An overwhelming sense of euphoria washed over me. I stood in Cass Park in Detroit among Sunrise members from across the Midwest, local Detroit environmental justice organizations, community groups, and union members, all there to march to the Democratic National Convention debate to establish the need to make Detroit the engine of the Green New Deal.

That sense of joy was rooted in the fact that for the first time in my life, I was in an environmental space that was not overwhelmingly white. I saw people who looked like the bucket boys banging away off the expressway in Chicago, who looked like my aunts and uncles, who looked like the community I go home to every day: a community of black, working-class people. This image of diversity stood in stark contrast to the reality of our Sunrise movement in my home in Chicago. Despite the fact that the city of Chicago is nearly one-third African-American, the Chicago hub has only two black core-team members out of about fifteen. I’m one of them.

After ten months of organizing in Chicago with the Sunrise Movement, a youth-led movement to stop climate change and create millions of good jobs in the process, I have reflected more on this struggle and want to offer thoughts as to how people and organizations—particularly the hub I’m a part of in Chicago and hubs across the country—can build a mass movement that is reflective of the diversity of this country.

So here’s why many well-intentioned organizers have fallen short on creating diverse movements, and what we can do about it.

You’ve failed to fully communicate why it matters to people of color (POC).

While many polls indicate that black people and people of color more broadly care about the climate crisis, especially those living in close proximity to toxic industry, many black people I know are not talking about climate change. We aren’t talking about a Green New Deal. We aren’t talking about how the climate crisis will impact our everyday lives or our future moving forward. I see it when I try to center the discussion of a just energy transition at Thanksgiving Dinner, only to get shut down, only for the conversation to move onto the issues my family sees as more relevant and urgent: the recent killing of another black man by the police, the quality of education in black schools. It was made evident in the lack of diversity in the audience at the Green New Deal Town Hall that Sunrise held in Chicago a few months ago, despite our having the event on the South Side in Hyde Park. The issue has yet to resonate.

It’s not that many black people are apathetic or ignorant to what’s going on in the world. It’s just that the threats of white supremacy and institutional racism weigh more heavily on our day-to-day lives. We are talking about crime and violence in our community. We are grieving the epidemic of police killing black people of all genders in the streets. We are organizing to bring more fresh, affordable produce to our communities where it is lacking. An issue as expansive as climate change naturally takes a back seat.

But it shouldn’t. Frontline communities, often communities of color, will suffer from climate change disproportionately compared to their white counterparts. We have to do a better job of communicating the intersection between climate and racial justice, of how climate impacts are already adversely affecting people of color. We can do this by leveraging the powerful narrative of history to highlight what happens when climate and environmental justice are not at the center of our analysis.

We can talk about how climate change places more financial burdens on people of color as problems like increased flooding hit us harder. We can connect the disastrous impact Hurricane Katrina had on black communities in New Orleans, and the Chicago Heat Wave of 1995, which led to more than 700 heat-related deaths—the majority poor and black—with how an increasingly warmer and wetter world might exacerbate racial inequities.

These examples provide strong cases that draw out how the climate crisis and justice for black and brown people are so intertwined, and thus matter for our livelihoods and survival.

You’ve failed to build genuine and authentic relationships with POC.

Partnerships are key to a sustainable movement. Relationships form the foundation for these partnerships. In Sunrise, we aim to cultivate these partnerships in order to build the People’s Alignment, a collective of climate advocates, movements for racial justice and inclusion, workers, sustainable businesses and other actors in the “new economy” who will organize together to bring the Green New Deal to life.

As the Chicago hub aspires to make the People’ Alignment coalesce locally, partnering with organizations such as the Chicago Teachers Union, SEIU, and Extinction Rebellion for our Green New Deal Town Hall, we have a long way to go in building sustainable relationships with local grassroots organizations on the South and West Sides of the city.

From my perspective, what we’ve failed to do is show up for other organizations, and show up where they’re at. Because a large concentration of our members--overwhelmingly white--live on the North Side of the city, that’s where people tend to flock to our events. I’ve worked to address this, inviting members to events happening in Woodlawn or on the Southeast Side, but I’ve still struggled to see enough people actually show up.

When we do show up, we seem to only show up and reach out when it’s convenient for our movement. We’re quick to send partnership letters when we have actions, when we’re hosting a town hall, or when we need people from other organizations to speak at rallies. Genuine and authentic partnerships are formed outside of the glamorous whirlwind of actions and convenings. They happen intentionally and out of the spotlight, when we show up and support the work of other movements on their terms, not just on our own.

