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LISTEN: Brandon Rothrock on the environment and queer identities

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Wednesday, August 14, 2024

Brandon Rothrock joins the Agents of Change in Environmental Justice podcast to discuss the intersection of the environment and LGBTQ+ identities, and emerging climate and health issues in Appalachia.Rothrock, a current fellow and a first-year geography Ph.D. student and EmPOWERment NSF Research Trainee at The Ohio State University, also talks about how geography informs who we are.The Agents of Change in Environmental Justice podcast is a biweekly podcast featuring the stories and big ideas from past and present fellows, as well as others in the field. You can see all of the past episodes here.Listen below to our discussion with Rothrock and subscribe to the podcast at iTunes or Spotify. Agents of Change in Environmental Justice · Brandon Rothrock on the environment and queer identitiesTranscript Brian BienkowskiHow are you doing?Brandon Rothrock Good. How are you?Brian Bienkowski I'm doing wonderful. And where are you today?Brandon Rothrock I am in Columbus, Ohio. It is very, very warm here today. I'm sure the same in Michigan.Brian Bienkowski Yes, we are. We are talking during a heatwave. I think the next two days are supposed to be so hot. I don't have air conditioning either. We live in the Upper Peninsula. So it's usually cold enough to not need it. But I'm already a little concerned about it.Brandon Rothrock Yeah. I am fortunate, I was talking to my... I live in sort of a half a house and my neighbor. A few months ago, our landlord wanted to cut down this really big tree in our front yard. And luckily they didn't because for some reason, some of the companies didn't want to come out because of the power lines being too close and things like that. So they didn't cut it down. So I'm so thankful that it's still up today, because it's keeping my house so cold compared to all of my other neighbors who don't have trees in their yard.Brian Bienkowski It's amazing how much of a difference it makes we have a massive birch tree. I'm looking at it right now in the front yard. And I can totally relate, it makes such a huge difference to have to have a canopy over your house like that. So I'm glad that utilities or whomever was was againstBrandon Rothrock Super fortunate.Brian Bienkowski So you are not originally from there, although that's where you're doing your work now. But I'd like to start at the beginning. So tell me about growing up in Northwest New Jersey and from what I understand, I think of New Jersey as very Hoboken and very city. But it sounds like you were in a more rural area. So tell me about growing up there.Brandon Rothrock Yeah, for sure. So I think you hit the nail on the head that most people assume New Jersey is sort of a concrete jungle, an extension of New York City, which is true in many areas of New Jersey, but not particularly where I grew up. I grew up in a really small community about two miles from the Delaware River and the Pennsylvania border. And my town is very sort of suburban, surrounded by tons of cornfields My house is just surrounded by fields on all sides, you know, used to have farm equipment clogging up some of the roads going to and from school some days. Yeah, things like that. And I would say my neighborhood was quite tight knit, it was sort of a everyone knows everyone type of atmosphere. And there was a lot of things to do outdoor wise. So we had a reservoir near my house. So we would go walking around pretty often. And I would say over time, especially during the pandemic, a lot of people have moved sort of further west from the city into my area. So the population has increased like pretty significantly. And with that, you know comes with feelings of sort of outsiders are moving in, growing pains with new housing going up and things like that. So I feel like it's an interesting time now looking back at where I grew up and how it's sort of transforming as well.Brian Bienkowski Most people you talk to have this similar experience of thinking of a place where they're there from there, they live there now that it's changing and people are moving in and I'm just wondering, where are the places where no one lives anymore? because it seems like everywhere is having this influx influx of people or were you fascinated by? Did you want to move to like a big city when you were there? Or were you pretty comfortable in that kind of environment? Um,Brandon Rothrock I would say I felt pretty comfortable. I would say we live about an hour and 15 minutes to the north of Philadelphia, and then like an hour and 15 minutes to the east, or to the west of New York. So I felt like it was a really good sweet spot, sort of like still out in the open, not too congested, but also still able to get to like Newark Airport in 40 minutes or something. I thought it was a good a good ways away.Brian Bienkowski Yeah, the East Coast is so so interconnected. And everything's so close that you're never really that far from for anywhere.Brandon Rothrock sure. Yeah. Yeah, I'm still not used to sort of driving all the way through Pennsylvania to Ohio, because you, I guess you don't think about Pennsylvania being so long, but it really is. And the distance between some of the cities and Pennsylvania, it's just very interesting to me.Brian Bienkowski So I won't tell you what people from Michigan say about your state of Ohio, because we say the same. It's very similar that oh, gosh, we have to drive through Ohio now. And it feels so long to get to here. But so you've said a couple of things shaped you in, you know, in your environmental connection and pursuit of justice that kind of came about later in your career. One was a hearing disability that that you have, and then another one was coming out as a gay man, and what was a pretty conservative community. So I was wonder if you could talk about these experiences, how they are connected to your work and activism on the Health and Environment front?Brandon Rothrock Yeah, definitely. So I would say on the hearing front, so at age two, I found that I had single sided deafness, or that I cannot hear at all out of my right ear. And I sort of still struggle with speaking about it at times, because I feel like for me, I'm in a sort of in-between space. You know, at times feeling sort of like the weight of my disability, particularly in like social settings, having sensory overload, sometimes, also, just not being able to hear I know, I remember growing up, you know, the game telephone where you whispering each other's ears, that was always sort of like a sore spot for me, because I was like, oh, people are gonna realize that I can't actually hear what they're saying on my right side. And so yeah, just like kind of weird or like going around social situations like that. But on the other hand, I feel fortunate that I have full hearing in my left ear, and that I haven't had to have cochlear implants or implants or other surgeries like other people who might have hearing disabilities have or struggle with. But again, it sort of goes back to a feeling of sometimes not feeling disabled enough. And I think that sort of drives how I think about the complexities of how people interact with the environment. But as time has gone on, I feel like my hearing disability has made me sort of more aware of my surroundings, and whether it be you know, a restaurant or out in nature, just thinking about how different people engage with their surroundings. And also thinking about accessibility to nature as well off of that. So thinking about how certain people might not be able to go in specific nature-related spaces, like hiking spaces and things like that. And I would say, then, simultaneously, going back to feeling sort of in-between growing up, was slowly realizing that I wasn't straight as well. And I feel like as you're, you know, growing up in a small, sort of conservative community, there's sort of this one path or a specific path that you're supposed to be on and sort of, you know, you're not supposed to stray from that path. And I think that also had like a particular weight to it growing up as well, just, I feel like I hadn't fully recognized my sexuality fully until I went to college where I felt like I was more able to experience you know, different people, different surroundings outside of where I grew up. And this isn't to say that there weren't other people who were out in high school at my high school specifically. But I felt like at the time, I was still trying to figure out what how I was or who I was, and sort of navigating that more conservative environment. And I would say specifically, as well, my sexuality is definitely a big driver of the work that I do, mostly because queer people are socially marginalized in everyday spaces. And this carries over to environmental spaces, or just spaces where queer people are sort of not allowed to be themselves. And I think on the health front, as well, particularly in the context of climate change. I think there really needs to be more work at the intersection of sexuality and disability and climate change.Brian Bienkowski Thanks so much for both speaking about that and bringing up that last point, because I think that's, you know, we're gonna get into some of that today, because that's what a lot of your work has been focused on. But before we, before we do that, I did want to say whenever I think of kids, you mentioned being a kid and feeling less than and I just think, don't you wish you could just reach kids and be like, it's not always you're not always gonna feel like this, Oh, my God, my heart, just thinking about people who feel different, or that they're always going to struggle, you know, it's just like, oh, gosh, you're gonna be okay. It's gonna be so much better when you get olderBrandon Rothrock For sure. Yeah, I would say it was definitely kind of odd, you know, telling my friends or something when I would have to leave school early to get an audiologist appointment or something, you know, so I guess not a lot of people go and get audiology appointments, unless there's something you know that you're monitoring with your hearing. And so yeah, it was just very interesting. So a lot of time at the ear, nose and throat doctor growing up. So.Brian Bienkowski Well, if you're anything like me, I just wanted to not be noticed. I just didn't want to be cool or not cool. I just wanted to be a wallflower. So for people like that, anything that draws attention to you as as like, "ugh, I don't think I want that." So before we get into some of that work that we mentioned, what is a moment or event that has helped shape your identity up to this point?Brandon Rothrock Yeah. So I feel like, I don't think I can pinpoint a particular moment or event because I feel that my identity or sort of coming to terms of my identity has not been a linear journey. I feel like there's times you know, where I thought to myself, "Okay, maybe I, if I'm in a new setting, I won't tell people about my sexuality, I won't tell people that I have a disability." And I feel like I have sort of a privilege in that sense, where sort of my disability is not visible, or in certain spaces as well, with my sexuality, you know, you can sort of hide it in a way. You know, maybe I could just blend in in the background, like you were mentioning. But I guess, I feel like when I take a step back, particularly thinking about my junior year in college, like, I guess I really realized that I had a support system of friends and family who, you know, would love and support me as I expected them to and just sort of took a leap with telling people about my sexuality. But I think it's important to say as well that a lot of LGBTQ people in the US are not as fortunate to have the support system in the way that I have. And there's sort of a particular danger about everyday life and coming out that I don't think many straight people sort of understand the gravity of at times. Particularly for queer people, one minute, you could be, you know, living at home having a seemingly comfortable life. And the next minute, you're sort of out on the street because your friends or family have not accepted you. So definitely thinking about that as my identity as sort of moved across different spaces and time as well.Brian Bienkowski So I want to center this, the idea of looking at kind of the environmental LGBTQ+ intersection and before we get to some of the specific research that you're and the work that you're doing, can you talk broadly about environmental impacts and the state of research on the LGBTQ+ community?Brandon Rothrock Yeah, sure. So I would say a majority of work at the intersection of environmental impacts and the LGBTQIA+ community focuses sort of on understanding vulnerability as it relates to disaster preparedness and response. So Well, I'm sure we'll get into it a little later, but some of my colleagues are out for sustainability. Vanessa Raddatz and Leo Goldsmith co-wrote a paper called "Queer and present danger." And it speaks to how disasters such as flooding, hurricanes, tornadoes, things like that sort of exacerbate existing LGBTQIA+ marginalization and inequalities. So just thinking about inequalities, more broadly, LGBTQ people are more likely to be living in poverty and dealing with economic hardship. LGBTQ communities experience higher rates of homelessness and housing insecurity than the general population. And LGBTQ+ people may experience a higher rate of mental health impacts during disasters and their street counterparts. And this might be due to the higher sort of fear, stress and anxiety that they may have in their everyday lives. And so thinking about sort of everyday life and also including disaster response, there's sort of a few drivers of discrimination and bias that Lael Goldsmith and Vanessa Raddatz write out. One of them being that there's inequitable federal disaster response programs. There's still sort of gender and sexual orientation-based discrimination evident in federal programs and as well, a change administrations can wipe away sort of executive orders or slim protections that are already afforded to LGBTQ+ people during disasters. There's also a lack of recognition of queer families during disasters. And this again, goes back to what I was saying a little bit about sort of, maybe not being able to come out or sort of shifting your queerness in different spaces. They've, it's been shown that queer couples may have to pose as siblings to prevent separation at shelters or to receive relief from FEMA. So again, that's just you know, another added sort of layer of discrimination that they might have to face, while they're already, you know, potentially vacating their homes due to a hurricane or another disaster. And a third one would definitely be the involvement of faith-based organizations in disaster relief in the US. The Salvation Army, for example, is heavily involved in disaster response, yet has been shown to be very discriminatory towards queer people. As an example, in 2008, Jennifer Gayle, who was a transgender woman, was denied entry to a Texas Salvation Army homeless shelter, and ended up having a heart attack and passing away in the street, which first responders attributed to near freezing temperatures in Texas, and also sort of related to the stress that might have occurred as she was denied entry to this homeless shelter. So thinking about that outside of disaster, there's still a large gap and sort of understanding specific instances of environmental injustice, such as pollution level or health concerns around the queer community.Brian Bienkowski Thank you so much for laying that out. You know, that last point about faith-based organizations was not something I would have thought of that is, and that example is just, obviously heart wrenching. So in your master's, master's thesis, –that was a tongue twister– in your master's thesis, you examine the perceptions of climate change and the environment for LGBTQ+ students at four large universities in relation to their sexual and place-based identity. So can you talk a little bit about what you found and what we can learn from it?Brandon Rothrock Yeah, definitely. So I interviewed and did focus groups with about 30 undergraduate students at different universities in Appalachia, specifically West Virginia University, where I was doing my master's, Appalachian State University in Virginia Tech. And I mostly found that students have very complicated experiences with their sexuality, the environment and also their future in the context of climate change. And a lot of students spoke about how their sexual identity sort of brought forth more progressive stances of the environment. And as they move sort of through college and became more exposed to climate change education, or just broadly education on the environment, they sort of realized how important the issue was, while also in a sort of a similar vein coming to terms with their sexuality. One of my interviewees, for example mentioned how, prior to coming to college, she considered herself super conservative, super straight, super, "I don't believe climate change is happening." And very, I guess, conservative viewpoints you could say. But as she came to college and started, you know, taking classes around the environment, also sort of being exposed to more queer people, she sort of realized, hey, actually, climate change does exist. And I actually consider myself a bisexual woman. So things like that was definitely coming up throughout a lot of the interviews sort of this movement through time and how they're sort of feelings and sexuality and different identities sort of matured over time, I guess you could say. I would say one thing that was really interesting as well was that for the students, it was quite difficult to pinpoint specific climate change issues in Appalachia. So a lot of students could point to, you know, climate related issues that they saw on the news or social media. I was doing interviews in the fall of 2020. And then the wildfires in California had been really bad that year, there were major category five hurricanes that hit Puerto Rico and Texas, flooding in New York City. I remember watching videos myself of you know, the subway system being completely flooded. But none of these issues were really regional specific to Appalachia, which I thought was quite interesting as well. And I would say too, the students also notice that climate change played somewhat of a role in where they'd like to live post college, so a lot of students mentioned, you know, queer enclaves like San Francisco, L.A, New York City is places to move. And this definitely connects to the idea of Metro normativity, or sort of the idea that rural queer people feel a pull towards urban environments and want to sort of move there. I think it's a little bit more complex. And not technically one way, in that sense, from the interviews that I did. It felt like students really still felt a pole to sort of the natural environment and where they grew up in Appalachia, but because of a result of economic, environmental and social factors, they just felt like perhaps they'd have more opportunities for jobs, more opportunities to, you know, sort of be themselves in some of these areas like New York City.Brian Bienkowski And I'm realizing in my second question, I fell into that cliche, although I was just completely curious, because we don't get many folks on here that grew up in a in somewhat rural environment. But I'm realizing I made that same assumption that you wanted to run to the city, right? So you've you've mentioned, this focus on the Appalachian region. And you've, you've maintained that focus, and I think it's a it's a place that we on this podcast, and in our program has been somewhat underrepresented. So I'm really happy to have you as part of this fellowship and your perspective on it. And I think most people know about kind of historical coal use and the recent phase outs of coal, but perhaps not some of the other issues that are starting to bubble up there in the region. So can you outline the current environmental and climate issues on the forefront in the Appalachian region?Brandon Rothrock Yeah, definitely. So I guess just a little bit of background, I did my bachelor's in Pennsylvania, my master's in West Virginia, and now my PhD in Ohio. So I feel like I've spent a long time, sort of in Appalachia, at least for the past 10 or so years. I think it might be worth speaking a little bit about the particular way in which coal was and still is a piece of people's identity in Appalachia, and in particular, thinking about West Virginia and Kentucky, with many people sort of shifting into the oil and gas industry more broadly, there's