When Harriet Festing is asked about her environmental heroes, one of the first people she mentions is Jackie Jones.
In 2021, Jones reached out to Festing’s nonprofit organization, Anthropocene Alliance, asking for its help marshaling resources to combat a chronic crisis of urban flooding in her hometown of Reidsville, Georgia.
Jones, a retired IRS employee, had spent the previous five years trying to get local government to address infrastructure problems that left residents’ homes – including her own – flooded even after minor storms.
Working almost entirely on her own at first, Jones discovered her home was built on an inland wetland, making it and others more prone to flooding. Clogged and poorly maintained drainage systems compounded the problem. She formed a coalition of Reidsville residents to fight indifference at city hall and to engage county, state and federal agencies to intervene.
“It gives me hope to meet determined women like Jackie, people who are fighting to overcome environmental injustice,” says Festing. “It gives me energy as well.”
Festing has spent 35 years working to mitigate the impacts of climate change.
Born and raised in England, Festing developed a childhood interest in horticulture that blossomed into a career managing environmental programs. She worked with the British government’s Department of Energy and Climate Change before moving to Chicago to run the Center for Neighborhood Technology’s water program, charged with finding solutions to improve the city’s failing infrastructure. It was in the Windy City that she honed her expertise supporting neighborhoods frequently flooded by stormwater runoff.
“I had no idea that people's lives were being impacted by flooding in the way they were. There was a strong correlation between flooding and poverty,” Festing says.
“There were thousands of homes with flooded basements. People were just stuck. They couldn’t sell their homes, which they could no longer afford to repair, and they couldn’t get insurance. They were living in their attics, because the mold was so bad.”
She formed Anthropocene Alliance, also known as A2, in 2017 to work at the national level helping grassroots communities on the frontlines of climate change. These are places, she says, that are most at risk from flooding, wildfire, toxic waste, excessive heat and drought.
A2 draws its name from the time period in which human activity has a greater impact on environmental change than earth’s natural systems.
Communities of color and low-income communities, Festing says, often face the first and worst impacts of climate change. Historical “redlining” often resulted in Black and Latino neighborhoods formed in areas most vulnerable to environmental disaster, or located near toxic industrial sites.
“I wanted to find activists from across the country like the ones I'd been working with in Chicago,” she says. “They are everyday people impacted by environmental abuse and climate change. And they are saying, 'we’ve had enough.'”
A2 provides its members with a menu of services ranging from legal support to environmental engineers, to experts in hydrology, urban planning and public health.
Its network includes larger organizations like the National Fish and Wildlife Foundation, the Army Corps of Engineers, which has a program that does pro bono hydrological modeling, and the Center for Applied Environmental Sciences, which also offers pro bono services.
A2 also provides members with IT and strategic communications and technical assistance to write grant applications. In hurricane-prone Socastee, South Carolina, for example, A2 helped community leaders secure federal government funding to buy out 60 flooded homes in the Rosewood Estates neighborhood.
In Jones’ community of Reidsville, Georgia, A2 commissioned a study of several properties experiencing flooding, secured funding to study regional drainage patterns and technical support to design green infrastructure and a nature preserve.
For some, climate change can still seem a distant concern. For A2’s members impacted by disasters like urban flooding, it is deeply personal because the impacts are on home and family.
“This is stormwater mostly in your basement, often mixed with sewage. You get these big fountains coming out from toilets, from showers. It’s often not talked about because it's so disgusting,” she says.
“People use words like ‘seepage’ or ‘nuisance flooding,’ which makes it sound much less. So when I started to work with activists on the ground and hearing their stories, that was the most powerful thing I'd ever done in my life.”
Often, the hard, grinding work of environmental justice meets bureaucratic or political obstacles too big to overcome. Festing admits to sometimes getting discouraged, only to find strength from A2’s grassroots members.
“I've gone through phases when it's felt just really tough, when they've lost a large proportion of the cases that we are working on,” she says.
Our strength is bringing people together. We help them build power.
“I’m also very conscious of the strength they have. They've described to me how they are diminished and ridiculed and dismissed when they try to get their voices heard. Yet they continue.”
Festing says one of A2’s most important and satisfying roles is connecting grassroots activists through an online network where they can share and learn from each other’s experiences.
“When you feel you are the only one, and that everybody else either just doesn't care or doesn't have the energy to fight the abuse, you can feel so lonely and isolated. Our strength is bringing people together. We help them build power,” Festing says.
“Our members build a tremendous sense of solidarity knowing each other – and just knowing that we are there for them. That’s almost more important than anything.”
Today, A2 includes more than 350 member-communities across 50 U.S. states and territories. More than 70% of its members are led by women. Festing suspects that’s because women are often charged with managing their household, including during times of disaster.
“We don't raise the issues. Our members raise them at the point they come to us for help,” Festing says.
The online network has helped connect women like Jackie Jones with allies like Susan Liley of De Soto, Missouri, whose low-lying neighborhood is located on a flood plain that is regularly inundated with stormwater caused by new development.
Though the two women are from different backgrounds, they formed a friendship through their shared struggle, Festing says.
“Working with the terrific leaders we have is what inspires me. I try to follow their example and learn from them,” says Festing.
“People like Susan Liley and Jackie Jones haven't had the same privileges that I have had. And they're speaking on behalf of residents who've been dumped on. And are they still determined. They are not giving up. I’m in awe of their perseverance and determination.”