You don’t understand diversity, equity, and inclusion.

As defined by independentsector.org, a national membership organization for the charitable community, diversity includes “all the ways in which people differ, encompassing the different characteristics that make one individual or group different from another.” Equity is “fair treatment, access, opportunity, and advancement for all people, while at the same time striving to identify and eliminate barriers that have prevented the full participation of some groups.” Inclusion is “the act of creating environments in which any group can be and feel welcomed, respected, supported, and valued to fully participate.”

Without a comprehensive understanding of each of these definitions, it will be difficult for people within a movement to create a process, the “how,” to get to a more diverse and inclusive movement.

Diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) are not values that should fall solely on the shoulders of a single group or person, and particularly not just on POC, which is often what I see in organizations that have recognized the need to push DEI efforts. Often, these efforts fall on POC because they are the group aware of the ever-present inequities and racism perpetuated in movements. White allies must step up and work harder to dismantle the blind spots they have that don’t align with DEI principles. (A great resource for dispelling those blind spots and working to actively understand racism is Ibram Kendi’s How to Be an Antiracist.)

Everyone is responsible. We all have a hand in designing a movement that is appealing, welcoming, and truly open to all. Like lava moving pieces of the Earth’s crust in plate tectonics, our collective push is what drives us towards stopping the climate crisis. Having even a few people who don’t understand what DEI truly means can stall the momentum.

First, for white participants in the climate movement to truly understand what diversity, equity, and inclusion look like in action, the Jemez principles should be a guiding document for movements.

Written in 1996 at a meeting hosted by the Southwest Network for Environmental and Economic Justice, the Jemez Principles offered a guide for mainstream environmental organizations—most of which were mainly white at the time—who were interested in organizing with low-income communities and communities of color. The principles include statements ranging from “Be inclusive” to “Let People Speak for Themselves,” from “Build Just Relationships Among Ourselves” to “Commitment to Self-Transformation.”

Though I’ve been introduced to the principles twice in various Sunrise settings, this is not enough for a person to fully understand the message of what these principles aspire to convey and then incorporate them into daily behavior. The Jemez Principles should be brought up at every Sunrise meeting and drilled into the minds of organizers. And though Sunrise also has guiding principles, one of which alludes to diversity (“We are Americans from all walks of life”), it does not offer tactical actions people can adopt to truly be inclusive.

Some specific tactics climate groups should take on, besides studying the Jemez Principles as a guide to influence how we organize, include prioritizing POC when media opportunities arise—especially given that historically, our narratives, told by us, have been muted. We should make it clear that POC should not feel pressured to risk arrest for the sake of the movement, unless they desire to do so, given the increased risks associated with immigration status, finances, job access, etc. Diversity efforts should be focused not just on racial and ethnic diversity, but on bringing in and supporting people across the spectrum of socioeconomic status, education, gender, and ability, to name a few.

Some readers may be nodding their heads in agreement, but be wary of the instinct to assume you’re doing a thorough job at inclusive movement building. To begin to assess whether your movement not only understands DEI, but is also operating with a DEI lens, take a moment to reflect on the questions below:

Does the diversity of your organization reflect the diversity of the city you’re organizing within?

Does your organization meet outside of the city’s center or downtown area? If not, does it at least rotate locations to ensure access?

Does your organization plan for accessibility needs when planning events?

Is the leadership of your movement (e.g. for Sunrise, hub coordinators or core team) diverse in gender, race, socioeconomic status, ability, etc.?

***

I often daydream about the weekend I spent in Detroit, the energy I felt in Cass Park, surrounded by so many different people united over a desire to stop the climate crisis in an equitable and just way. The rally was a depiction of a future I had, up until then, not yet seen: true representation and diversity within the environmental movement. It was a peek into the possibility of what true, diverse movement building can look like. We must continue organizing in a way that creates spaces that look and feel like Cass Park.

To really bring about a political revolution in which something like a Green New Deal can pass—a Green New Deal rooted in policy that will center frontline communities, protect biodiversity and ecosystems, respect indigenous land and sovereignty, and push for sustainable agriculture—we need to mobilize everyone. Which means we have a lot of work to do to build a more diverse and inclusive movement.

I hope my experience and words offer next steps on how anyone reading can work to do so.

Dejah Powell is an analyst at Civic Consulting Alliance, a non-profit whose mission is to make Chicago a better place for everyone to live and work. She is also the fundraising team lead for the Chicago hub of Sunrise Movement.