still a certain sort of expectation to defend those jobs or defend the heritage and livelihood associated with that line of work. And so thinking about sort of broader conversations around energy transition, it feels like sort of the national or maybe outside of Appalachia thoughts are, you know, "we need to move away from coal immediately, we need to phase out oil and gas," but to some of the people who live in Appalachia and even those who might not work in oil and gas themselves, which is why I found through some of my interviews, but might have family members or distant relatives that might work there, or work in the industry, I should say, it's like, you have to be definitely mindful that you might be sort of ripping away a piece of someone's identity when you're sort of saying those sort of broader narratives that we need to have a transition. And so yeah, I think it sort of has made people, I don't want to speak for everyone in Appalachia, but I feel like it might make some people quite upset and sort of think that sustainability equals, you know, my livelihood is gone, or it's an attack on my livelihood. And so I think it's really important to think about the way in which other people are also thinking about and theorizing as Appalachia more broadly, as well as sort of being you know, backwards, inbred, a sacrifice zone for natural resources for the rest of the country, when really corporations and government interests have caused a majority of those issues in Appalachia. And I feel like we see this quite evidently sort of now with fracking and also the ongoing opioid pandemic. It sort of removes the agency of Appalachians themselves and paints them as being helpless or unable to sort of fight back in these situations or some of the things that they face. And I would say there's still a lot of emerging literature coming out right now about sort of the emotional impacts of oil and gas, you know, thinking about pipelines, the destruction of people's property and livelihood. But there's also a lot of emerging issues around politics in Appalachia that I've been following quite closely, specifically in West Virginia. You sort of have this really stark conservative shifts going on, and a lot of the candidates for governor, in my opinion, look like they're intending to race West Virginia to the bottom as a state in the US. And yeah, if you ever have a chance to look at some of the political ads for the candidates for governor of West Virginia for this upcoming election, they are quite scary, I would have to say and I guess that's an example. One of the sort of front runners for Governor I'm not entirely sure if he made it past the primary or not, but sort of was standing in like the middle of the, you know, quintessential mountain-looking road, one way road. And this white van of migrants is what they noted, was sort of coming into West Virginia. And you see this sort of, you know, strong white conservative man throw his hand up, and is like, "Stop! California is back that way." And that was sort of the whole just of the ad. And I thought it was just really interesting to see sort of like the, again, like, insider -outsider dynamic, like "we don't want people coming into this area" sort of mentality. Yeah, that is just thinking about those issues and how they play into the current sort of political array in the US.Brian Bienkowski Well, I remember Joe Manchin years ago had an ad, and he's probably considered somewhat sane, compared to what you're talking about, but he was shooting, I forget what he was shooting, maybe it was a climate bill or something. But it was him at a gun range shooting. But you know, your comments on kind of people's embedded identities. And you know, I think there's also a fear of kind of economic uncertainty. So I live in Michigan, and everybody here where I grew up, it was all touched by the automotive industry. And of course, there's fear when you switch to something like EVs, you know, if you're a combustion engine maker, or you make parts for that, and if you drive around Detroit, and Flint, and Lansing, every, you know, all of those little industrial parks are full of car park manufacturers. I mean, there's, there's a real fear there for people's livelihoods. And I think that's why the idea of kind of a just transition and making sure people don't get left behind is so important. Definitely, the identity politics are so... they're not good. They're no fun. I think this is a good time to ask about kind of your geography training. So that is, you know, some of your education has been in geography and that informs your research. So I'm wonder if you could talk about how that is, and specifically, when we think about people's sense of place, and their place-based identities, which is maybe a term some folks don't fully understand.Brandon Rothrock Yeah, sure. So I definitely would call geography a sort of "everything all at once discipline" or a, I usually, when some of my friends ask, you know, what is geography? a lot of people think it's cartography or about making maps or using GIS. But I would say it's really the discipline of people, places and things. I mean, sort of everything you can think of, because I feel like geographers truly conduct research that touches everything, you know, you can have physical geographers who focus in hydrology, geology, geology, meteorology, all the way through the social sciences, say Women's and Gender Studies, economics, political science, anthropology, sort of geography touches all of those disciplines together. And I think what binds the disciplines together is definitely sort of just thinking about people, places and things through space. So how our spaces are envisioned, how they're constructed, and how they're actualized across different areas, and the meaning behind our spaces is definitely something that really interests me, you know, how does a mountain or a body of water influence someone's identity and how they see themselves in the world? And I feel like geography and the training that I've had in geography sort of gives you the tools to research each piece of those sort of broader, more complex questions. I would say too that geography has sort of allowed me to think about everything in systems. So how one change in a system that might not even, you might not even think on the surface sort of connects to another system, in fact does in various different ways. And I feel like we as geographers sort of connect issues that on the surface, you might not think have no connections at all.Brian Bienkowski I think I would like to go back and study geography, especially when you mentioned the mountain and body of water. I think those two examples are so poignant for me because I know so many people. I'm from Michigan, and a lot of people always want to go west and go to the mountains. There's something about that, that speaks to them. Whereas me if I'm not near a great lake, or a big body of water, it feels like I feel like I'm not at home, right because it's always it's always been so close. So I think I can really relate to that. And it sounds like such a fascinating field I'd like to...Brandon Rothrock Yeah, for sure. Yeah. I I actually came at to a geography from meteorology. I originally wanted to be studying weather and As I sort of went through some classes in undergrad, I was like, I" don't know if I really like the math or physics, that's involved with this" I was more so interested in, you know, like the connections to people on the ground, like what's happening with weather and things like that. And so, yeah, I took it my freshman year, I took a geography class called human use of the environment. And within about a week or two weeks of being there, I was like, "Okay, this is actually where I needed to be." And so I switched my major to geography, and the rest is history. Now in a PhD, so.Brian Bienkowski Nice. So in that PhD, and work beyond that, so you've mentioned kind of these looking at kind of, you know, place-based identities. And then we talked about Appalachian, like regional issues. So I'm wondering how and if you plan to study the intersection of LGBTQ+ individuals and these kinds of regional environmental issues in your research? And if so, what do you hope to learn?Brandon Rothrock Yeah, so my dissertation research is still sort of a work in progress, thinking about the plan. But I am really interested in designing a research project with queer people who are working in environmental and or social-based grassroots organizations, nonprofits, or other community-based organizations in Appalachia. And I'm sort of interested having worked in many nonprofits before sort of how their work, whether it's through activism, or through a regular sort of nine to five, influences their thoughts, not only about their queerness, but about environmental or social justice work. And so I'm really interested in sort of the mix between identity, Appalachia and energy extraction injustice. And I'm particularly looking at the Ohio River Valley between Ohio, West Virginia, and Pennsylvania, where there's been significant oil and gas build out where there has been, we're starting to see the ramp up a petrochemical build out, we're also seeing the opioid pandemic, we're also seeing sort of environmental degradation from different industries that have sort of been in Appalachia for quite some time. And we're also seeing sort of a shift to thinking about an energy future around hydrogen. So there's an Appalachian Regional Hydrogen Hub that was sort of has already gotten the green light from the federal government, which will be sited mostly in Ohio, in West Virginia and Pennsylvania. So thinking about how sort of Appalachia is still this site of extraction or like continued degradation, again, not at the hands of the people who live there, but the companies and industries that have sort of taken foot there. And so really, in my dissertation, and sort of thinking about how energy extraction as it shifts across, you know, traditional spaces or sources, such as coal towards non traditional and fracking, and how there's sort of an increasingly national international push to sustainable energy systems, and how queer people are thinking about all of those issues and envisioning a better future for themselves and for the region. And so I envision this being done with interviews, focus groups, toying around as well with perhaps doing a Photovoice project where participants would be able to, you know, have cameras and document their day to day lives in Appalachia. And I'd really like to do this sort of, on people's properties or walking interviews out in nature with people. Because my of my master's research was done fully online to do the COVID pandemic. But I'm also, again, open to conducting research in the digital space. I think, going back to my disability, it was quite helpful when I was in sort of an enclosed room on zoom with somebody where I could also have a transcript going and I could better sort of control the conversation in a way whereas I feel like perhaps walking interviews may elicit more or different emotions from the participant or myself or might give me new ideas about things going on. But I also worry about sort of like the hearing aspect of that, like there might be, you know, a well pad that's going off in the background or a giant truck carrying fracking fluid driving down the dirt road next to us as we're trying to do an interview. So thinking about sort of my disability in sort of what I'm thinking about to do with my research.Brian Bienkowski Well, the last thing you need is advice from me on your research, however, as a, as someone who used to be out in the field reporting, I can say if you can make it work for you, when you get people out in their space and something that they're maybe they're comfortable in or a place that they work in, boy, they really open up that and seems it seems to me, they always opened up a lot more than in kind of a more digital or commercial environment. So if you can make it work, and I would try to get out there and get people to open up a little more. So I know outside the academic research, you also serve as a board member for Out for Sustainability, a organization that you mentioned earlier, and you run your own website, the Inclusive Environment. So I want to know, what have you learned from this more kind of direct activism and outreach? And why do you make time for this kind of stuff, in addition to your research?Brandon Rothrock Yeah. So I would say that my mantra in life is sort of "be the difference you want to see in the world." And I feel like I can make a difference best through activism or through the spaces that I sort of work in. And I feel like, particularly moving through college, and then graduate school, I see how it has become sort of more daunting for recent graduates or people wanting to sort of switch careers to find jobs within the environmental sector. And I feel like there's sort of a lack of accessibility or sort of "pull yourself up by the bootstraps" mentality around sort of US job culture in general. And I feel like I want to be able to change that through my work. And so I do mentoring sessions, mostly to recent grads or people looking to switch into the environmental sector free of charge, and I'm sort of open with the way I've gone about my experiences, I think it's it, people find it difficult to speak with strangers about their experiences, and how they sort of got to where they are now. But I try to be as transparent as possible, even if I'm just meeting people for the first time, you know, sharing my successes and my failures in the environmental space, and how I've been able to sort of navigate different areas, whether it's academic, whether it's nonprofit, whether it's consulting, and thinking about sort of how I might have felt particular ways in particular spaces, you know, with my disability or with my sexuality, as well as a piece. And I would say, coming to Out for Sustainability. It has taught me a lot about running a nonprofit, we are a fully volunteer board of directors and we, we have two paid contractors. But other than that we do not have a director, we do not have sort of nine to five management of anything within the organization, which I think might be a little different than how other nonprofits run. And so with that comes certain challenges, it's definitely a heavy lift at times, especially with media requests, collaborations, I won't even get into sort of the finances of it all. I'm not on that working group, I focus more on the communications part. But I think it's been a super difficult but yet rewarding experience at the same time working without out for S, because I feel like we're helping to really aid the visibility of queer people and queer issues, we're helping to aid the visibility of environmental issues. And on top of that, we're also trying to aid the visibility of queer environmental issues, which is really where we sit and do most of our work. So I feel like I learn something new every day working with Out for S, but also through doing mentoring sessions.Brian Bienkowski So through both kind of your research, academic training and this activism, you've spent some time now examining the intersection of LGBTQ+ communities and the environment. So I'm wondering if you have some ways you would like to see researchers, policymakers and others better incorporate these perspectives and experiences in both research and policymaking?Brandon Rothrock Yeah, so I think it's important to make queer and LGBTQ+ people sort of central to research and policies and not sort of add them in as an afterthought. I feel like and I would say that environmental-justice-based research, particularly over the last, you know, decade, 20 years has definitely really, there have been many researchers that are trying to include LGBTQ people into research and policies pretty well. But I'd still like to see sort of more work being done in that area. Also, more research, just assessing and perhaps quantifying and qualifying environmental justice impacts on the queer community, particularly how pollution and other health related topics or indices may impacts queer livelihoods in everyday life. I feel like there's a lot of limited work being done that shows how LGBTQ people across the US and the world are impacted by environmental injustice. And I feel like there should be way more work focus on justice and equity and how queer identity intersects other identities. So race, class, gender.Brian Bienkowski I would add on the policymaking front, just some basic anti discrimination when it comes to things like you mentioned earlier, when, when people are denied accessibility in an emergency situation, we're failing, regardless of the reasoning behind that intolerance. Well, thank you so much for those perspectives, I have to ask, what are you optimistic about?Brandon Rothrock Yeah, I think I struggle to how to answer this question. Because, you know, the more I read, the more I speak with other people, particularly in an academic space, I feel like it's, it's easy to become less optimistic about the world around us and the issues that we face. And I feel like going back to my geography training, just thinking about everything sort of systems based, like, if you do x, then y, z, A, A, B, A, C, they'll all sort of, you know, occur, as well, or like simultaneously. But I think I really am most optimistic about my colleagues that are doing environmental work that are sort of laying the foundation for progressive change in the country, particularly some of my other Agents of Change fellows working in petrochemicals, and beauty products to environmental justice, and then also, all of the other board members at Out for Sustainability, we're all sort of doing really great work day to day that sort of collectively will help make a difference. And I feel like that is what really makes me more optimistic, particularly their drive continues to make me more driven in my own work.Brian Bienkowski So working in the environmental space, what is kind of the environment or nature? What does it mean to you? Like, when and how are you most happy and at peace in the in the outdoors?Brandon Rothrock Yeah, so I think my idea of nature sort of changes day to day. I would say, it might actually moreso be based on you know, where I am in the world, I think about nature as sort of being the physical world around us, you know, plants, animals, mountains, bodies of water, things like that, but also sort of the non-physical. So the emotions that I have in particular spaces, or the connections that I feel like I have to sort of the physical space. I would say, I find myself most happy around bodies of water, or more, say, with the ocean, particularly going to the shore in New Jersey, I really feel sort of connected to the world around us, when I have my feet in the sand and can feel the sun on my skin. I feel like the ocean, and particularly being fortunate to have grown up going to the Jersey Shore every year. I'll actually be going there in like 10 days from now. I'm super excited about that. But yeah, that's where I feel like I'm most connected to the environment.Brian Bienkowski Yeah, your idea of kind of depending on where you are in the world makes me think just earlier today, I was booking some travel to New York City and I find myself so excited to run in Central Park. I just love running there. And it's, it's a little Of course, I want to go to where there's trees and stuff, because it's such a concrete jungle. But um, but around here, I don't have that. I mean, I run around here, but it's not that same draw to want to run in the city. So I can totally relate to depending on what place you're at like that. Well, thank you so much for all that Brandon, I have three rapid fire questions where you can just answer with one word, or a phrase, I cannot start my day without anBrandon Rothrock allergy pill.Brian Bienkowski I feel most creative whenBrandon Rothrock I am listening to music.Brian Bienkowski This week, I am really looking forward toBrandon Rothrock trying a new restaurant.Brian Bienkowski All right, and you do not have to confine yourself to one word or a phrase here. What is the last book you read for fun?Brandon Rothrock Yeah, this might not be the last book that I read, but one that sort of sticks with me. It's called "The Island of missing trees" by Elif Shafak. It's a historical fiction about sort of love and the environment in Cyprus. I'm really big into historical fiction as of late. I don't know why.Brian Bienkowski Well, Brandon, thank you so much for, you know, enlightening us on your research and all the good work that you're doing. I'm really happy to have you in this program and we'll have you on again soon.Brandon Rothrock Sounds great. Thanks.

