Greening the Hood
we're not exactly jumping on the eco bandwagon. don't we want to save the planet?
2007-07-25
By Terry Glover

In an attempt to get us to take this whole global warming thing seriously, eco comrades led by the likes of Bono and Al Gore have been drumming into a busily consuming public the message that we are sucking up and discarding resources at an alarming rate. It seems that America’s mastery of consumption has overtaken the greater good and we are, scientists tell us, plowing headlong toward a cataclysmic event.

The recent LiveEarth eco fest featured dozens of concerts on seven continents over 24 hours. Hundreds of performers including The Beastie Boys and The Police took part in the extravaganza – all for the sake of convincing mankind to reuse, reduce and recycle. Yet, in the midst of all this sincerity, there was a reality that no one seemed willing to deliver: it ain’t easy bein’ green.

The notion of having to work at it, of going without was not what concertgoers wanted to hear and not what promoters wanted to say. Sacrifice, it seems, can kill a festive vibe.

But, even as Kanye West took the stage, spitting out an awkward rhyme over "Message in a Bottle"; as Alicia Keyes delivered an earnest PSA about polluting our lakes; as Luda proclaimed the day one of "education," the overarching message was that we needed to be led to the truth. What they missed was one very simple truth: black folks have been green for a very long time.

That reality comes not from a place of nobility, but from the knowledge that, for most of our time in this country, we as a community have spent a lot of time sacrificing -- getting by recycling what was left over from the good stuff. Call it reluctant environmentalism. How much have we recycled? Let me count the ways:

Chittlins (or "chitterlings" as they’re called on the Food Network) occupy a dubious place on our soul food pyramid. We all know how we got ‘em, forced to scavenge for something to put on the tables of our slave quarters and sharecroppers cabins. But, over generations the preparation of pig intestines has been raised to a fine and exacting art.

And who didn’t (doesn’t) have a coffee can full of grease sitting on the stove, a varietal blend of whatever was left over from working out with a skillet. That can stayed put and put to use servicing culinary needs as they arose.

Add to that drying clothes on a clothesline; piling seven people into a five-passenger car; handing over a still valid transit pass to somebody waiting for the No. 4; turning off lights; using fans, not air conditioning; wearing your brothers hand-me-downs and bathing in his leftover water. And let us not forget the urban gardens sprouting, once again, our tradition of growing the food you need to eat and eating all that you grow. Modest means is the spouse of necessity, the mother of invention.

All of this goes to make the point that progress cannot be had without giving, sometimes ‘til it hurts. So it’s understandable, then that we have not thrown ourselves onto the compost heap with the same gusto as the neo-eco recruits. The tiring and never-ending presumption of "discovery" is the same thing that made women who had been, for generations, watching their mothers and grandmothers hold down full time jobs and still take excellent care of their families roll their eyes and distance themselves from the women’s movement as if to say, "Please. Where have you been?"

And though the eco movement of today promises to be the salvation of tomorrow, never let it be said that we weren’t on that tract as long ago as yesterday.

(Terry Glover writes about pop culture and whatever strikes her fancy for Ebonyjet.com