Cookies help us run our site more efficiently.

By clicking “Accept”, you agree to the storing of cookies on your device to enhance site navigation, analyze site usage, and assist in our marketing efforts. View our Privacy Policy for more information or to customize your cookie preferences.

Search results

GoGreenNation News: Op-ed: How my family’s culinary traditions opened my eyes to invisible environmental threats
GoGreenNation News: Op-ed: How my family’s culinary traditions opened my eyes to invisible environmental threats

Every Mexican Independence Day, Día de Muertos and Christmas, my grandmother would lovingly prepare classic dishes like Pozole and Romeritos using her prized glazed clay pottery. As a child, these meals were the highlight of my year — flavors immersed in tradition, memories carved into each plate. The kitchen alive with the aroma of spices, the laughter of family echoing through the air and the clay pottery, glowing under a soft light, holding the essence of our heritage. It was a scene straight out of a book. But little did I know within those beautiful pots lay a silent intruder into our culinary traditions and bloodstreams, casting a shadow over our most cherished moments. To read a version of this story in Spanish click here. Haz clic aquí para leer este reportaje en español.Despite seven years as a practicing physician, I’d remained oblivious to this danger in our kitchens well into adulthood. The revelation came after I left the medical field and became a toxicology student in the U.S., when I realized that Mexicans were unwittingly exposed to lead through this beloved tradition, as the brain-damaging metal lurked in many of these clay pots, leaching into our food and drinks.It was a personal awakening to insidious environmental harms and the health profession’s inadequate training and response to them. Cultural traditions hold deep meaning in our lives, often forming the backbone of our heritage and identity. However, when cherished practices pose hidden health risks, such as lead exposure from traditional glazed clay pottery, the conflict between preserving culture and ensuring safety emerges. Despite well-documented dangers of lead, this practice persists in many Mexican households, partly due to a lack of awareness and insufficient intervention from the medical community. My journey of discovering this danger highlights the urgent need for better environmental health education among healthcare professionals and underscores the importance of finding solutions that safeguard both our traditions and our health. Awakening to the importance of environmental healthLead exposure can have severe health consequences, especially for children. Lead is a known neurotoxin, which means it damages the brain. Even at low levels of exposure it can affect children’s brain development, reduce IQ scores, cause attention disorders and violent and aggressive behaviors. Lead exposure can also cause anemia, hypertension, kidney, heart and reproductive damage. There is no safe level of exposure to lead, according to the World Health Organization. Cultural traditions hold deep meaning in our lives, often forming the backbone of our heritage and identity. However, when cherished practices pose hidden health risks, such as lead exposure from traditional glazed clay pottery, the conflict between preserving culture and ensuring safety emerges. I couldn't shake the image of my grandmother's Pozole, a dish that symbolized love and heritage, now tainted by the very pots that gave it life. Discarding my grandmother's pottery felt like betraying our culture. It shouldn't be this way—we shouldn't have to sacrifice our traditions for safety. Thus began my journey of introspection and advocacy, fueled by the desire to protect our traditions while safeguarding our health.Returning to school after practicing as a physician for years in Mexico was daunting. Many considered it foolish. But amidst the skepticism and self-doubt, there was a glimmer of clarity: the more I understood the impact of the environment on health, the more my years in the medical field made sense. I treated countless patients with diseases that could have been prevented, but my lack of education in environmental health did not let me see that. This oversight remains widespread, as nursing and medical schools in Mexico have yet to incorporate any environmental health training. As one of my medical school professors used to say: “The eyes do not see what the mind does not know.” How can we expect healthcare professionals to be aware of these dangers if they were never taught to recognize or identify them? The neglected danger hidden in potteryOne of the hardest things about immigrating to a different country is remembering the things you can no longer do. For me, it was the weekends. Back in Mexico, I could visit my grandparents just down the road and enjoy a meal with them or with the whole family. The memories of being able to talk to my cousins about their lives and seeing my nephews grow up while enjoying my grandma's cooking were what kept me going. Every time I thought about those moments, the same image of glazed clay pottery came to my head.The lead in traditional glazed clay pottery is a practice passed down from Spanish communities. Although Spain eliminated this practice in the 18th century, in Mexico it remains deeply embedded in the artisanal pottery tradition, with an estimate of 70,000 pottery workers in the country. A