Brandon Rothrock joins the Agents of Change in Environmental Justice podcast to discuss the intersection of the environment and LGBTQ+ identities, and emerging climate and health issues in Appalachia.Rothrock, a current fellow and a first-year geography Ph.D. student and EmPOWERment NSF Research Trainee at The Ohio State University, also talks about how geography informs who we are.The Agents of Change in Environmental Justice podcast is a biweekly podcast featuring the stories and big ideas from past and present fellows, as well as others in the field. You can see all of the past episodes here.Listen below to our discussion with Rothrock and subscribe to the podcast at iTunes or Spotify. Agents of Change in Environmental Justice · Brandon Rothrock on the environment and queer identitiesTranscript Brian BienkowskiHow are you doing?Brandon Rothrock Good. How are you?Brian Bienkowski I'm doing wonderful. And where are you today?Brandon Rothrock I am in Columbus, Ohio. It is very, very warm here today. I'm sure the same in Michigan.Brian Bienkowski Yes, we are. We are talking during a heatwave. I think the next two days are supposed to be so hot. I don't have air conditioning either. We live in the Upper Peninsula. So it's usually cold enough to not need it. But I'm already a little concerned about it.Brandon Rothrock Yeah. I am fortunate, I was talking to my... I live in sort of a half a house and my neighbor. A few months ago, our landlord wanted to cut down this really big tree in our front yard. And luckily they didn't because for some reason, some of the companies didn't want to come out because of the power lines being too close and things like that. So they didn't cut it down. So I'm so thankful that it's still up today, because it's keeping my house so cold compared to all of my other neighbors who don't have trees in their yard.Brian Bienkowski It's amazing how much of a difference it makes we have a massive birch tree. I'm looking at it right now in the front yard. And I can totally relate, it makes such a huge difference to have to have a canopy over your house like that. So I'm glad that utilities or whomever was was againstBrandon Rothrock Super fortunate.Brian Bienkowski So you are not originally from there, although that's where you're doing your work now. But I'd like to start at the beginning. So tell me about growing up in Northwest New Jersey and from what I understand, I think of New Jersey as very Hoboken and very city. But it sounds like you were in a more rural area. So tell me about growing up there.Brandon Rothrock Yeah, for sure. So I think you hit the nail on the head that most people assume New Jersey is sort of a concrete jungle, an extension of New York City, which is true in many areas of New Jersey, but not particularly where I grew up. I grew up in a really small community about two miles from the Delaware River and the Pennsylvania border. And my town is very sort of suburban, surrounded by tons of cornfields My house is just surrounded by fields on all sides, you know, used to have farm equipment clogging up some of the roads going to and from school some days. Yeah, things like that. And I would say my neighborhood was quite tight knit, it was sort of a everyone knows everyone type of atmosphere. And there was a lot of things to do outdoor wise. So we had a reservoir near my house. So we would go walking around pretty often. And I would say over time, especially during the pandemic, a lot of people have moved sort of further west from the city into my area. So the population has increased like pretty significantly. And with that, you know comes with feelings of sort of outsiders are moving in, growing pains with new housing going up and things like that. So I feel like it's an interesting time now looking back at where I grew up and how it's sort of transforming as well.Brian Bienkowski Most people you talk to have this similar experience of thinking of a place where they're there from there, they live there now that it's changing and people are moving in and I'm just wondering, where are the places where no one lives anymore? because it seems like everywhere is having this influx influx of people or were you fascinated by? Did you want to move to like a big city when you were there? Or were you pretty comfortable in that kind of environment? Um,Brandon Rothrock I would say I felt pretty comfortable. I would say we live about an hour and 15 minutes to the north of Philadelphia, and then like an hour and 15 minutes to the east, or to the west of New York. So I felt like it was a really good sweet spot, sort of like still out in the open, not too congested, but also still able to get to like Newark Airport in 40 minutes or something. I thought it was a good a good ways away.Brian Bienkowski Yeah, the East Coast is so so interconnected. And everything's so close that you're never really that far from for anywhere.Brandon Rothrock sure. Yeah. Yeah, I'm still not used to sort of driving all the way through Pennsylvania to Ohio, because you, I guess you don't think about Pennsylvania being so long, but it really is. And the distance between some of the cities and Pennsylvania, it's just very interesting to me.Brian Bienkowski So I won't tell you what people from Michigan say about your state of Ohio, because we say the same. It's very similar that oh, gosh, we have to drive through Ohio now. And it feels so long to get to here. But so you've said a couple of things shaped you in, you know, in your environmental connection and pursuit of justice that kind of came about later in your career. One was a hearing disability that that you have, and then another one was coming out as a gay man, and what was a pretty conservative community. So I was wonder if you could talk about these experiences, how they are connected to your work and activism on the Health and Environment front?Brandon Rothrock Yeah, definitely. So I would say on the hearing front, so at age two, I found that I had single sided deafness, or that I cannot hear at all out of my right ear. And I sort of still struggle with speaking about it at times, because I feel like for me, I'm in a sort of in-between space. You know, at times feeling sort of like the weight of my disability, particularly in like social settings, having sensory overload, sometimes, also, just not being able to hear I know, I remember growing up, you know, the game telephone where you whispering each other's ears, that was always sort of like a sore spot for me, because I was like, oh, people are gonna realize that I can't actually hear what they're saying on my right side. And so yeah, just like kind of weird or like going around social situations like that. But on the other hand, I feel fortunate that I have full hearing in my left ear, and that I haven't had to have cochlear implants or implants or other surgeries like other people who might have hearing disabilities have or struggle with. But again, it sort of goes back to a feeling of sometimes not feeling disabled enough. And I think that sort of drives how I think about the complexities of how people interact with the environment. But as time has gone on, I feel like my hearing disability has made me sort of more aware of my surroundings, and whether it be you know, a restaurant or out in nature, just thinking about how different people engage with their surroundings. And also thinking about accessibility to nature as well off of that. So thinking about how certain people might not be able to go in specific nature-related spaces, like hiking spaces and things like that. And I would say, then, simultaneously, going back to feeling sort of in-between growing up, was slowly realizing that I wasn't straight as well. And I feel like as you're, you know, growing up in a small, sort of conservative community, there's sort of this one path or a specific path that you're supposed to be on and sort of, you know, you're not supposed to stray from that path. And I think that also had like a particular weight to it growing up as well, just, I feel like I hadn't fully recognized my sexuality fully until I went to college where I felt like I was more able to experience you know, different people, different surroundings outside of where I grew up. And this isn't to say that there weren't other people who were out in high school at my high school specifically. But I felt like at the time, I was still trying to figure out what how I was or who I was, and sort of navigating that more conservative environment. And I would say specifically, as well, my sexuality is definitely a big driver of the work that I do, mostly because queer people are socially marginalized in everyday spaces. And this carries over to environmental spaces, or just spaces where queer people are sort of not allowed to be themselves. And I think on the health front, as well, particularly in the context of climate change. I think there really needs to be more work at the intersection of sexuality and disability and climate change.Brian Bienkowski Thanks so much for both speaking about that and bringing up that last point, because I think that's, you know, we're gonna get into some of that today, because that's what a lot of your work has been focused on. But before we, before we do that, I did want to say whenever I think of kids, you mentioned being a kid and feeling less than and I just think, don't you wish you could just reach kids and be like, it's not always you're not always gonna feel like this, Oh, my God, my heart, just thinking about people who feel different, or that they're always going to struggle, you know, it's just like, oh, gosh, you're gonna be okay. It's gonna be so much better when you get olderBrandon Rothrock For sure. Yeah, I would say it was definitely kind of odd, you know, telling my friends or something when I would have to leave school early to get an audiologist appointment or something, you know, so I guess not a lot of people go and get audiology appointments, unless there's something you know that you're monitoring with your hearing. And so yeah, it was just very interesting. So a lot of time at the ear, nose and throat doctor growing up. So.Brian Bienkowski Well, if you're anything like me, I just wanted to not be noticed. I just didn't want to be cool or not cool. I just wanted to be a wallflower. So for people like that, anything that draws attention to you as as like, "ugh, I don't think I want that." So before we get into some of that work that we mentioned, what is a moment or event that has helped shape your identity up to this point?Brandon Rothrock Yeah. So I feel like, I don't think I can pinpoint a particular moment or event because I feel that my identity or sort of coming to terms of my identity has not been a linear journey. I feel like there's times you know, where I thought to myself, "Okay, maybe I, if I'm in a new setting, I won't tell people about my sexuality, I won't tell people that I have a disability." And I feel like I have sort of a privilege in that sense, where sort of my disability is not visible, or in certain spaces as well, with my sexuality, you know, you can sort of hide it in a way. You know, maybe I could just blend in in the background, like you were mentioning. But I guess, I feel like when I take a step back, particularly thinking about my junior year in college, like, I guess I really realized that I had a support system of friends and family who, you know, would love and support me as I expected them to and just sort of took a leap with telling people about my sexuality. But I think it's important to say as well that a lot of LGBTQ people in the US are not as fortunate to have the support system in the way that I have. And there's sort of a particular danger about everyday life and coming out that I don't think many straight people sort of understand the gravity of at times. Particularly for queer people, one minute, you could be, you know, living at home having a seemingly comfortable life. And the next minute, you're sort of out on the street because your friends or family have not accepted you. So definitely thinking about that as my identity as sort of moved across different spaces and time as well.Brian Bienkowski So I want to center this, the idea of looking at kind of the environmental LGBTQ+ intersection and before we get to some of the specific research that you're and the work that you're doing, can you talk broadly about environmental impacts and the state of research on the LGBTQ+ community?Brandon Rothrock Yeah, sure. So I would say a majority of work at the intersection of environmental impacts and the LGBTQIA+ community focuses sort of on understanding vulnerability as it relates to disaster preparedness and response. So Well, I'm sure we'll get into it a little later, but some of my colleagues are out for sustainability. Vanessa Raddatz and Leo Goldsmith co-wrote a paper called "Queer and present danger." And it speaks to how disasters such as flooding, hurricanes, tornadoes, things like that sort of exacerbate existing LGBTQIA+ marginalization and inequalities. So just thinking about inequalities, more broadly, LGBTQ people are more likely to be living in poverty and dealing with economic hardship. LGBTQ communities experience higher rates of homelessness and housing insecurity than the general population. And LGBTQ+ people may experience a higher rate of mental health impacts during disasters and their street counterparts. And this might be due to the higher sort of fear, stress and anxiety that they may have in their everyday lives. And so thinking about sort of everyday life and also including disaster response, there's sort of a few drivers of discrimination and bias that Lael Goldsmith and Vanessa Raddatz write out. One of them being that there's inequitable federal disaster response programs. There's still sort of gender and sexual orientation-based discrimination evident in federal programs and as well, a change administrations can wipe away sort of executive orders or slim protections that are already afforded to LGBTQ+ people during disasters. There's also a lack of recognition of queer families during disasters. And this again, goes back to what I was saying a little bit about sort of, maybe not being able to come out or sort of shifting your queerness in different spaces. They've, it's been shown that queer couples may have to pose as siblings to prevent separation at shelters or to receive relief from FEMA. So again, that's just you know, another added sort of layer of discrimination that they might have to face, while they're already, you know, potentially vacating their homes due to a hurricane or another disaster. And a third one would definitely be the involvement of faith-based organizations in disaster relief in the US. The Salvation Army, for example, is heavily involved in disaster response, yet has been shown to be very discriminatory towards queer people. As an example, in 2008, Jennifer Gayle, who was a transgender woman, was denied entry to a Texas Salvation Army homeless shelter, and ended up having a heart attack and passing away in the street, which first responders attributed to near freezing temperatures in Texas, and also sort of related to the stress that might have occurred as she was denied entry to this homeless shelter. So thinking about that outside of disaster, there's still a large gap and sort of understanding specific instances of environmental injustice, such as pollution level or health concerns around the queer community.Brian Bienkowski Thank you so much for laying that out. You know, that last point about faith-based organizations was not something I would have thought of that is, and that example is just, obviously heart wrenching. So in your master's, master's thesis, –that was a tongue twister– in your master's thesis, you examine the perceptions of climate change and the environment for LGBTQ+ students at four large universities in relation to their sexual and place-based identity. So can you talk a little bit about what you found and what we can learn from it?Brandon Rothrock Yeah, definitely. So I interviewed and did focus groups with about 30 undergraduate students at different universities in Appalachia, specifically West Virginia University, where I was doing my master's, Appalachian State University in Virginia Tech. And I mostly found that students have very complicated experiences with their sexuality, the environment and also their future in the context of climate change. And a lot of students spoke about how their sexual identity sort of brought forth more progressive stances of the environment. And as they move sort of through college and became more exposed to climate change education, or just broadly education on the environment, they sort of realized how important the issue was, while also in a sort of a similar vein coming to terms with their sexuality. One of my interviewees, for example mentioned how, prior to coming to college, she considered herself super conservative, super straight, super, "I don't believe climate change is happening." And very, I guess, conservative viewpoints you could say. But as she came to college and started, you know, taking classes around the environment, also sort of being exposed to more queer people, she sort of realized, hey, actually, climate change does exist. And I actually consider myself a bisexual woman. So things like that was definitely coming up throughout a lot of the interviews sort of this movement through time and how they're sort of feelings and sexuality and different identities sort of matured over time, I guess you could say. I would say one thing that was really interesting as well was that for the students, it was quite difficult to pinpoint specific climate change issues in Appalachia. So a lot of students could point to, you know, climate related issues that they saw on the news or social media. I was doing interviews in the fall of 2020. And then the wildfires in California had been really bad that year, there were major category five hurricanes that hit Puerto Rico and Texas, flooding in New York City. I remember watching videos myself of you know, the subway system being completely flooded. But none of these issues were really regional specific to Appalachia, which I thought was quite interesting as well. And I would say too, the students also notice that climate change played somewhat of a role in where they'd like to live post college, so a lot of students mentioned, you know, queer enclaves like San Francisco, L.A, New York City is places to move. And this definitely connects to the idea of Metro normativity, or sort of the idea that rural queer people feel a pull towards urban environments and want to sort of move there. I think it's a little bit more complex. And not technically one way, in that sense, from the interviews that I did. It felt like students really still felt a pole to sort of the natural environment and where they grew up in Appalachia, but because of a result of economic, environmental and social factors, they just felt like perhaps they'd have more opportunities for jobs, more opportunities to, you know, sort of be themselves in some of these areas like New York City.Brian Bienkowski And I'm realizing in my second question, I fell into that cliche, although I was just completely curious, because we don't get many folks on here that grew up in a in somewhat rural environment. But I'm realizing I made that same assumption that you wanted to run to the city, right? So you've you've mentioned, this focus on the Appalachian region. And you've, you've maintained that focus, and I think it's a it's a place that we on this podcast, and in our program has been somewhat underrepresented. So I'm really happy to have you as part of this fellowship and your perspective on it. And I think most people know about kind of historical coal use and the recent phase outs of coal, but perhaps not some of the other issues that are starting to bubble up there in the region. So can you outline the current environmental and climate issues on the forefront in the Appalachian region?Brandon Rothrock Yeah, definitely. So I guess just a little bit of background, I did my bachelor's in Pennsylvania, my master's in West Virginia, and now my PhD in Ohio. So I feel like I've spent a long time, sort of in Appalachia, at least for the past 10 or so years. I think it might be worth speaking a little bit about the particular way in which coal was and still is a piece of people's identity in Appalachia, and in particular, thinking about West Virginia and Kentucky, with many people sort of shifting into the oil and gas industry more broadly, there's still a certain sort of expectation to defend those jobs or defend the heritage and livelihood