Beyond A Headline: Understanding the Climate of Black Intentionality and Presence
A plea for support for a life cut far too short
What comes to mind when you think of New Orleans, Louisiana? If you’re like me, it’s unforgettable music, delicious food, lively people, street parades, jazz funerals, “second lines,” Mardi Gras, rows of iconic colorful homes (known as shotgun houses), and an impeccably strong sense of community. The city’s immense vulnerability to climate change might also come to mind. According to FEMA risk scores, New Orleans is one of America’s least climate-resilient cities and carries more than its fair share of deadly hurricanes, storm surges, and coastal flooding. Not too far away in Isle de Jean Charles, Louisiana, America’s first climate refugees are being forced off their land as the sea swallows their homes.
Nearly 20 years after the historic disaster of Hurricane Katrina, the superstorm maintains immense influence over the city’s concept of itself. As one local told me, “There are two phases to life in this city: there is everything that happened pre-Hurricane Katrina, and then what came after because absolutely everything changed with that event.” That defining trauma still lingers, and yet, residents have been forced to live through multiple other hurricanes since, stressing their personal and community resources. Looking at the future, anxiety, grief, and anger can arise when considering the compounding climate impacts locals will need to adapt to (or migrate away from), and post-traumatic stress can be triggered when the announcement of yet another evacuation occurs. In short, multi-faceted supports are needed to protect community mental health and boost wellbeing in the face of these trends.
My colleagues and I wondered if intergenerational group conversations involving climate-anxious youth and caring elders might help communities navigate climate distress and build connections that help residents mitigate and adapt to worsening climate impacts. We launched a pilot of a community-minded intervention to test it out. The result was Climate Conversations, a program we are expanding to include a train-the-trainer model with a community organizing structure to spread and scale. I would love to tell you all about what I learned from co-creating this program with community members and our plans for accelerating its impact going forth, but this post is not actually about that intervention. It’s about one of our participants from New Orleans, Ashton Russell, who showed up at each meeting with immense presence, curiosity, and care for the climate-related experiences and perspectives of others.
Tragically, on December 7, 2023, after viewing most of the Los Angeles Lakers vs the New Orleans Pelicans game, Ashton was shot and killed. His murder came entirely out of the blue. He was not known for putting himself or others in positions of danger, and the idea that horrific violence killed Ashton sent severe shockwaves to the members of his family, friends, coworkers, and several communities, not least the Climate Conversations network.
According to the Giffords Law Center, Black Americans overall were 10 times more likely to be killed by gun violence than their white counterparts. In New Orleans, Black men made up 30% of the population but were 80% of the city’s homicides, according to the most recent data. Bridging the gap between violence and climate change in Black communities is crucial. It is important to recognize the intersectionality of these issues and the disproportionate impact they have on Black communities.
Over time, just through human nature, while trying to digest each tragedy like that which affected Ashton, we forget about the value and importance of human life, regardless of who was at fault. Unfortunately, this is right on theme for New Orleanians, as a new firearm bill has passed, allowing individuals to carry a handgun without a permit; this excludes “firearm-free zones” such as schools, courthouses, and military bases.
Ashton was an HIV/AIDS outreach worker in New Orleans. During his introduction to his peers, he often emphasized that one did not have to be infected with HIV/AIDS to be affected by it. He believed that the community needed to be aware and take action to prevent the spread of this disease. Ashton started applying the same belief in community-level education and engagement to build resilience to the climate crisis. Ashton’s involvement in the Climate Conversations program sparked a deep interest in him for helping his family and community prepare for the hurricanes, floods, and higher temperatures coming their way.
Ashton’s awful killing cut that short and underscores how traumas are not disconnected. The communities being hit hardest and first by the climate crisis are often also experiencing other traumas and systemic threats to wellbeing, like community-level violence, persistent poverty, and racism. As we continue to keep Ashton’s legacy alive, we must emphasize that people matter; Black men’s lives matter. Sometimes, we try not to unpack it because of the weight of it all. Ashton lived with intention; his presence was bold and unapologetic, and he communicated through action.
We have never done this kind of mutual aid fundraiser before at Gen Dread, but today, we are asking for your support as a way of combatting intersecting systematic injustices by raising funds to help Ashton’s family manage the costs associated with his death at this challenging time.
Ashton is survived by his mother, Allyson Russell Smith, two children, ages 18 and 4, and a brother, Alexander. Aside from the expense of a memorial service and burial, Ashton’s family is left without income to support his children’s education and care. Managing these expenses can be challenging, not to mention the emotional toll it takes to navigate the dynamics of a police investigation into the murder of a loved one while grieving this traumatic loss. Any funds collected beyond the direct costs of the memorial and burial will be used by Allyson to cover additional costs and lost income.
If you would like to support Ashton’s family, you can donate any amount (nothing is too small) at GoFundMe.
Thank you so very much for considering it.
xo Britt
Thank you for this incredibly powerful and moving post, which opened a window for me into one young man's life, as well as the interlocking crises he was caught up in. And it reaffirmed my faith in the central importance of the kind of community-building, dialogue-hosting initiatives you describe.
This is absolutely a devastating loss. We don’t see enough Black men willing to dive into the climate Justice space (and I understand that there are a number of reasons as to why). This young man was an activist to his core and his loss will be felt in the justice space. I applaud Gen Dread for highlighting how climate Justice must be intersectional. The Climate Conversations you all are leading is exactly what we need. I’d love to do something like that here in Houston, another climate vulnerable city that is not prepared for the ongoing climate crisis. Will highlight his GoFundMe and contribute what I can. Wishing Gen Dread DEEP care! 🌻🌎❤️