recent study showed that other countries in Latin America, Africa and Southeast Asia seem to have a similar problem of lead in ceramic cookware. Returning to school after practicing as a physician for years in Mexico was daunting. Many considered it foolish. But amidst the skepticism and self-doubt, there was a glimmer of clarity: the more I understood the impact of the environment on health, the more my years in the medical field made sense.Due to the traditional process, most ovens in pottery workers' workshops are open and cannot reach the high temperatures needed to prevent lead from leaching into food and drinks. But even for those pottery workers who have closed ovens, they still expose themselves and their families to the toxic while working with the lead-containing glaze. This health threat is particularly strong for the most marginalized populations. While my family reserved the use of glazed clay pottery for special occasions, millions of Mexicans rely on these dishes for daily cooking. This reliance is especially pronounced among communities facing economic hardships or belonging to Indigenous populations. Unfortunately, the very areas where these communities reside often overlap with regions where polluting industries are concentrated, compounding the environmental injustices and pollution they face. In an ideal world, every Mexican should be able to enjoy their cherished dishes using their favorite pottery. So how do you solve an issue that affects the lives of millions of Mexicans while encouraging them to keep their traditions?Acting against leadIn 2019, I joined the Mundo Químico collaborative, a group of Mexican scientists and professionals committed to the development of environmental health policies and programs in the country. Lead exposure in Mexico often remains invisible to policymakers, resulting in scarce funding and neglect from the government. The insidious nature of environmental health issues makes them difficult to detect, especially for those not directly affected. Consequently, governmental initiatives are lacking, perpetuating the cycle of disregard. This invisibility undermines efforts to combat lead exposure and exacerbates the environmental injustices faced by marginalized communities. As a result, the last National Survey of Health and Nutrition in Mexico, found that around 17% of children between the ages of 1 and 4 have lead poisoning.In response to this issue, Mundo Químico has been collaborating since 2019 with various governmental entities to teach artisans how to produce the same beautiful pottery using a different, lead-free glaze, as well as developing a stamp for those lead-free products. This aims to preserve the cultural heritage while ensuring the safety and health of both the artisans and the consumers. Our greatest challenge is still how invisible these issues are for policymakers and the general public. The health effects often manifest over years, making it difficult for people to connect them to pollution sources—a daunting task, even for medical professionals. This ignorance gives polluting industries an unfair advantage.Governmental initiatives are lacking, perpetuating the cycle of disregard. This invisibility undermines efforts to combat lead exposure and exacerbates the environmental injustices faced by marginalized communities.For too long, Mexico has neglected to protect its people from chemical exposures. This needs to stop. We need comprehensive solutions that prioritize the health and well-being of every Mexican. We need to train healthcare professionals in environmental health to prevent oversights like the ones I made, inadvertently misdiagnosing patients exposed to common contaminants. We need stronger programs and stricter policies to eliminate lead-containing glaze from our cultural practices. It's time to shift from policies favoring industry interests over public health to measures that prioritize the safety of individuals and communities while safeguarding our traditions. Through these concerted efforts, we can pave the way for a healthier future, where cultural traditions and well-being harmoniously coexist.Nearly a decade since leaving clinical practice, I still face questions about my choice. Yet, this journey has affirmed my purpose. While I may not treat diseases directly, my advocacy has the power to shed light on environmental justice issues affecting millions of Mexicans. The fight is far from over, but I hold onto the belief that with perseverance and collaboration, we can create a future where tradition and health thrive hand in hand.Six months ago, I returned home and visited my grandma. Despite her memory not being as sharp and her struggle to walk, her face lit up with joy at seeing me. During this visit, I purchased lead-free pottery from the pottery workers we have been collaborating with, thus returning a cherished tradition to my family. It was a moment of triumph—a small step towards a larger goal. Every single Mexican should have the opportunity to do the exact same thing for their family and I will work tirelessly until this dream becomes a reality.This essay was produced through the Agents of Change in Environmental Justice fellowship, a partnership between Environmental Health News and Columbia University's Mailman School of Public Health. Agents of Change empowers emerging leaders from historically excluded backgrounds in science and academia to reimagine solutions for a just and healthy planet.