associated with that line of work. And so thinking about sort of broader conversations around energy transition, it feels like sort of the national or maybe outside of Appalachia thoughts are, you know, "we need to move away from coal immediately, we need to phase out oil and gas," but to some of the people who live in Appalachia and even those who might not work in oil and gas themselves, which is why I found through some of my interviews, but might have family members or distant relatives that might work there, or work in the industry, I should say, it's like, you have to be definitely mindful that you might be sort of ripping away a piece of someone's identity when you're sort of saying those sort of broader narratives that we need to have a transition. And so yeah, I think it sort of has made people, I don't want to speak for everyone in Appalachia, but I feel like it might make some people quite upset and sort of think that sustainability equals, you know, my livelihood is gone, or it's an attack on my livelihood. And so I think it's really important to think about the way in which other people are also thinking about and theorizing as Appalachia more broadly, as well as sort of being you know, backwards, inbred, a sacrifice zone for natural resources for the rest of the country, when really corporations and government interests have caused a majority of those issues in Appalachia. And I feel like we see this quite evidently sort of now with fracking and also the ongoing opioid pandemic. It sort of removes the agency of Appalachians themselves and paints them as being helpless or unable to sort of fight back in these situations or some of the things that they face. And I would say there's still a lot of emerging literature coming out right now about sort of the emotional impacts of oil and gas, you know, thinking about pipelines, the destruction of people's property and livelihood. But there's also a lot of emerging issues around politics in Appalachia that I've been following quite closely, specifically in West Virginia. You sort of have this really stark conservative shifts going on, and a lot of the candidates for governor, in my opinion, look like they're intending to race West Virginia to the bottom as a state in the US. And yeah, if you ever have a chance to look at some of the political ads for the candidates for governor of West Virginia for this upcoming election, they are quite scary, I would have to say and I guess that's an example. One of the sort of front runners for Governor I'm not entirely sure if he made it past the primary or not, but sort of was standing in like the middle of the, you know, quintessential mountain-looking road, one way road. And this white van of migrants is what they noted, was sort of coming into West Virginia. And you see this sort of, you know, strong white conservative man throw his hand up, and is like, "Stop! California is back that way." And that was sort of the whole just of the ad. And I thought it was just really interesting to see sort of like the, again, like, insider -outsider dynamic, like "we don't want people coming into this area" sort of mentality. Yeah, that is just thinking about those issues and how they play into the current sort of political array in the US.Brian Bienkowski Well, I remember Joe Manchin years ago had an ad, and he's probably considered somewhat sane, compared to what you're talking about, but he was shooting, I forget what he was shooting, maybe it was a climate bill or something. But it was him at a gun range shooting. But you know, your comments on kind of people's embedded identities. And you know, I think there's also a fear of kind of economic uncertainty. So I live in Michigan, and everybody here where I grew up, it was all touched by the automotive industry. And of course, there's fear when you switch to something like EVs, you know, if you're a combustion engine maker, or you make parts for that, and if you drive around Detroit, and Flint, and Lansing, every, you know, all of those little industrial parks are full of car park manufacturers. I mean, there's, there's a real fear there for people's livelihoods. And I think that's why the idea of kind of a just transition and making sure people don't get left behind is so important. Definitely, the identity politics are so... they're not good. They're no fun. I think this is a good time to ask about kind of your geography training. So that is, you know, some of your education has been in geography and that informs your research. So I'm wonder if you could talk about how that is, and specifically, when we think about people's sense of place, and their place-based identities, which is maybe a term some folks don't fully understand.Brandon Rothrock Yeah, sure. So I definitely would call geography a sort of "everything all at once discipline" or a, I usually, when some of my friends ask, you know, what is geography? a lot of people think it's cartography or about making maps or using GIS. But I would say it's really the discipline of people, places and things. I mean, sort of everything you can think of, because I feel like geographers truly conduct research that touches everything, you know, you can have physical geographers who focus in hydrology, geology, geology, meteorology, all the way through the social sciences, say Women's and Gender Studies, economics, political science, anthropology, sort of geography touches all of those disciplines together. And I think what binds the disciplines together is definitely sort of just thinking about people, places and things through space. So how our spaces are envisioned, how they're constructed, and how they're actualized across different areas, and the meaning behind our spaces is definitely something that really interests me, you know, how does a mountain or a body of water influence someone's identity and how they see themselves in the world? And I feel like geography and the training that I've had in geography sort of gives you the tools to research each piece of those sort of broader, more complex questions. I would say too that geography has sort of allowed me to think about everything in systems. So how one change in a system that might not even, you might not even think on the surface sort of connects to another system, in fact does in various different ways. And I feel like we as geographers sort of connect issues that on the surface, you might not think have no connections at all.Brian Bienkowski I think I would like to go back and study geography, especially when you mentioned the mountain and body of water. I think those two examples are so poignant for me because I know so many people. I'm from Michigan, and a lot of people always want to go west and go to the mountains. There's something about that, that speaks to them. Whereas me if I'm not near a great lake, or a big body of water, it feels like I feel like I'm not at home, right because it's always it's always been so close. So I think I can really relate to that. And it sounds like such a fascinating field I'd like to...Brandon Rothrock Yeah, for sure. Yeah. I I actually came at to a geography from meteorology. I originally wanted to be studying weather and As I sort of went through some classes in undergrad, I was like, I" don't know if I really like the math or physics, that's involved with this" I was more so interested in, you know, like the connections to people on the ground, like what's happening with weather and things like that. And so, yeah, I took it my freshman year, I took a geography class called human use of the environment. And within about a week or two weeks of being there, I was like, "Okay, this is actually where I needed to be." And so I switched my major to geography, and the rest is history. Now in a PhD, so.Brian Bienkowski Nice. So in that PhD, and work beyond that, so you've mentioned kind of these looking at kind of, you know, place-based identities. And then we talked about Appalachian, like regional issues. So I'm wondering how and if you plan to study the intersection of LGBTQ+ individuals and these kinds of regional environmental issues in your research? And if so, what do you hope to learn?Brandon Rothrock Yeah, so my dissertation research is still sort of a work in progress, thinking about the plan. But I am really interested in designing a research project with queer people who are working in environmental and or social-based grassroots organizations, nonprofits, or other community-based organizations in Appalachia. And I'm sort of interested having worked in many nonprofits before sort of how their work, whether it's through activism, or through a regular sort of nine to five, influences their thoughts, not only about their queerness, but about environmental or social justice work. And so I'm really interested in sort of the mix between identity, Appalachia and energy extraction injustice. And I'm particularly looking at the Ohio River Valley between Ohio, West Virginia, and Pennsylvania, where there's been significant oil and gas build out where there has been, we're starting to see the ramp up a petrochemical build out, we're also seeing the opioid pandemic, we're also seeing sort of environmental degradation from different industries that have sort of been in Appalachia for quite some time. And we're also seeing sort of a shift to thinking about an energy future around hydrogen. So there's an Appalachian Regional Hydrogen Hub that was sort of has already gotten the green light from the federal government, which will be sited mostly in Ohio, in West Virginia and Pennsylvania. So thinking about how sort of Appalachia is still this site of extraction or like continued degradation, again, not at the hands of the people who live there, but the companies and industries that have sort of taken foot there. And so really, in my dissertation, and sort of thinking about how energy extraction as it shifts across, you know, traditional spaces or sources, such as coal towards non traditional and fracking, and how there's sort of an increasingly national international push to sustainable energy systems, and how queer people are thinking about all of those issues and envisioning a better future for themselves and for the region. And so I envision this being done with interviews, focus groups, toying around as well with perhaps doing a Photovoice project where participants would be able to, you know, have cameras and document their day to day lives in Appalachia. And I'd really like to do this sort of, on people's properties or walking interviews out in nature with people. Because my of my master's research was done fully online to do the COVID pandemic. But I'm also, again, open to conducting research in the digital space. I think, going back to my disability, it was quite helpful when I was in sort of an enclosed room on zoom with somebody where I could also have a transcript going and I could better sort of control the conversation in a way whereas I feel like perhaps walking interviews may elicit more or different emotions from the participant or myself or might give me new ideas about things going on. But I also worry about sort of like the hearing aspect of that, like there might be, you know, a well pad that's going off in the background or a giant truck carrying fracking fluid driving down the dirt road next to us as we're trying to do an interview. So thinking about sort of my disability in sort of what I'm thinking about to do with my research.Brian Bienkowski Well, the last thing you need is advice from me on your research, however, as a, as someone who used to be out in the field reporting, I can say if you can make it work for you, when you get people out in their space and something that they're maybe they're comfortable in or a place that they work in, boy, they really open up that and seems it seems to me, they always opened up a lot more than in kind of a more digital or commercial environment. So if you can make it work, and I would try to get out there and get people to open up a little more. So I know outside the academic research, you also serve as a board member for Out for Sustainability, a organization that you mentioned earlier, and you run your own website, the Inclusive Environment. So I want to know, what have you learned from this more kind of direct activism and outreach? And why do you make time for this kind of stuff, in addition to your research?Brandon Rothrock Yeah. So I would say that my mantra in life is sort of "be the difference you want to see in the world." And I feel like I can make a difference best through activism or through the spaces that I sort of work in. And I feel like, particularly moving through college, and then graduate school, I see how it has become sort of more daunting for recent graduates or people wanting to sort of switch careers to find jobs within the environmental sector. And I feel like there's sort of a lack of accessibility or sort of "pull yourself up by the bootstraps" mentality around sort of US job culture in general. And I feel like I want to be able to change that through my work. And so I do mentoring sessions, mostly to recent grads or people looking to switch into the environmental sector free of charge, and I'm sort of open with the way I've gone about my experiences, I think it's it, people find it difficult to speak with strangers about their experiences, and how they sort of got to where they are now. But I try to be as transparent as possible, even if I'm just meeting people for the first time, you know, sharing my successes and my failures in the environmental space, and how I've been able to sort of navigate different areas, whether it's academic, whether it's nonprofit, whether it's consulting, and thinking about sort of how I might have felt particular ways in particular spaces, you know, with my disability or with my sexuality, as well as a piece. And I would say, coming to Out for Sustainability. It has taught me a lot about running a nonprofit, we are a fully volunteer board of directors and we, we have two paid contractors. But other than that we do not have a director, we do not have sort of nine to five management of anything within the organization, which I think might be a little different than how other nonprofits run. And so with that comes certain challenges, it's definitely a heavy lift at times, especially with media requests, collaborations, I won't even get into sort of the finances of it all. I'm not on that working group, I focus more on the communications part. But I think it's been a super difficult but yet rewarding experience at the same time working without out for S, because I feel like we're helping to really aid the visibility of queer people and queer issues, we're helping to aid the visibility of environmental issues. And on top of that, we're also trying to aid the visibility of queer environmental issues, which is really where we sit and do most of our work. So I feel like I learn something new every day working with Out for S, but also through doing mentoring sessions.Brian Bienkowski So through both kind of your research, academic training and this activism, you've spent some time now examining the intersection of LGBTQ+ communities and the environment. So I'm wondering if you have some ways you would like to see researchers, policymakers and others better incorporate these perspectives and experiences in both research and policymaking?Brandon Rothrock Yeah, so I think it's important to make queer and LGBTQ+ people sort of central to research and policies and not sort of add them in as an afterthought. I feel like and I would say that environmental-justice-based research, particularly over the last, you know, decade, 20 years has definitely really, there have been many researchers that are trying to include LGBTQ people into research and policies pretty well. But I'd still like to see sort of more work being done in that area. Also, more research, just assessing and perhaps quantifying and qualifying environmental justice impacts on the queer community, particularly how pollution and other health related topics or indices may impacts queer livelihoods in everyday life. I feel like there's a lot of limited work being done that shows how LGBTQ people across the US and the world are impacted by environmental injustice. And I feel like there should be way more work focus on justice and equity and how queer identity intersects other identities. So race, class, gender.Brian Bienkowski I would add on the policymaking front, just some basic anti discrimination when it comes to things like you mentioned earlier, when, when people are denied accessibility in an emergency situation, we're failing, regardless of the reasoning behind that intolerance. Well, thank you so much for those perspectives, I have to ask, what are you optimistic about?Brandon Rothrock Yeah, I think I struggle to how to answer this question. Because, you know, the more I read, the more I speak with other people, particularly in an academic space, I feel like it's, it's easy to become less optimistic about the world around us and the issues that we face. And I feel like going back to my geography training, just thinking about everything sort of systems based, like, if you do x, then y, z, A, A, B, A, C, they'll all sort of, you know, occur, as well, or like simultaneously. But I think I really am most optimistic about my colleagues that are doing environmental work that are sort of laying the foundation for progressive change in the country, particularly some of my other Agents of Change fellows working in petrochemicals, and beauty products to environmental justice, and then also, all of the other board members at Out for Sustainability, we're all sort of doing really great work day to day that sort of collectively will help make a difference. And I feel like that is what really makes me more optimistic, particularly their drive continues to make me more driven in my own work.Brian Bienkowski So working in the environmental space, what is kind of the environment or nature? What does it mean to you? Like, when and how are you most happy and at peace in the in the outdoors?Brandon Rothrock Yeah, so I think my idea of nature sort of changes day to day. I would say, it might actually moreso be based on you know, where I am in the world, I think about nature as sort of being the physical world around us, you know, plants, animals, mountains, bodies of water, things like that, but also sort of the non-physical. So the emotions that I have in particular spaces, or the connections that I feel like I have to sort of the physical space. I would say, I find myself most happy around bodies of water, or more, say, with the ocean, particularly going to the shore in New Jersey, I really feel sort of connected to the world around us, when I have my feet in the sand and can feel the sun on my skin. I feel like the ocean, and particularly being fortunate to have grown up going to the Jersey Shore every year. I'll actually be going there in like 10 days from now. I'm super excited about that. But yeah, that's where I feel like I'm most connected to the environment.Brian Bienkowski Yeah, your idea of kind of depending on where you are in the world makes me think just earlier today, I was booking some travel to New York City and I find myself so excited to run in Central Park. I just love running there. And it's, it's a little Of course, I want to go to where there's trees and stuff, because it's such a concrete jungle. But um, but around here, I don't have that. I mean, I run around here, but it's not that same draw to want to run in the city. So I can totally relate to depending on what place you're at like that. Well, thank you so much for all that Brandon, I have three rapid fire questions where you can just answer with one word, or a phrase, I cannot start my day without anBrandon Rothrock allergy pill.Brian Bienkowski I feel most creative whenBrandon Rothrock I am listening to music.Brian Bienkowski This week, I am really looking forward toBrandon Rothrock trying a new restaurant.Brian Bienkowski All right, and you do not have to confine yourself to one word or a phrase here. What is the last book you read for fun?Brandon Rothrock Yeah, this might not be the last book that I read, but one that sort of sticks with me. It's called "The Island of missing trees" by Elif Shafak. It's a historical fiction about sort of love and the environment in Cyprus. I'm really big into historical fiction as of late. I don't know why.Brian Bienkowski Well, Brandon, thank you so much for, you know, enlightening us on your research and all the good work that you're doing. I'm really happy to have you in this program and we'll have you on again soon.Brandon Rothrock Sounds great. Thanks.



