
Sporting a jovial smile, Antonio González strides across the dais to the sound of welcoming applause. As González reaches center stage, a hush overtakes the room. It is September, 2006 and the 1,200 Latino leaders gathered in Los Angeles for the Latino Congreso — the first comprehensive gathering of Latino leaders in 29 years — do not expect to hear about jobs, health care or even immigration this day. “The theme of today’s session is the environment and health — not usually associated with Latino issues,” González begins.
When the first Earth Day was held in 1970, few words in the eco-vocabulary translated into Spanish. Today, González is a prime example of a new flavor of green activist, the so-called Salsa Verde environmentalist. Named for a spicy Mexican green sauce of tomatillos and hot peppers, the Salsa Verde movement is built on words like familia, comunidad and esperanza. Concerns about parks, clean air, clean water and healthy neighborhoods are the themes of this emerging movement, and Los Angeles is its epicenter. Associated with the sounds and smells of their cultural heritage, Salsa Verde places Latinos solidly at the environmental table.
Bold and pragmatic, Antonio González is president of the influential Southwest Voter Registration Education Project, the largest and oldest non-partisan Latino voter participation group in the US. “In assuming responsibility for the Latino community and other communities, you have to take on broader issues,” he cheerleads the audience before introducing LA’s ebullient mayor, Antonio Villaraigosa. Villaraigosa approaches the podium and embraces González like an old friend.
González’ affiliations grant him access to influential officeholders like the mayor, whose plans include the greening of Los Angeles, and California Assembly Speaker Fabian Nuñez, who passed a global warming bill in September heralded by activists for its ambitious approach to curbing climate change. In a year when historic immigration marches dominate the national agenda, González insists the environment also be a priority for the five-day Latino Congreso. Consequently an entire day is dedicated to environmental issues important to Latinos, with workshops on topics from wilderness to energy policy.
During one such workshop, speaker Robert Garcia, Executive Director of the City Project, stands in front of a map of LA county sprayed with tiny pinpoints, each dot representing a city park. Garcia, whose humble demeanor belies the inspirational leadership that has enabled him to transform so many of LA’s worst neighborhoods, adjusts his red tie nervously while reporting this grim fact: Los Angeles has fewer acres of park space per 1,000 residents than any major city in the country. “Children of color living in poverty with no access to a car are also the ones living farthest from parks,” he laments.
Garcia envisions an LA teeming with parks and schools. “It’s not just about protecting the Earth, it’s about taking care of the Earth and its people, and economic vitality,” he enthuses. A distinguished public interest attorney, Garcia articulates a case for environmentalism in service of the people. He has co-authored several policy briefs on parks and health, including statistics showing that LA County Assembly Districts with the highest proportion of overweight children correlate to the highest concentration of people of color. Lack of safe outdoor play space contributes to this problem, he insists.
Bolstered by hard evidence, Garcia started a coalition in 1999 to create the 32-acre site of the recent “Cornfields” experiment in a largely Latino community near Chinatown, where 30 percent of the population lives below the poverty line. Following its success, he catalyzed support for a similar 40-acre park called Taylor Yards just north of downtown and Baldwin Hills Park in the heart of historic African American Los Angeles. Due to Garcia’s dogged determination, five such Los Angeles parks exist or are in development — and last September 23, the Cornfields was opened as Los Angeles Historic Park. “To go down there on the opening of Cornfields, to see children playing, is a very moving experience for me,” says Garcia. Victories like this, he says, “keep me going.”
While Garcia connects the dots on park inequities, Irma Muñoz leads people-powered environmentalism. Upon learning that Latinos are victims of environmental racism, disproportionately impinged upon by environmental problems, Muñoz launched a crusade. “We can fight for better jobs, housing and education, but what good is it if we’re getting cancer?” she asks.
Founding Mujeres de la Tierra — “Women of the Earth” — was Muñoz’ answer. The first Latina environmental organization in the country, it includes six chapters formed by women around LA County, focusing on critical environmental concerns in their neighborhoods. “Mujeres gives groups of women a platform so they can go to the City Council, the School Board and be a force to be reckoned with,” she explains.
Muñoz adorns herself with the confidence she hopes to instill in her neighbors. Dressed in vibrant purple and red, she greets each señora and her children at meetings. Her strength and self-assurance encourage the women, most of whom are focused on their families, many of whom struggle to make ends meet. With her experience in leadership development, Muñoz is a mentor to women hoping to improve life for their families.
Muñoz, who also serves as president of Mujeres, pushes for environmental changes people can see in their daily lives. Her eyes sparkle as she explains, “People don’t want to hear about big, general, vague ideas; people want to be part of something so that their contribution is valuable.” So in El Monte, a Mujeres chapter plans a neighborhood park. Women in Canoga Park help their neighbors participate in the Los Angeles River Revitalization Master Plan.
González, Garcia, and Muñoz: three leaders with different approaches — and shared goals. Individually they have influenced California legislators, initiated five world-class parks and founded neighborhood improvement groups. Together, they are the core ingredients of Salsa Verde, a recipe for change in communities most affected by environmental problems. Perched atop the dais at the Latino Congreso, Antonio González trumpets their call. “Do you want parks? Si! Do you want clean water? Si! Do you want clean air? Pues, si!”
Nate Springer sips yerba mate while he contemplates the vida verde. He directs neighborhood projects in the San Gabriel Valley and writes about the environment and community service.