Cinema Verde Presents: The Great Divide
Cinema Verde Presents: The Great Divide

Now Playing | Twenty minutes outside of Visalia, amidst the seemingly endless rows of citrus trees, Yolanda Cuevas packs enchiladas with shredded chicken for her husband Benjamin, their adult daughters and two teenaged grandchildren in her modest single-story home. Their house is the first one off the main drag, one of 83 lining the two crumbling roads that comprise the tiny town of Tooleville. Yolanda must wash the tomatoes for the salsa first in the sink and then again with a splash of clean water from a 5-gallon jug. The process is arduous, and though she’s resigned to do it, she’s not happy about it. Along with Tooleville’s several hundred other residents, Yolanda’s family has survived on bi-weekly delivery of water to their homes for the past 12 years. It’s an annoyance for the family, and it’s expensive for the State of California, which has been paying for the replacement water since the discovery of Chromium-6 (the same chemical featured in Erin Brokovich) in the water. The simpler solution would be to consolidate the town’s water system with that of its larger, affluent neighbor to the west, Exeter. And for this purpose, Yolanda has become a reluctant activist, attending community meetings in Tooleville and lobbying for consolidation at Exeter’s city council meetings under the expert guidance of Pedro Hernandez, an organizer with the Leadership Counsel. While Exeter has resisted the consolidation since it was first proposed, organizers like Pedro feel that this could be the year Exeter finally succumbs to the growing community pressure and brings Tooleville into the fold. The decision will echo around the Central Valley and across the state, as hundreds of similar community water systems find themselves in a nearly identical predicament.

Cinema Verde interviews Casey Beck
Cinema Verde interviews Casey Beck

Cinema Verde presents an interview with Casey Beck the director of "The Great Divide." Twenty minutes outside of Visalia, amidst the seemingly endless rows of citrus trees, Yolanda Cuevas packs enchiladas with shredded chicken for her husband Benjamin, their adult daughters and two teenaged grandchildren in her modest single-story home. Their house is the first one off the main drag, one of 83 lining the two crumbling roads that comprise the tiny town of Tooleville. Yolanda must wash the tomatoes for the salsa first in the sink and then again with a splash of clean water from a 5-gallon jug. The process is arduous, and though she’s resigned to do it, she’s not happy about it. Along with Tooleville’s several hundred other residents, Yolanda’s family has survived on bi-weekly delivery of water to their homes for the past 12 years. It’s an annoyance for the family, and it’s expensive for the State of California, which has been paying for the replacement water since the discovery of Chromium-6 (the same chemical featured in Erin Brokovich) in the water. The simpler solution would be to consolidate the town’s water system with that of its larger, affluent neighbor to the west, Exeter. And for this purpose, Yolanda has become a reluctant activist, attending community meetings in Tooleville and lobbying for consolidation at Exeter’s city council meetings under the expert guidance of Pedro Hernandez, an organizer with the Leadership Counsel. While Exeter has resisted the consolidation since it was first proposed, organizers like Pedro feel that this could be the year Exeter finally succumbs to the growing community pressure and brings Tooleville into the fold. The decision will echo around the Central Valley and across the state, as hundreds of similar community water systems find themselves in a nearly identical predicament. Our full catalog of video interviews and streaming films is available to members at cinemaverde.org.