Brandon Rothrock joins the Agents of Change in Environmental Justice podcast to discuss the intersection of the environment and LGBTQ+ identities, and emerging climate and health issues in Appalachia.


Rothrock, a current fellow and a first-year geography Ph.D. student and EmPOWERment NSF Research Trainee at The Ohio State University, also talks about how geography informs who we are.

The Agents of Change in Environmental Justice podcast is a biweekly podcast featuring the stories and big ideas from past and present fellows, as well as others in the field. You can see all of the past episodes here.

Listen below to our discussion with Rothrock and subscribe to the podcast at iTunes or Spotify.


Agents of Change in Environmental Justice · Brandon Rothrock on the environment and queer identities

Transcript 


Brian Bienkowski

How are you doing?

Brandon Rothrock

Good. How are you?

Brian Bienkowski

I'm doing wonderful. And where are you today?

Brandon Rothrock

I am in Columbus, Ohio. It is very, very warm here today. I'm sure the same in Michigan.

Brian Bienkowski

Yes, we are. We are talking during a heatwave. I think the next two days are supposed to be so hot. I don't have air conditioning either. We live in the Upper Peninsula. So it's usually cold enough to not need it. But I'm already a little concerned about it.

Brandon Rothrock

Yeah. I am fortunate, I was talking to my... I live in sort of a half a house and my neighbor. A few months ago, our landlord wanted to cut down this really big tree in our front yard. And luckily they didn't because for some reason, some of the companies didn't want to come out because of the power lines being too close and things like that. So they didn't cut it down. So I'm so thankful that it's still up today, because it's keeping my house so cold compared to all of my other neighbors who don't have trees in their yard.

Brian Bienkowski

It's amazing how much of a difference it makes we have a massive birch tree. I'm looking at it right now in the front yard. And I can totally relate, it makes such a huge difference to have to have a canopy over your house like that. So I'm glad that utilities or whomever was was against

Brandon Rothrock

Super fortunate.

Brian Bienkowski

So you are not originally from there, although that's where you're doing your work now. But I'd like to start at the beginning. So tell me about growing up in Northwest New Jersey and from what I understand, I think of New Jersey as very Hoboken and very city. But it sounds like you were in a more rural area. So tell me about growing up there.

Brandon Rothrock

Yeah, for sure. So I think you hit the nail on the head that most people assume New Jersey is sort of a concrete jungle, an extension of New York City, which is true in many areas of New Jersey, but not particularly where I grew up. I grew up in a really small community about two miles from the Delaware River and the Pennsylvania border. And my town is very sort of suburban, surrounded by tons of cornfields My house is just surrounded by fields on all sides, you know, used to have farm equipment clogging up some of the roads going to and from school some days. Yeah, things like that. And I would say my neighborhood was quite tight knit, it was sort of a everyone knows everyone type of atmosphere. And there was a lot of things to do outdoor wise. So we had a reservoir near my house. So we would go walking around pretty often. And I would say over time, especially during the pandemic, a lot of people have moved sort of further west from the city into my area. So the population has increased like pretty significantly. And with that, you know comes with feelings of sort of outsiders are moving in, growing pains with new housing going up and things like that. So I feel like it's an interesting time now looking back at where I grew up and how it's sort of transforming as well.

Brian Bienkowski

Most people you talk to have this similar experience of thinking of a place where they're there from there, they live there now that it's changing and people are moving in and I'm just wondering, where are the places where no one lives anymore? because it seems like everywhere is having this influx influx of people or were you fascinated by? Did you want to move to like a big city when you were there? Or were you pretty comfortable in that kind of environment? Um,

Brandon Rothrock

I would say I felt pretty comfortable. I would say we live about an hour and 15 minutes to the north of Philadelphia, and then like an hour and 15 minutes to the east, or to the west of New York. So I felt like it was a really good sweet spot, sort of like still out in the open, not too congested, but also still able to get to like Newark Airport in 40 minutes or something. I thought it was a good a good ways away.

Brian Bienkowski

Yeah, the East Coast is so so interconnected. And everything's so close that you're never really that far from for anywhere.

Brandon Rothrock

sure. Yeah. Yeah, I'm still not used to sort of driving all the way through Pennsylvania to Ohio, because you, I guess you don't think about Pennsylvania being so long, but it really is. And the distance between some of the cities and Pennsylvania, it's just very interesting to me.

Brian Bienkowski

So I won't tell you what people from Michigan say about your state of Ohio, because we say the same. It's very similar that oh, gosh, we have to drive through Ohio now. And it feels so long to get to here. But so you've said a couple of things shaped you in, you know, in your environmental connection and pursuit of justice that kind of came about later in your career. One was a hearing disability that that you have, and then another one was coming out as a gay man, and what was a pretty conservative community. So I was wonder if you could talk about these experiences, how they are connected to your work and activism on the Health and Environment front?

Brandon Rothrock

Yeah, definitely. So I would say on the hearing front, so at age two, I found that I had single sided deafness, or that I cannot hear at all out of my right ear. And I sort of still struggle with speaking about it at times, because I feel like for me, I'm in a sort of in-between space. You know, at times feeling sort of like the weight of my disability, particularly in like social settings, having sensory overload, sometimes, also, just not being able to hear I know, I remember growing up, you know, the game telephone where you whispering each other's ears, that was always sort of like a sore spot for me, because I was like, oh, people are gonna realize that I can't actually hear what they're saying on my right side. And so yeah, just like kind of weird or like going around social situations like that. But on the other hand, I feel fortunate that I have full hearing in my left ear, and that I haven't had to have cochlear implants or implants or other surgeries like other people who might have hearing disabilities have or struggle with. But again, it sort of goes back to a feeling of sometimes not feeling disabled enough. And I think that sort of drives how I think about the complexities of how people interact with the environment. But as time has gone on, I feel like my hearing disability has made me sort of more aware of my surroundings, and whether it be you know, a restaurant or out in nature, just thinking about how different people engage with their surroundings. And also thinking about accessibility to nature as well off of that. So thinking about how certain people might not be able to go in specific nature-related spaces, like hiking spaces and things like that. And I would say, then, simultaneously, going back to feeling sort of in-between growing up, was slowly realizing that I wasn't straight as well. And I feel like as you're, you know, growing up in a small, sort of conservative community, there's sort of this one path or a specific path that you're supposed to be on and sort of, you know, you're not supposed to stray from that path. And I think that also had like a particular weight to it growing up as well, just, I feel like I hadn't fully recognized my sexuality fully until I went to college where I felt like I was more able to experience you know, different people, different surroundings outside of where I grew up. And this isn't to say that there weren't other people who were out in high school at my high school specifically. But I felt like at the time, I was still trying to figure out what how I was or who I was, and sort of navigating that more conservative environment. And I would say specifically, as well, my sexuality is definitely a big driver of the work that I do, mostly because queer people are socially marginalized in everyday spaces. And this carries over to environmental spaces, or just spaces where queer people are sort of not allowed to be themselves. And I think on the health front, as well, particularly in the context of climate change. I think there really needs to be more work at the intersection of sexuality and disability and climate change.

Brian Bienkowski

Thanks so much for both speaking about that and bringing up that last point, because I think that's, you know, we're gonna get into some of that today, because that's what a lot of your work has been focused on. But before we, before we do that, I did want to say whenever I think of kids, you mentioned being a kid and feeling less than and I just think, don't you wish you could just reach kids and be like, it's not always you're not always gonna feel like this, Oh, my God, my heart, just thinking about people who feel different, or that they're always going to struggle, you know, it's just like, oh, gosh, you're gonna be okay. It's gonna be so much better when you get older

Brandon Rothrock

For sure. Yeah, I would say it was definitely kind of odd, you know, telling my friends or something when I would have to leave school early to get an audiologist appointment or something, you know, so I guess not a lot of people go and get audiology appointments, unless there's something you know that you're monitoring with your hearing. And so yeah, it was just very interesting. So a lot of time at the ear, nose and throat doctor growing up. So.

Brian Bienkowski

Well, if you're anything like me, I just wanted to not be noticed. I just didn't want to be cool or not cool. I just wanted to be a wallflower. So for people like that, anything that draws attention to you as as like, "ugh, I don't think I want that." So before we get into some of that work that we mentioned, what is a moment or event that has helped shape your identity up to this point?

Brandon Rothrock

Yeah. So I feel like, I don't think I can pinpoint a particular moment or event because I feel that my identity or sort of coming to terms of my identity has not been a linear journey. I feel like there's times you know, where I thought to myself, "Okay, maybe I, if I'm in a new setting, I won't tell people about my sexuality, I won't tell people that I have a disability." And I feel like I have sort of a privilege in that sense, where sort of my disability is not visible, or in certain spaces as well, with my sexuality, you know, you can sort of hide it in a way. You know, maybe I could just blend in in the background, like you were mentioning. But I guess, I feel like when I take a step back, particularly thinking about my junior year in college, like, I guess I really realized that I had a support system of friends and family who, you know, would love and support me as I expected them to and just sort of took a leap with telling people about my sexuality. But I think it's important to say as well that a lot of LGBTQ people in the US are not as fortunate to have the support system in the way that I have. And there's sort of a particular danger about everyday life and coming out that I don't think many straight people sort of understand the gravity of at times. Particularly for queer people, one minute, you could be, you know, living at home having a seemingly comfortable life. And the next minute, you're sort of out on the street because your friends or family have not accepted you. So definitely thinking about that as my identity as sort of moved across different spaces and time as well.

Brian Bienkowski

So I want to center this, the idea of looking at kind of the environmental LGBTQ+ intersection and before we get to some of the specific research that you're and the work that you're doing, can you talk broadly about environmental impacts and the state of research on the LGBTQ+ community?

Brandon Rothrock

Yeah, sure. So I would say a majority of work at the intersection of environmental impacts and the LGBTQIA+ community focuses sort of on understanding vulnerability as it relates to disaster preparedness and response. So Well, I'm sure we'll get into it a little later, but some of my colleagues are out for sustainability. Vanessa Raddatz and Leo Goldsmith co-wrote a paper called "Queer and present danger." And it speaks to how disasters such as flooding, hurricanes, tornadoes, things like that sort of exacerbate existing LGBTQIA+ marginalization and inequalities. So just thinking about inequalities, more broadly, LGBTQ people are more likely to be living in poverty and dealing with economic hardship. LGBTQ communities experience higher rates of homelessness and housing insecurity than the general population. And LGBTQ+ people may experience a higher rate of mental health impacts during disasters and their street counterparts. And this might be due to the higher sort of fear, stress and anxiety that they may have in their everyday lives. And so thinking about sort of everyday life and also including disaster response, there's sort of a few drivers of discrimination and bias that Lael Goldsmith and Vanessa Raddatz write out. One of them being that there's inequitable federal disaster response programs. There's still sort of gender and sexual orientation-based discrimination evident in federal programs and as well, a change administrations can wipe away sort of executive orders or slim protections that are already afforded to LGBTQ+ people during disasters. There's also a lack of recognition of queer families during disasters. And this again, goes back to what I was saying a little bit about sort of, maybe not being able to come out or sort of shifting your queerness in different spaces. They've, it's been shown that queer couples may have to pose as siblings to prevent separation at shelters or to receive relief from FEMA. So again, that's just you know, another added sort of layer of discrimination that they might have to face, while they're already, you know, potentially vacating their homes due to a hurricane or another disaster. And a third one would definitely be the involvement of faith-based organizations in disaster relief in the US. The Salvation Army, for example, is heavily involved in disaster response, yet has been shown to be very discriminatory towards queer people. As an example, in 2008, Jennifer Gayle, who was a transgender woman, was denied entry to a Texas Salvation Army homeless shelter, and ended up having a heart attack and passing away in the street, which first responders attributed to near freezing temperatures in Texas, and also sort of related to the stress that might have occurred as she was denied entry to this homeless shelter. So thinking about that outside of disaster, there's still a large gap and sort of understanding specific instances of environmental injustice, such as pollution level or health concerns around the queer community.

