By Emily Millar
For the people of Maverick County, the cultural and environmental degradation taking place along the Rio Grande due to the Dos Republicas coal mine near Eagle Pass is part of their daily life. For others outside of those communities, Eagle Pass may just be a town on the border (if they’ve even heard of it), and Dos Republicas sounds like it could be the next Mexican beer brand. Until recently, I fell into the second category.
My introduction to this evolving crisis began with an assignment to synthesize an article recently written by the Texas Observer. This article, dedicated to the Dos Republicas coal mine, follows the journey of Juan Mancias and George and Martha Baxter as they fight for cultural and environmental justice. This mine threatens historical artifacts and burials sites according to many Native Texans and may be a source of multiple different types of environmental contamination according to the Baxters.
In 2011, the fight against the mine amalgamated in a petition filed by the Kickapoo Nation which asked for a hearing on the mine owner’s request to double its permitted land size. The Baxters and their citizens group -- Maverick County Environmental and Public Health Association -- were able to collect 8,100 signatures for the petition, but the Kickapoo pulled out unexpectedly in May 2012 and Dos Republicas was eventually awarded their permit.
This past April, as readers of this blog know, several Native Texan groups led a nine-mile march from Independence Bridge to the front gates of Dos Republicas. Nearly 200 people, including the Baxters and dozens of tribes including the Comanches, Apaches, and the American Indian Movement, showed up in a historic show of solidarity to protest the mine. This was the latest action in a fight that has been going on for nearly 20 years.
As I read, and subsequently wrote, I began to learn the stories of Eagle Pass residents. I felt the familiar pang that often accompanies stories of environmental injustice and degradation. The same feeling of sadness and dismay that someone well versed in environmental destruction can grow used to. I would try my best to write an article to help raise more awareness for the problem and those affected by it, but that’s all I would do.
I have spent the majority of my life in a quiet suburb located in Northwest Austin. I was born to white parents and raised by a single mother who afforded my sister and I the opportunity to attend 12 years of private schooling. I attend one of the top universities in the state and (as I like to think) the country. I am privileged. I don’t need to worry about being racially targeted. My finances are secure. I am healthy. And it is exactly this privilege that has enabled me to take advantage of opportunities like my current internship with the Sierra Club, which will continue to open more opportunities to me in the future. This internship, and consequently my privilege, led me to TCEQ headquarters to witness and participate in the latest injustice in the Dos Republicas saga.
On the morning of July 6, I arrived to the Texas Commission on Environmental Quality’s main office and was greeted by a group of a few dozen people chanting and holding signs proclaiming “People > Profit” and “Keep it in the Ground.” They were there to hopefully prevent the TCEQ from granting a wastewater permit to Dos Republicas. I was there to support and help.
Here I was, standing next to people such as Martha Baxter, someone I had researched and written about. I was surrounded by her neighbors, people whose story I was trying to tell without any true understanding of the injustice being done literally in their backyard. Their passion, their drive, their dedication to standing up to the problem was inspiring. The thought of participating in a public demonstration is equivalent to stage fright for me, but I was watching one of the amazing facets of our democracy unfold before my eyes. I couldn’t help clapping and chanting a bit, even if it was off in the background.
Regrettably, although not shockingly, the TCEQ decided to grant Dos Republicas the wastewater permit, although they did add in some extra monitoring measures to serve as a post mortem consolation prize.
After the decision, the people of Eagle Pass, local government leaders, and environmental groups gathered for a press conference to discuss the events that had just transpired. I handed out signs, giving a red and gold poster proclaiming “say no to the mine!” to a 4 year old named Joaquin. While he was originally enthusiastic about his important role of sign holder for all of the news cameras, the tedious task of standing still became too much for him to bare and he eventually ran off.
I wanted his mother to be able to continue to participate in the protest, so I offered to chase after him. When I caught up with him I asked him for his thoughts on what was going on. He came to the conclusion that the TCEQ meeting was “boring” and was more interested in my opinions on Finding Dory and Frozen than anything else. Wearing a white t-shirt and a friendly smile, Joaquin stole my heart.
He is why this issue matters. Here is a 4 year old boy just trying to watch a Disney movie here or there and earn a piece of candy for staying quiet during a long “boring” meeting, just trying to live a normal, healthy life. This is the case for all of the children and residents of Eagle Pass, but instead of being afforded the basic human right of clean air and water, they are persistently being told “you don’t matter” by the State of Texas when it grants Dos Republicas the right to pollute their water supply.
This issue is part of me now. I saw the faces and heard the voices first hand of those affected by this continuous assault on the environment, Native American communities, and the town of Eagle Pass. I sang out in the sun with them, offered my support to them, and identified with a 4 year old probably more than a 20-something should care to admit. I now know what Dos Republicas is, I know who the people of Eagle Pass and Maverick County are, and I am appalled by the TCEQ’s most recent decision. If you take one thing away from this article, I hope it is this: despite the continued issuance of pollution permits, this latest ruling is a disappointing defeat, not the end. The people of Eagle Pass and Maverick County fight on. I hope, like me, you’ll fight with them.