GoGreenNation News: Why a “fracking refugee” is attending the global plastics treaty negotiations
GoGreenNation News: Why a “fracking refugee” is attending the global plastics treaty negotiations

Jill Hunkler, an Ohio resident who considers herself a “fracking refugee,” is telling her family’s story at the global plastics treaty negotiations in Ottawa this week, where negotiators from about 175 countries are working to advance a treaty to address global plastic pollution.“I was forced to leave my home that I built with my own hands,” she told Environmental Health News. “I lived in Somerset Township, Ohio, where my sister, my mom and I had 13 acres of land and we had spent years building homes on it that we loved, but then 78 fracking well pads were built within five miles of our home.”Air pollution from the fracking operations sickened her and her family, Hunkler said, and they experienced symptoms like headaches, nausea, rashes, body aches and difficulty breathing that they hadn’t experienced before the wells were drilled. The family tried to get help from regulators, but after years of suffering with little action, they opted to move.Her family moved to another property, she said. “But eventually fracking showed up there too, and I moved again to try and escape it. So now I’m twice a fracking refugee.”More than 99% of plastic is made from fossil fuels, and as the world transitions to renewable energy, fossil fuel companies — particularly those invested in fracking — are driving a new plastics boom to stay profitable. For example, in the Ohio River Valley, where Hunkler is from, Shell recently began operations at its massive Pennsylvania plastics plant that converts fracked ethane gas into plastic pellets, many of which are used to create single-use plastic products like bags and packaging.Since starting up in 2022, Shell’s Pennsylvania plastics plant has been fined millions of dollars for violating clean air laws and is being sued by environmental advocacy groups over potential health impacts from harmful emissions. Last week, Pennsylvania’s Attorney General Michelle Henry also announced charges against Shell for violating Pennsylvania’s Clean Streams laws with industrial waste during construction of the pipelines that bring ethane feedstock from fracked natural gas to the plastics plant. Concerns about pollution from the plant have also caused families to move away from the region.After becoming a fracking refugee, Hunkler spent eight years fighting to stop a similar plastics plant from being built near her home in Ohio — a project that has been put on hold indefinitely.“When people think about the health impacts of plastics they tend to think about harmful microplastics in our bodies, which is really important, but it’s also important to look at the devastating public health impacts all the way down the supply chain” Hunkler said. “Fracking and building pipelines in order to create more poisonous plastic is ruining people’s lives.”Tensions at the plastic pollution treaty talksIf the current trajectory for the plastics industry continues unabated, plastic manufacturing is estimated to account for more than a third of the growth in oil demand by 2030 and nearly half by 2050—ahead of trucks, aviation, and shipping, according to the International Energy Agency.The stated goal of the global plastics treaty is to end plastic pollution by 2040. Hunkler, like many other activists, believe this goal won’t be achieved unless plastic production stops. They are supporting a version of the plastic treaty supported by a group of “High Ambition” countries that includes slowing down plastic production via bans, restrictions or caps."It’s important to look at the devastating public health impacts all the way down the supply chain" – Jill Hunkler, an Ohio resident who considers herself a “fracking refugee.” Meanwhile, plastic industry lobbyists – also attending the negotiations in Ottawa – are promoting plastic’s beneficial uses, such as medical products and reducing food waste. The plastics industry, alongside a coalition of mostly fossil-fuel-producing countries, are pushing “chemical recycling” as a solution to plastic pollution, but environmental advocates say the process is energy-intensive, creates toxic air and water pollution, and fails to actually reduce plastic waste. It has also proven difficult to profit from chemical recycling operations — none of the approximately ten operational plants in the US are currently operating at full capacity, according to a report from the advocacy group Beyond Plastic. This month a chemical recycling plant in Oregon was shuttered, and a proposed plant in Pennsylvania was canceled amid concerns about the efficacy and feasibility of chemical recycling.“I hope sharing my story will help the negotiators in Ottawa recognize that fracking and extracting fossil fuels to keep making more plastic is toxic,” Hunkler said. “With the exception of the small amount of plastic that’s needed for medical and other essential uses, we do not need plastic to function as a society. It’s a relatively new product on the planet, and the convenience of it is not worth jeopardizing the health of our children and future generations.”

Join us to forge
a sustainable future

Our team is always growing.
Become a partner, volunteer, sponsor, or intern today.
Let us know how you would like to get involved!

CONTACT US