Brian Bienkowski

Thank you so much for laying that out. You know, that last point about faith-based organizations was not something I would have thought of that is, and that example is just, obviously heart wrenching. So in your master's, master's thesis, –that was a tongue twister– in your master's thesis, you examine the perceptions of climate change and the environment for LGBTQ+ students at four large universities in relation to their sexual and place-based identity. So can you talk a little bit about what you found and what we can learn from it?

Brandon Rothrock

Yeah, definitely. So I interviewed and did focus groups with about 30 undergraduate students at different universities in Appalachia, specifically West Virginia University, where I was doing my master's, Appalachian State University in Virginia Tech. And I mostly found that students have very complicated experiences with their sexuality, the environment and also their future in the context of climate change. And a lot of students spoke about how their sexual identity sort of brought forth more progressive stances of the environment. And as they move sort of through college and became more exposed to climate change education, or just broadly education on the environment, they sort of realized how important the issue was, while also in a sort of a similar vein coming to terms with their sexuality. One of my interviewees, for example mentioned how, prior to coming to college, she considered herself super conservative, super straight, super, "I don't believe climate change is happening." And very, I guess, conservative viewpoints you could say. But as she came to college and started, you know, taking classes around the environment, also sort of being exposed to more queer people, she sort of realized, hey, actually, climate change does exist. And I actually consider myself a bisexual woman. So things like that was definitely coming up throughout a lot of the interviews sort of this movement through time and how they're sort of feelings and sexuality and different identities sort of matured over time, I guess you could say. I would say one thing that was really interesting as well was that for the students, it was quite difficult to pinpoint specific climate change issues in Appalachia. So a lot of students could point to, you know, climate related issues that they saw on the news or social media. I was doing interviews in the fall of 2020. And then the wildfires in California had been really bad that year, there were major category five hurricanes that hit Puerto Rico and Texas, flooding in New York City. I remember watching videos myself of you know, the subway system being completely flooded. But none of these issues were really regional specific to Appalachia, which I thought was quite interesting as well. And I would say too, the students also notice that climate change played somewhat of a role in where they'd like to live post college, so a lot of students mentioned, you know, queer enclaves like San Francisco, L.A, New York City is places to move. And this definitely connects to the idea of Metro normativity, or sort of the idea that rural queer people feel a pull towards urban environments and want to sort of move there. I think it's a little bit more complex. And not technically one way, in that sense, from the interviews that I did. It felt like students really still felt a pole to sort of the natural environment and where they grew up in Appalachia, but because of a result of economic, environmental and social factors, they just felt like perhaps they'd have more opportunities for jobs, more opportunities to, you know, sort of be themselves in some of these areas like New York City.

Brian Bienkowski

And I'm realizing in my second question, I fell into that cliche, although I was just completely curious, because we don't get many folks on here that grew up in a in somewhat rural environment. But I'm realizing I made that same assumption that you wanted to run to the city, right? So you've you've mentioned, this focus on the Appalachian region. And you've, you've maintained that focus, and I think it's a it's a place that we on this podcast, and in our program has been somewhat underrepresented. So I'm really happy to have you as part of this fellowship and your perspective on it. And I think most people know about kind of historical coal use and the recent phase outs of coal, but perhaps not some of the other issues that are starting to bubble up there in the region. So can you outline the current environmental and climate issues on the forefront in the Appalachian region?

Brandon Rothrock

Yeah, definitely. So I guess just a little bit of background, I did my bachelor's in Pennsylvania, my master's in West Virginia, and now my PhD in Ohio. So I feel like I've spent a long time, sort of in Appalachia, at least for the past 10 or so years. I think it might be worth speaking a little bit about the particular way in which coal was and still is a piece of people's identity in Appalachia, and in particular, thinking about West Virginia and Kentucky, with many people sort of shifting into the oil and gas industry more broadly, there's still a certain sort of expectation to defend those jobs or defend the heritage and livelihood associated with that line of work. And so thinking about sort of broader conversations around energy transition, it feels like sort of the national or maybe outside of Appalachia thoughts are, you know, "we need to move away from coal immediately, we need to phase out oil and gas," but to some of the people who live in Appalachia and even those who might not work in oil and gas themselves, which is why I found through some of my interviews, but might have family members or distant relatives that might work there, or work in the industry, I should say, it's like, you have to be definitely mindful that you might be sort of ripping away a piece of someone's identity when you're sort of saying those sort of broader narratives that we need to have a transition. And so yeah, I think it sort of has made people, I don't want to speak for everyone in Appalachia, but I feel like it might make some people quite upset and sort of think that sustainability equals, you know, my livelihood is gone, or it's an attack on my livelihood. And so I think it's really important to think about the way in which other people are also thinking about and theorizing as Appalachia more broadly, as well as sort of being you know, backwards, inbred, a sacrifice zone for natural resources for the rest of the country, when really corporations and government interests have caused a majority of those issues in Appalachia. And I feel like we see this quite evidently sort of now with fracking and also the ongoing opioid pandemic. It sort of removes the agency of Appalachians themselves and paints them as being helpless or unable to sort of fight back in these situations or some of the things that they face. And I would say there's still a lot of emerging literature coming out right now about sort of the emotional impacts of oil and gas, you know, thinking about pipelines, the destruction of people's property and livelihood. But there's also a lot of emerging issues around politics in Appalachia that I've been following quite closely, specifically in West Virginia. You sort of have this really stark conservative shifts going on, and a lot of the candidates for governor, in my opinion, look like they're intending to race West Virginia to the bottom as a state in the US. And yeah, if you ever have a chance to look at some of the political ads for the candidates for governor of West Virginia for this upcoming election, they are quite scary, I would have to say and I guess that's an example. One of the sort of front runners for Governor I'm not entirely sure if he made it past the primary or not, but sort of was standing in like the middle of the, you know, quintessential mountain-looking road, one way road. And this white van of migrants is what they noted, was sort of coming into West Virginia. And you see this sort of, you know, strong white conservative man throw his hand up, and is like, "Stop! California is back that way." And that was sort of the whole just of the ad. And I thought it was just really interesting to see sort of like the, again, like, insider -outsider dynamic, like "we don't want people coming into this area" sort of mentality. Yeah, that is just thinking about those issues and how they play into the current sort of political array in the US.

Brian Bienkowski

Well, I remember Joe Manchin years ago had an ad, and he's probably considered somewhat sane, compared to what you're talking about, but he was shooting, I forget what he was shooting, maybe it was a climate bill or something. But it was him at a gun range shooting. But you know, your comments on kind of people's embedded identities. And you know, I think there's also a fear of kind of economic uncertainty. So I live in Michigan, and everybody here where I grew up, it was all touched by the automotive industry. And of course, there's fear when you switch to something like EVs, you know, if you're a combustion engine maker, or you make parts for that, and if you drive around Detroit, and Flint, and Lansing, every, you know, all of those little industrial parks are full of car park manufacturers. I mean, there's, there's a real fear there for people's livelihoods. And I think that's why the idea of kind of a just transition and making sure people don't get left behind is so important. Definitely, the identity politics are so... they're not good. They're no fun. I think this is a good time to ask about kind of your geography training. So that is, you know, some of your education has been in geography and that informs your research. So I'm wonder if you could talk about how that is, and specifically, when we think about people's sense of place, and their place-based identities, which is maybe a term some folks don't fully understand.

Brandon Rothrock

Yeah, sure. So I definitely would call geography a sort of "everything all at once discipline" or a, I usually, when some of my friends ask, you know, what is geography? a lot of people think it's cartography or about making maps or using GIS. But I would say it's really the discipline of people, places and things. I mean, sort of everything you can think of, because I feel like geographers truly conduct research that touches everything, you know, you can have physical geographers who focus in hydrology, geology, geology, meteorology, all the way through the social sciences, say Women's and Gender Studies, economics, political science, anthropology, sort of geography touches all of those disciplines together. And I think what binds the disciplines together is definitely sort of just thinking about people, places and things through space. So how our spaces are envisioned, how they're constructed, and how they're actualized across different areas, and the meaning behind our spaces is definitely something that really interests me, you know, how does a mountain or a body of water influence someone's identity and how they see themselves in the world? And I feel like geography and the training that I've had in geography sort of gives you the tools to research each piece of those sort of broader, more complex questions. I would say too that geography has sort of allowed me to think about everything in systems. So how one change in a system that might not even, you might not even think on the surface sort of connects to another system, in fact does in various different ways. And I feel like we as geographers sort of connect issues that on the surface, you might not think have no connections at all.

Brian Bienkowski

I think I would like to go back and study geography, especially when you mentioned the mountain and body of water. I think those two examples are so poignant for me because I know so many people. I'm from Michigan, and a lot of people always want to go west and go to the mountains. There's something about that, that speaks to them. Whereas me if I'm not near a great lake, or a big body of water, it feels like I feel like I'm not at home, right because it's always it's always been so close. So I think I can really relate to that. And it sounds like such a fascinating field I'd like to...

Brandon Rothrock

Yeah, for sure. Yeah. I I actually came at to a geography from meteorology. I originally wanted to be studying weather and As I sort of went through some classes in undergrad, I was like, I" don't know if I really like the math or physics, that's involved with this" I was more so interested in, you know, like the connections to people on the ground, like what's happening with weather and things like that. And so, yeah, I took it my freshman year, I took a geography class called human use of the environment. And within about a week or two weeks of being there, I was like, "Okay, this is actually where I needed to be." And so I switched my major to geography, and the rest is history. Now in a PhD, so.

Brian Bienkowski

Nice. So in that PhD, and work beyond that, so you've mentioned kind of these looking at kind of, you know, place-based identities. And then we talked about Appalachian, like regional issues. So I'm wondering how and if you plan to study the intersection of LGBTQ+ individuals and these kinds of regional environmental issues in your research? And if so, what do you hope to learn?

Brandon Rothrock

Yeah, so my dissertation research is still sort of a work in progress, thinking about the plan. But I am really interested in designing a research project with queer people who are working in environmental and or social-based grassroots organizations, nonprofits, or other community-based organizations in Appalachia. And I'm sort of interested having worked in many nonprofits before sort of how their work, whether it's through activism, or through a regular sort of nine to five, influences their thoughts, not only about their queerness, but about environmental or social justice work. And so I'm really interested in sort of the mix between identity, Appalachia and energy extraction injustice. And I'm particularly looking at the Ohio River Valley between Ohio, West Virginia, and Pennsylvania, where there's been significant oil and gas build out where there has been, we're starting to see the ramp up a petrochemical build out, we're also seeing the opioid pandemic, we're also seeing sort of environmental degradation from different industries that have sort of been in Appalachia for quite some time. And we're also seeing sort of a shift to thinking about an energy future around hydrogen. So there's an Appalachian Regional Hydrogen Hub that was sort of has already gotten the green light from the federal government, which will be sited mostly in Ohio, in West Virginia and Pennsylvania. So thinking about how sort of Appalachia is still this site of extraction or like continued degradation, again, not at the hands of the people who live there, but the companies and industries that have sort of taken foot there. And so really, in my dissertation, and sort of thinking about how energy extraction as it shifts across, you know, traditional spaces or sources, such as coal towards non traditional and fracking, and how there's sort of an increasingly national international push to sustainable energy systems, and how queer people are thinking about all of those issues and envisioning a better future for themselves and for the region. And so I envision this being done with interviews, focus groups, toying around as well with perhaps doing a Photovoice project where participants would be able to, you know, have cameras and document their day to day lives in Appalachia. And I'd really like to do this sort of, on people's properties or walking interviews out in nature with people. Because my of my master's research was done fully online to do the COVID pandemic. But I'm also, again, open to conducting research in the digital space. I think, going back to my disability, it was quite helpful when I was in sort of an enclosed room on zoom with somebody where I could also have a transcript going and I could better sort of control the conversation in a way whereas I feel like perhaps walking interviews may elicit more or different emotions from the participant or myself or might give me new ideas about things going on. But I also worry about sort of like the hearing aspect of that, like there might be, you know, a well pad that's going off in the background or a giant truck carrying fracking fluid driving down the dirt road next to us as we're trying to do an interview. So thinking about sort of my disability in sort of what I'm thinking about to do with my research.

Brian Bienkowski

Well, the last thing you need is advice from me on your research, however, as a, as someone who used to be out in the field reporting, I can say if you can make it work for you, when you get people out in their space and something that they're maybe they're comfortable in or a place that they work in, boy, they really open up that and seems it seems to me, they always opened up a lot more than in kind of a more digital or commercial environment. So if you can make it work, and I would try to get out there and get people to open up a little more. So I know outside the academic research, you also serve as a board member for Out for Sustainability, a organization that you mentioned earlier, and you run your own website, the Inclusive Environment. So I want to know, what have you learned from this more kind of direct activism and outreach? And why do you make time for this kind of stuff, in addition to your research?

