaps, though, in this month that is also meant to celebrate and uplift, we should not dwell entirely on the evils that have plagued us. Perhaps we should also take a moment to celebrate the relationships Black communities have with Uŋči Makha – our Grandmother Earth. There so are many people in our local communities working to reclaim relationships with land, natural resources, and each other. We will never have enough room to shine a light on everyone doing this work, but we want to take space in this month’s blog to talk more about a few of them:
First, the land. Across this country, Black communities have found power and stability in land ownership – as a rebuttal to redlining and housing discrimination, and as a counter-measure to food apartheid. Urban farmer Blain Snipstal writes about the theory and practice of Afro-ecology, which describes “how Black people in the U.S. can reconnect with their African or Afro-Indigenous past through traditional planting and harvesting techniques.” There are some incredible people across our state exploring just that.
According to the latest Census of Agriculture, less than 2% of farms across the United States are owned or operated by Black farmers. In Minnesota, that number is only .03%. Grand Risings Farm was started by young mother, herbalist, activist, advocate for BIPOC birthers, and farmer Zedé Harut. Owned and operated by a team of Black farmers who share “a mutual passion for food justice, collective liberation, and preservation of cultural traditions”, Grand Risings Farm is the first Black-farmer-owned CSA in Northern Minnesota. Support their work as they enter their first growing season, and follow their journey on Instagram. Grand Risings Farm is connected to the 40 Acre Co-Op, a Black-led nationwide cooperative supporting socially disadvantaged farmers. Based in Sandstone, their work focuses on ending the striking income and land ownership disparities rife in American agriculture. Let us rally around those working to make sure Black farmers are not erased from the fabric of Mni Sota.
We also want to shine a light on some of those people in the Black community who fight tirelessly for environmental justice, not only in their neighborhoods, but for all of us.
Roxxanne O’Brien is an artist and activist who has advocated for affordable housing, against police brutality, and for community-conscious development in North Minneapolis for decades. In this interview with the Minneapolis Interview Project, Roxxanne traces her upbringing and path to the work she does today, and we are struck by her words: “Black people in North Minneapolis have not had the opportunity to experience their natural resources. We have not been able to get close to the river because of the industry, polluting the area, exploiting our air, water and soil, and blocking our access.” The pollution and toxification O’Brien speaks of is due to industrial operations like the Northern Metals recycling plant located directly between North Minneapolis and the Mississippi River. After years of violations and criminal alteration of records by Northern Metals, O’Brien’s activism led to the closure of Northern Metals Shredder in Minneapolis, a $1 million penalty to the state, $600,000 to the city of Minneapolis and funding for three years of air quality monitoring.
Across the Twin Cities, other leaders mirror O’Brien’s efforts to open the door for healing in communities so often neglected and harmed by urban development. Janiece Watts and Ben Passer of St. Paul-based Fresh Energy have revolutionized conversations, action, and policy surrounding the implementation of clean energy practices, tying this industry to rent stabilization, air quality, healthcare, and, most centrally, the tenets of white supremacy and capitalism that dominate the energy industry.
Sam Grant, the executive director of MN 350, interrogates conventional notions of sustainability, arguing that it is not enough to simply push for green technologies or more efficient forms of capitalist development. Like Passer and Watts, he instead advocates for holistic, community-based approaches toward addressing climate change and ecological degradation: to fully heal the earth and ourselves, we must first acknowledge the structural racism that upholds and perpetuates systemic inequality in our communities.
And there are others still, like artist, poet, and activist Louis Alemayehu, who express the importance of community in the climate justice movement. Alemayehu has spent over fifty years in Minnesota learning from Indigenous community members, advocating for clean air and water, teaching new generations of artists, and through it all, bringing people together to honor and care for the earth.
This month, we encourage you to learn more about these individuals and their work, and take action in supporting their efforts and the efforts of other Black folks doing this powerful work for the planet. Black History Month is not just about educating ourselves on the past – but educating ourselves on the ways Black Americans are making history now. Let’s support their powerful work and lift their stories, now and into the future.