Brandon Rothrock

Yeah. So I would say that my mantra in life is sort of "be the difference you want to see in the world." And I feel like I can make a difference best through activism or through the spaces that I sort of work in. And I feel like, particularly moving through college, and then graduate school, I see how it has become sort of more daunting for recent graduates or people wanting to sort of switch careers to find jobs within the environmental sector. And I feel like there's sort of a lack of accessibility or sort of "pull yourself up by the bootstraps" mentality around sort of US job culture in general. And I feel like I want to be able to change that through my work. And so I do mentoring sessions, mostly to recent grads or people looking to switch into the environmental sector free of charge, and I'm sort of open with the way I've gone about my experiences, I think it's it, people find it difficult to speak with strangers about their experiences, and how they sort of got to where they are now. But I try to be as transparent as possible, even if I'm just meeting people for the first time, you know, sharing my successes and my failures in the environmental space, and how I've been able to sort of navigate different areas, whether it's academic, whether it's nonprofit, whether it's consulting, and thinking about sort of how I might have felt particular ways in particular spaces, you know, with my disability or with my sexuality, as well as a piece. And I would say, coming to Out for Sustainability. It has taught me a lot about running a nonprofit, we are a fully volunteer board of directors and we, we have two paid contractors. But other than that we do not have a director, we do not have sort of nine to five management of anything within the organization, which I think might be a little different than how other nonprofits run. And so with that comes certain challenges, it's definitely a heavy lift at times, especially with media requests, collaborations, I won't even get into sort of the finances of it all. I'm not on that working group, I focus more on the communications part. But I think it's been a super difficult but yet rewarding experience at the same time working without out for S, because I feel like we're helping to really aid the visibility of queer people and queer issues, we're helping to aid the visibility of environmental issues. And on top of that, we're also trying to aid the visibility of queer environmental issues, which is really where we sit and do most of our work. So I feel like I learn something new every day working with Out for S, but also through doing mentoring sessions.

Brian Bienkowski

So through both kind of your research, academic training and this activism, you've spent some time now examining the intersection of LGBTQ+ communities and the environment. So I'm wondering if you have some ways you would like to see researchers, policymakers and others better incorporate these perspectives and experiences in both research and policymaking?

Brandon Rothrock

Yeah, so I think it's important to make queer and LGBTQ+ people sort of central to research and policies and not sort of add them in as an afterthought. I feel like and I would say that environmental-justice-based research, particularly over the last, you know, decade, 20 years has definitely really, there have been many researchers that are trying to include LGBTQ people into research and policies pretty well. But I'd still like to see sort of more work being done in that area. Also, more research, just assessing and perhaps quantifying and qualifying environmental justice impacts on the queer community, particularly how pollution and other health related topics or indices may impacts queer livelihoods in everyday life. I feel like there's a lot of limited work being done that shows how LGBTQ people across the US and the world are impacted by environmental injustice. And I feel like there should be way more work focus on justice and equity and how queer identity intersects other identities. So race, class, gender.

Brian Bienkowski

I would add on the policymaking front, just some basic anti discrimination when it comes to things like you mentioned earlier, when, when people are denied accessibility in an emergency situation, we're failing, regardless of the reasoning behind that intolerance. Well, thank you so much for those perspectives, I have to ask, what are you optimistic about?

Brandon Rothrock

Yeah, I think I struggle to how to answer this question. Because, you know, the more I read, the more I speak with other people, particularly in an academic space, I feel like it's, it's easy to become less optimistic about the world around us and the issues that we face. And I feel like going back to my geography training, just thinking about everything sort of systems based, like, if you do x, then y, z, A, A, B, A, C, they'll all sort of, you know, occur, as well, or like simultaneously. But I think I really am most optimistic about my colleagues that are doing environmental work that are sort of laying the foundation for progressive change in the country, particularly some of my other Agents of Change fellows working in petrochemicals, and beauty products to environmental justice, and then also, all of the other board members at Out for Sustainability, we're all sort of doing really great work day to day that sort of collectively will help make a difference. And I feel like that is what really makes me more optimistic, particularly their drive continues to make me more driven in my own work.

Brian Bienkowski

So working in the environmental space, what is kind of the environment or nature? What does it mean to you? Like, when and how are you most happy and at peace in the in the outdoors?

Brandon Rothrock

Yeah, so I think my idea of nature sort of changes day to day. I would say, it might actually moreso be based on you know, where I am in the world, I think about nature as sort of being the physical world around us, you know, plants, animals, mountains, bodies of water, things like that, but also sort of the non-physical. So the emotions that I have in particular spaces, or the connections that I feel like I have to sort of the physical space. I would say, I find myself most happy around bodies of water, or more, say, with the ocean, particularly going to the shore in New Jersey, I really feel sort of connected to the world around us, when I have my feet in the sand and can feel the sun on my skin. I feel like the ocean, and particularly being fortunate to have grown up going to the Jersey Shore every year. I'll actually be going there in like 10 days from now. I'm super excited about that. But yeah, that's where I feel like I'm most connected to the environment.

Brian Bienkowski

Yeah, your idea of kind of depending on where you are in the world makes me think just earlier today, I was booking some travel to New York City and I find myself so excited to run in Central Park. I just love running there. And it's, it's a little Of course, I want to go to where there's trees and stuff, because it's such a concrete jungle. But um, but around here, I don't have that. I mean, I run around here, but it's not that same draw to want to run in the city. So I can totally relate to depending on what place you're at like that. Well, thank you so much for all that Brandon, I have three rapid fire questions where you can just answer with one word, or a phrase, I cannot start my day without an

Brandon Rothrock

allergy pill.

Brian Bienkowski

I feel most creative when

Brandon Rothrock

I am listening to music.

Brian Bienkowski

This week, I am really looking forward to

Brandon Rothrock

trying a new restaurant.

Brian Bienkowski

All right, and you do not have to confine yourself to one word or a phrase here. What is the last book you read for fun?

Brandon Rothrock

Yeah, this might not be the last book that I read, but one that sort of sticks with me. It's called "The Island of missing trees" by Elif Shafak. It's a historical fiction about sort of love and the environment in Cyprus. I'm really big into historical fiction as of late. I don't know why.

Brian Bienkowski

Well, Brandon, thank you so much for, you know, enlightening us on your research and all the good work that you're doing. I'm really happy to have you in this program and we'll have you on again soon.

Brandon Rothrock

Sounds great. Thanks.

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From timber wars to cannabis crash: Scotia's battle to survive as California's last company town

The redwood wars are long over. Pacific Lumber is no more, but the company town it built endures in Humboldt County. Can it find a new life as a hidden real estate gem?

SCOTIA — The last time Mary Bullwinkel and her beloved little town were in the national media spotlight was not a happy period. Bullwinkel was the spokesperson for the logging giant Pacific Lumber in the late 1990s, when reporters flooded into this often forgotten corner of Humboldt County to cover the timber wars and visit a young woman who had staged a dramatic environmental protest in an old growth redwood tree.Julia “Butterfly” Hill — whose ethereal, barefoot portraits high in the redwood canopy became a symbol of the Redwood Summer — spent two years living in a thousand-year-old tree, named Luna, to keep it from being felled. Down on the ground, it was Bullwinkel’s duty to speak not for the trees but for the timber workers, many of them living in the Pacific Lumber town of Scotia, whose livelihoods were at stake. It was a role that brought her death threats and negative publicity. Julia “Butterfly” Hill stands in a centuries-old redwood tree nicknamed “Luna” in April 1998. Hill would spend a little more than two years in the tree, protesting logging in the old-growth forest. (Andrew Lichtenstein / Sygma via Getty Images) The timber wars have receded into the mists of history. Old-growth forests were protected. Pacific Lumber went bankrupt. Thousands of timber jobs were lost. But Bullwinkel, now 68, is still in Scotia. And this time, she has a much less fraught mission — although one that is no less difficult: She and another longtime PALCO employee are fighting to save Scotia itself, by selling it off, house by house. After the 2008 bankruptcy of Pacific Lumber, a New York hedge fund took possession of the town, an asset it did not relish in its portfolio. Bullwinkel and her boss, Steve Deike, came on board to attract would-be homebuyers and remake what many say is the last company town in America into a vibrant new community. “It’s very gratifying for me to be here today,” Bullwinkel said recently, as she strolled the town’s streets, which look as though they could have been teleported in from the 1920s. “To keep Scotia alive, basically.” Mary Bullwinkel, residential real estate sales coordinator for Town of Scotia Company, LLC, stands in front of the company’s offices. The LLC owns many of the houses and some of the commercial buildings in Scotia. Some new residents say they are thrilled.“It’s beautiful. I call it my little Mayberry. It’s like going back in town,” said Morgan Dodson, 40, who bought the fourth house sold in town in 2018 and lives there with her husband and two children, ages 9 and 6.But the transformation has proved more complicated — and taken longer — than anyone ever imagined it would. Nearly two decades after PALCO filed for bankrupcty in 2008, just 170 of the 270 houses have been sold, with 7 more on the market. “No one has ever subdivided a company town before,” Bullwinkel said, noting that many other company towns that dotted the country in the 19th century “just disappeared, as far as I know.” The first big hurdle was figuring out how to legally prepare the homes for sale: as a company town, Scotia was not made up of hundreds of individual parcels, with individual gas meters and water mains. It was one big property. More recently, the flagging real estate market has made people skittish.Many in town say the struggle to transform Scotia mirrors a larger struggle in Humboldt County, which has been rocked, first by the faltering of its logging industry and more recently by the collapse of its cannabis economy. “Scotia is a microcosm of so many things,” said Gage Duran, a Colorado-based architect who bought the century-old hospital and is working to redevelop it into apartments. “It’s a microcosm for what’s happening in Humboldt County. It’s a microcosm for the challenges that California is facing.” The Humboldt Sawmill Company Power Plant still operates in of Scotia. The Pacific Lumber Company was founded in 1863 as the Civil War raged. The company, which eventually became the largest employer in Humboldt County, planted itself along the Eel River south of Eureka and set about harvesting the ancient redwood and Douglas fir forests that extended for miles through the ocean mists. By the late 1800s, the company had begun to build homes for its workers near its sawmill. Originally called “Forestville,” company officials changed the town’s name to Scotia in the 1880s. For more than 100 years, life in Scotia was governed by the company that built it. Workers lived in the town’s redwood cottages and paid rent to their employer. They kept their yards in nice shape, or faced the wrath of their employer. Water and power came from their employer. But the company took care of its workers and created a community that was the envy of many. The neat redwood cottages were well maintained. The hospital in town provided personal care. Neighbors walked to the market or the community center or down to the baseball diamond. When the town’s children grew up, company officials provided them with college scholarships. “I desperately wanted to live in Scotia,” recalled Jeannie Fulton, who is now the head of the Humboldt County Farm Bureau. When she and her husband were younger, she said, her husband worked for Pacific Lumber but the couple did not live in the company town.Fulton recalled that the company had “the best Christmas party ever” each year, and officials handed out a beautiful gift to every single child. “Not cheap little gifts. These were Santa Claus worthy,” Fulton said.But things began to change in the 1980s, when Pacific Lumber was acquired in a hostile takeover by Texas-based Maxxam Inc. The acquisition led to the departure of the longtime owners, who had been committed to sustainably harvesting timber. It also left the company loaded with debt. To pay off the debts, the new company began cutting trees at a furious pace, which infuriated environmental activists. A view of the town of Scotia and timber operations, sometime in the late 1800s or early 1900s. (The Pacific Lumber Company collection) 1 2 1. Redwood logs are processed by the Pacific Lumber Company in 1995 in Scotia, CA. This was the largest redwood lumber mill in the world, resulting in clashes with the environmental community for years. (Gilles Mingasson / Getty Images) 2. Redwood logs are trucked to the Pacific Lumber Company in 1995 in Scotia, CA. (Gilles Mingasson / Getty Images) Among them was Hill, who was 23 years old on a fall day in 1997 when she and other activists hiked onto Pacific Lumber land. “I didn’t know much about the forest activist movement or what we were about to do,” Hill later wrote in her book. “I just knew that we were going to sit in this tree and that it had something to do with protecting the forest.” Once she was cradled in Luna’s limbs, Hill did not come down for more than two years. She became a cause celebre. Movie stars such as Woody Harrelson and musicians including Willie Nelson and Joan Baez came to visit her. With Hill still in the tree, Pacific Lumber agreed to sell 7,400 acres, including the ancient Headwaters Grove, to the government to be preserved. A truck driver carries a load of lumber down Main Street in Scotia. The historic company town is working to attract new residents and businesses, but progress has been slow. Then just before Christmas in 1999, Hill and her compatriots reached a final deal with Pacific Lumber. Luna would be protected. The tree still stands today.Pacific Lumber limped along for seven more years before filing for bankruptcy, which was finalized in 2008. Marathon Asset Management, a New York hedge fund, found itself in possession of the town. Deike, who was born in the Scotia hospital and lived in town for years, and Bullwinkel, came on board as employees of a company called The Town of Scotia to begin selling it off. Deike said he thought it might be a three-year job. That was nearly 20 years ago.He started in the mailroom at Pacific Lumber as a young man and rose to become one of its most prominent local executives. Now he sounds like an urban planner when he describes the process of transforming a company town.His speech is peppered with references to “infrastructure improvements” and “subdivision maps” and also to the peculiar challenges created by Pacific Lumber’s building.“They did whatever they wanted,” he said. “Build this house over the sewer line. There was a manhole cover in a garage. Plus, it wasn’t mapped.” Steven Deike, president of Town of Scotia Company LLC, and Mary Bullwinkel, the company’s residential real estate sales coordinator, examine a room being converted into apartments at the Scotia Hospital. The first houses went up for sale in 2017 and more have followed every year since.Dodson and her family came in 2018. Like some of the new owners, Dodson had some history with Scotia. Although she lived in Sacramento growing up, some of her family worked for Pacific Lumber and lived in Scotia and she had happy memories of visiting the town.“The first house I saw was perfect,” she said. “Hardwood floors, and made out of redwood so you don’t have to worry about termites.”She has loved every minute since. “We walk to school. We walk to pay our water bill. We walk to pick up our mail. There’s lots of kids in the neighborhood.”The transformation, however, has proceeded slowly. And lately, economic forces have begun to buffet the effort as well, including the slowing real estate market.Dodson, who also works as a real estate agent, said she thinks some people may be put off by the town’s cheek-by-jowl houses. Also, she added, “we don’t have garages and the water bill is astronomical.”But she added, “once people get inside them, they see the craftsmanship.”Duran, the Colorado architect trying to fix up the old hospital, is among those who have run into unexpected hurdles on the road to redevelopment. A project that was supposed to take a year is now in its third, delayed by everything from a shortage of electrical equipment to a dearth of workers.“I would guess that a portion of the skilled workforce has left Humboldt County,” Duran said, adding that the collapse of the weed market means that “some people have relocated because they were doing construction but also cannabis.”He added that he and his family and friends have been “doing a hard thing to try to fix up this building and give it new life, and my hope is that other people will make their own investments into the community.”A year ago, an unlikely visitor returned: Hill herself. She came back to speak at a fundraiser for Sanctuary Forest, a nonprofit land conservation group that is now the steward of Luna. The event was held at the 100-year-old Scotia Lodge — which once housed visiting timber executives but now offers boutique hotel rooms and craft cocktails. Many of the new residents had never heard of Hill or known of her connection to the area. Tamara Nichols, 67, who discovered Scotia in late 2023 after moving from Paso Robles, said she knew little of the town’s history. But she loves being so close to the old-growth redwoods and the Eel River, which she swims in. She also loves how intentional so many in town are about building community. What’s more, she added: “All those trees, there’s just a feel to them.”

Surfing Activism Takes Hold Across Latin America

Surfers and local communities in Peru, Chile, and Ecuador have stepped up efforts to safeguard their coastlines, pushing for laws that protect key surf spots from development and environmental threats. This movement highlights a shift where wave riders lead conservation, with potential benefits for tourism economies like Costa Rica’s. In Peru, a law passed in […] The post Surfing Activism Takes Hold Across Latin America appeared first on The Tico Times | Costa Rica News | Travel | Real Estate.

Surfers and local communities in Peru, Chile, and Ecuador have stepped up efforts to safeguard their coastlines, pushing for laws that protect key surf spots from development and environmental threats. This movement highlights a shift where wave riders lead conservation, with potential benefits for tourism economies like Costa Rica’s. In Peru, a law passed in 2000 set the stage by banning projects that disrupt ocean floors or water flows at surf breaks. Since then, groups have secured protections for nearly 50 sites. One campaign aims to reach 100 protected waves by 2030, driven by partnerships between surfers and experts who map out these areas. These actions respond to risks from ports, mining, and urban growth that could erase prime surfing zones. Chile followed suit when its Congress passed a bill earlier this year to shield surf breaks, backed by the Rompientes Foundation. The measure requires environmental reviews for any coastal work that might harm waves. Supporters argue it preserves natural features while supporting jobs tied to surfing, which draws visitors from around the world. Ecuador’s push remains in early stages, with activists collecting signatures to propose similar legislation. Coastal residents join surfers in these drives, focusing on sites vulnerable to oil spills and erosion. The goal extends beyond recreation: protected waves help maintain marine habitats and buffer against climate shifts. This trend echoes broader environmental work in the region. Global networks like Save the Waves have designated over 145 surf reserves worldwide, including several in Latin America. These zones enforce monitoring and cleanup to keep beaches viable for both locals and travelers. For Costa Rica, where surfing fuels a major part of the economy, these developments offer lessons. Places like Pavones and Tamarindo face similar pressures from tourism booms and infrastructure. Local groups here already advocate for marine parks, and observing neighbors’ progress could strengthen those calls. Sustainable practices ensure spots remain attractive without degrading the environment. Experts point out economic ties. Studies show protected surf areas boost visitor spending on lodging, gear, and guides. In Peru, for instance, conserved waves support small businesses that rely on consistent conditions. Chile’s new law includes provisions for community input, which could model inclusive planning. Challenges persist. Enforcement varies, and some projects slip through despite rules. In Ecuador, gathering enough support tests grassroots strength. Yet successes build momentum, inspiring Mexico and Panama to draft their own bills. As Latin American nations balance growth and preservation, surfing activism shows how sports can drive policy. For travelers, it means more reliable destinations that prioritize long-term health over short gains. Costa Rica, with its established eco-tourism focus, stands to gain by aligning with this regional wave. The post Surfing Activism Takes Hold Across Latin America appeared first on The Tico Times | Costa Rica News | Travel | Real Estate.

Buddhist Monks Persist in Peace Walk Despite Injuries as Thousands Follow Them on Social Media

A group of Buddhist monks is persevering in their peace walk across much of the U.S. even after two participants were injured when a truck hit their escort vehicle

ATLANTA (AP) — A group of Buddhist monks is persevering in their walking trek across much of the U.S. to promote peace, even after two of its members were injured when a truck hit their escort vehicle.After starting their walk in Fort Worth, Texas, on Oct. 26, the group of about two dozen monks has made it to Georgia as they continue on a path to Washington, D.C., highlighting Buddhism's long tradition of activism for peace.The group planned to walk its latest segment through Georgia on Tuesday from the town of Morrow to Decatur, on the eastern edge of Atlanta. Marking day 66 of the walk, the group invited the public to a Peace Gathering in Decatur Tuesday afternoon.The monks and their loyal dog Aloka are traveling through 10 states en route to Washington, D.C. In coming days, they plan to pass through or very close to Athens, Georgia; the North Carolina cities of Charlotte, Greensboro and Raleigh; and Richmond, Virginia, on their way to the nation’s capital city.The group has amassed a huge audience on social media, with more than 400,000 followers on Facebook. Aloka has its own hashtag, #AlokathePeaceDog.The group's Facebook page is frequently updated with progress reports, inspirational notes and poetry.“We do not walk alone. We walk together with every person whose heart has opened to peace, whose spirit has chosen kindness, whose daily life has become a garden where understanding grows," the group posted recently.The trek has not been without danger. Last month outside Houston, the monks were walking on the side of a highway near Dayton, Texas, when their escort vehicle, which had its hazard lights on, was hit by a truck, Dayton Interim Police Chief Shane Burleigh said.The truck “didn’t notice how slow the vehicle was going, tried to make an evasive maneuver to drive around the vehicle, and didn’t do it in time,” Burleigh said at the time. “It struck the escort vehicle in the rear left, pushed the escort into two of the monks.”One of the monks had “substantial leg injuries” and was flown by helicopter to a hospital in Houston, Burleigh said. The other monk with less serious injuries was taken by ambulance to another hospital in suburban Houston. The monk who sustained the serious leg injuries was expected to have a series of surgeries to heal a broken bone, but his prognosis for recovery was good, a spokeswoman for the group said.Buddhism is a religion and philosophy that evolved from the teachings of Gautama Buddha, a prince turned teacher who is believed to have lived in northern India and attained enlightenment between the 6th and 4th centuries B.C. The religion spread to other parts of Asia after his death and came to the West in the 20th century. The Buddha taught that the path to end suffering and become liberated from the cycle of birth, death and reincarnation, includes the practice of non-violence, mental discipline through meditation and showing compassion for all beings.While Buddhism has branched into a number of sects over the centuries, its rich tradition of peace activism continues. Its social teaching was pioneered by figures like the Dalai Lama and Thich Nhat Hanh, who have applied core principles of compassion and non-violence to political, environmental and social justice as well as peace-building efforts around the world.Associated Press Writers Jeff Martin in Atlanta and Deepa Bharath in Los Angeles contributed.Copyright 2025 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.Photos You Should See – December 2025

Brigitte Bardot: French screen legend and controversial activist dead at 91

The actress who rose to fame in 1956 with "And God Created Woman" later abandoned her film career to become a passionate and often polarizing animal rights advocate.

By THOMAS ADAMSON and ELAINE GANLEY, The Associated PressPARIS (AP) — Brigitte Bardot, the French 1960s sex symbol who became one of the greatest screen sirens of the 20th century and later a militant animal rights activist and far-right supporter, has died. She was 91.Bardot died Sunday at her home in southern France, according to Bruno Jacquelin, of the Brigitte Bardot Foundation for the protection of animals. Speaking to The Associated Press, he gave no cause of death and said that no arrangements had been made for funeral or memorial services. She had been hospitalized last month.Bardot became an international celebrity as a sexualized teen bride in the 1956 movie, “And God Created Woman.” Directed by then husband, Roger Vadim, it triggered a scandal with scenes of the long-legged beauty dancing on tables naked.At the height of a cinema career that spanned more than two dozen films and three marriages, Bardot came to symbolize a nation bursting out of bourgeois respectability. Her tousled, blond hair, voluptuous figure and pouty irreverence made her one of France’s best-known stars, even as she struggled with depression.Such was her widespread appeal that in 1969 her features were chosen to be the model for “Marianne,” the national emblem of France and the official Gallic seal. Bardot’s face appeared on statues, postage stamps and coins.‘’We are mourning a legend,’’ French President Emmanuel Macron said in an X post.Bardot’s second career as an animal rights activist was equally sensational. She traveled to the Arctic to blow the whistle on the slaughter of baby seals. She also condemned the use of animals in laboratory experiments, and she opposed Muslim slaughter rituals.“Man is an insatiable predator,” Bardot told The Associated Press on her 73rd birthday in 2007. “I don’t care about my past glory. That means nothing in the face of an animal that suffers, since it has no power, no words to defend itself.”Her activism earned her compatriots’ respect and, in 1985, she was awarded the Legion of Honor, the nation’s highest recognition.Turn to the far rightLater, however, she fell from public grace as her animal protection diatribes took on a decidedly extremist tone. She frequently decried the influx of immigrants into France, especially Muslims.She was convicted and fined five times in French courts of inciting racial hatred, in incidents inspired by her opposition to the Muslim practice of slaughtering sheep during annual religious holidays.Bardot’s 1992 marriage to fourth husband Bernard d’Ormale, a onetime adviser to far-right National Front leader Jean-Marie Le Pen, contributed to her political shift. She described Le Pen, an outspoken nationalist with multiple racism convictions of his own, as a “lovely, intelligent man.”FILE - French actress Brigitte Bardot poses with a huge sombrero she brought back from Mexico, as she arrives at Orly Airport in Paris, France, on May 27, 1965. (AP Photo/File)APIn 2012, she supported the presidential bid of Marine Le Pen, who now leads her father’s renamed National Rally party. Le Pen paid homage Sunday to an “exceptional woman” who was “incredibly French.”In 2018, at the height of the #MeToo movement, Bardot said in an interview that most actors protesting sexual harassment in the film industry were “hypocritical,” because many played “the teases” with producers to land parts.She said she had never had been a victim of sexual harassment and found it “charming to be told that I was beautiful or that I had a nice little ass.”Privileged but ‘difficult’ upbringingBrigitte Anne-Marie Bardot was born Sept. 28, 1934, to a wealthy industrialist. A shy child, she studied classical ballet and was discovered by a family friend who put her on the cover of Elle magazine at age 14.Bardot once described her childhood as “difficult” and said that her father was a strict disciplinarian who would sometimes punish her with a horse whip.Vadim, a French movie produce who she married in 1952, saw her potential and wrote “And God Created Woman” to showcase her provocative sensuality, an explosive cocktail of childlike innocence and raw sexuality.The film, which portrayed Bardot as a teen who marries to escape an orphanage and then beds her brother-in-law, had a decisive influence on New Wave directors Jean-Luc Godard and François Truffaut, and came to embody the hedonism and sexual freedom of the 1960s.The film was a box-office hit, and it made Bardot a superstar. Her girlish pout, tiny waist and generous bust were often more appreciated than her talent.“It’s an embarrassment to have acted so badly,” Bardot said of her early films. “I suffered a lot in the beginning. I was really treated like someone less than nothing.”Bardot’s unabashed, off-screen love affair with co-star Jean-Louis Trintignant eradicated the boundaries between her public and private life and turned her into a hot prize for paparazzi.Bardot never adjusted to the limelight. She blamed the constant media attention for the suicide attempt that followed 10 months after the birth of her only child, Nicolas. Photographers had broken into her house two weeks before she gave birth to snap a picture of her pregnant.Nicolas’ father was Jacques Charrier, a French actor who she married in 1959 but who never felt comfortable in his role as Monsieur Bardot. Bardot soon gave up her son to his father, and later said she had been chronically depressed and unready for the duties of being a mother.“I was looking for roots then,” she said in an interview. “I had none to offer.”FILE - French Actress Brigitte Bardot with a dog in the Gennevilliers, Paris, while supporting the French animal protection society operation, Feb. 10, 1982. (AP Photo/Duclos, File)APIn her 1996 autobiography “Initiales B.B.,” she likened her pregnancy to “a tumor growing inside me,” and described Charrier as “temperamental and abusive.”Bardot married her third husband, West German millionaire playboy Gunther Sachs, in 1966, and they divorced three years later.Among her films were “A Parisian” (1957); “In Case of Misfortune,” in which she starred in 1958 with screen legend Jean Gabin; “The Truth” (1960); “Private Life” (1962); “A Ravishing Idiot” (1964); “Shalako” (1968); “Women” (1969); “The Bear And The Doll” (1970); “Rum Boulevard” (1971); and “Don Juan” (1973).With the exception of 1963’s critically acclaimed “Contempt,” directed by Godard, Bardot’s films were rarely complicated by plots. Often they were vehicles to display Bardot in scanty dresses or frolicking nude in the sun.“It was never a great passion of mine,” she said of filmmaking. “And it can be deadly sometimes. Marilyn (Monroe) perished because of it.”Bardot retired to her Riviera villa in St. Tropez at the age of 39 in 1973 after “The Woman Grabber.” As fans brought flowers to her home Sunday, the local St. Tropez administration called for “respect for the privacy of her family and the serenity of the places where she lived.”Middle-aged reinventionShe emerged a decade later with a new persona: An animal rights lobbyist, her face was wrinkled and her voice was deep following years of heavy smoking. She abandoned her jet-set life and sold off movie memorabilia and jewelry to create a foundation devoted exclusively to the prevention of animal cruelty.Depression sometimes dogged her, and she said that she attempted suicide again on her 49th birthday.Her activism knew no borders. She urged South Korea to ban the sale of dog meat and once wrote to U.S. President Bill Clinton asking why the U.S. Navy recaptured two dolphins it had released into the wild.She attacked centuries-old French and Italian sporting traditions including the Palio, a free-for-all horse race, and campaigned on behalf of wolves, rabbits, kittens and turtle doves.“It’s true that sometimes I get carried away, but when I see how slowly things move forward ... my distress takes over,” Bardot told the AP when asked about her racial hatred convictions and opposition to Muslim ritual slaughter,In 1997, several towns removed Bardot-inspired statues of Marianne after the actress voiced anti-immigrant sentiment. Also that year, she received death threats after calling for a ban on the sale of horse meat.Environmental campaigner Paul Watson, who was beaten on a seal hunt protest in Canada alongside Bardot in 1977 and campaigned with her for five decades, acknowledged that “many disagreed with Brigitte’s politics or some of her views.”FILE - French actress Brigitte Bardot poses in character from the motion picture "Voulez-Vous Danser Avec Moi" (Do you Want to Dance With Me), on Sept. 10, 1959. (AP Photo/File)AP“Her allegiance was not to the world of humans,” he said. “The animals of this world lost a wonderful friend today.”Bardot once said that she identified with the animals that she was trying to save.“I can understand hunted animals, because of the way I was treated,” Bardot said. “What happened to me was inhuman. I was constantly surrounded by the world press.”Elaine Ganley provided reporting for this story before her retirement. Angela Charlton contributed to this report.

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