Environmental Racism: DeLillo, Ozeki, and Boyle

By Faith Roncoroni

While the following essay does not directly refer to the American Indian Movement (AIM), the Pine Ridge Reservation, or Leonard Peltier, it examines mainstream culture’s perpetual mistreatment of native peoples through the manifestation of environmental racism. For decades, the United States targeted minorities to receive the brunt of environmental inconveniences and hazards. And, since American Indians still represent one of the most powerless and vulnerable minority groups, the government and large corporations take advantage of tribes’ poverty by desecrating the native holy land of the Black Hills with uranium and plutonium mining, contaminating reservation soil and water through waste dumping, and using the inaccurate, offensive stereotypes of indigenous peoples to further specific environmental causes.

Introduction

[1] A sewerage pipe, once used for waste disposal has been transformed into a playground. Its brown water seeps into the children’s clothes as they crawl through the tunnel. Its mud clings to their nail beds as they search for creatures. And its wild grass doorway shelters us from fully realizing the dangers that their castle harbors -- the brick red neon orange fortress walls that signal years of erosion. But we see the shattered edges and hear their giggles as they slosh through the rainwater that collected there over the last couple of days. Concerned for their safety, we coax them from their dwelling with a hula hoop and basketball.

The first child emerges.
No more than four years old.
Bare foot.
His faded navy Spiderman t-shirt hangs off of his wiry frame.
A girl, about the same age, follows him.
Permanently tanned.
Knotted shoulder length hair, the color of black licorice.
Pale yellow, almost white Dora the Explorer tank top.

[2] As they approach us, we notice hints of poverty. The girl looks as though bath water hasn’t touched her skin in days, while the boy’s smile reveals his decaying baby teeth. Their eyes salivate over our bags of food as we carry them into the house.

[3] We traveled over sixteen hundred miles to volunteer, and, as cliché as it sounds, to make a difference, but we didn’t realize the magnitude of the issues. We didn’t realize that this trip would change the way we viewed our culture. We didn’t realize that we would need to change the systems and corporations…

…but we are trying.
Gradually exposing the government’s façade.
Sharing our experience and knowledge.
One person at a time.

[4] For decades, the United States has carefully selected locations for hazardous testing, such as nuclear bomb detonations. The country has also systematically decided upon the locations of waste management practices, like sites for toxic landfills. Not surprisingly, the people most impacted by these decisions, the people whom the government chose to receive the brunt of the negative environmental and health side effects are minorities. Because of their vulnerability, smaller numbers, and weakened political power, marginalized people become the ideal targets for this “environmental racism.” Despite mainstream culture’s ignorance and indifference of this issue, environmental racism is becoming more prevalent in the works of environmental authors. For instance, Don DeLillo, Ruth Ozeki, and T. Coraghessan Boyle each explore different ecological problems, yet they all refer to environmental racism. DeLillo’s novel Underworld focuses on the toxicity of waste management practices in a consumerist society, but he also draws attention to the contemporary issue of environmental injustice and its lasting effects. Ozeki portrays the impact of Genetically Modified Organisms on potato farmers’ families in All Over Creation, yet she examines how people misuse American Indian stereotypes to further their own agendas. And, Boyle depicts the violence and sacrifice of activists in A Friend of the Earth, but through American Indian references, he questions the thought processes and goals of environmental radicals.

[5] Although each author emphasizes a different environmental controversy, all three novels raise the topic of environmental racism by focusing on mainstream culture’s ignorance, indifference, and exploitation of indigenous peoples. DeLillo and Ozeki educate their readers by citing recent examples of ecological injustice and focusing on the long-term effects of environment racism. In contrast, Boyle’s effort to reveal the misconceptions of indigenous peoples leads to romanticism and exploitation. Boyle succumbs to issues of environmental racism that DeLillo and Ozeki examine, by using the pervasive stereotypes of indigenous peoples to further his own cause, to deter others from environmental radicalism.

Dumping on Tonto

[6] In the novel Underworld, Don DeLillo raises the issue of environmental racism by examining the environmental dangers that American Indians lived through and still face today. Detwiler exposes the general American’s callousness, indifference, and ignorance of American Indians while the interspersed historical recollections of plutonium and uranium mining refer to overlooked horrors of the previous and ongoing injustice toward tribes. DeLillo not only informs the reader of environmental racism, but he forces his audience to reflect upon their own knowledge and responses to the outdated yet contemporary issue of environmental racism and its lasting effects.

[7] DeLillo represents the United States as a culture driven by its need to over-consume, discard, and disassociate itself from its trash. Although the characters view their waste as an inevitable, everyday part of life, they simultaneously find it revolting and try to distance themselves from the pungent odors and discomforting images of their garbage. As a result, the government dumps the trash in remote areas where only powerless people will experience the unpleasantness and possible dangers of these waste pockets. After admiring the construction site of a future landfill, Detwiler, a nonconformist waste theorist, exposes the average American’s ignorance and callousness of the waste dumping: “Detwiler sat in the middle of the rear seat, needling us about dumping our garbage on sacred Indian land” (288). Despite Detwiler’s inclusion in visiting the construction site of the future landfill, he remains literally and figuratively separate from the other waste managers in the car. Literally, his physical position in the “middle of the rear seat” allows him to see the oncoming traffic, but it prevents him from being able to steer the car. Figuratively, he “takes a back seat” to conventional waste managers and their practices. From this powerless position he tries to persuade the other men in the car to consider how their decisions for waste placement impact others. More specifically, he raises the issue of dumping “garbage on sacred Indian land,” but the other men in the car dismiss his qualms as an annoyance, as “needling.” He fails to penetrate their insensitivity to the American Indians’ cultural connection of their sacred land to their spirits, ancestors, and ceremonial practices.

[8] Not only is the notion of landfills disconcerting and the idea of the revolting filth in a holy place appalling, but placing a waste site on an American Indian reservation or boundary line is even more disturbing because native people deeply respect the environment, make a conscientious effort to minimize waste, and practice sustainability. To make matters worse, these indigenous people cannot escape the cycle of poverty resulting from their painful past of forcible removal and displacement. As a result, their financial situation leaves them vulnerable to accept waste from others for a small payment, but they also lack the means to relocate if the landfill greatly decreases their quality of life. American Indians’ small numbers, powerlessness, and monetary insecurity make them targets to dump waste on, but Detwiler shows that Americans’ prejudice and ignorance enable this to occur: “Bet you don’t know the name of Tonto’s horse. Come on, Sims. You know the white man’s horse. Why don’t you know the Indian’s horse?” (289).

[9] Since the waste mangers refuse to acknowledge how they take advantage of vulnerable and impoverished minorities, Detwiler shifts his persuasive focus to the American icon of the Lone Ranger. By referring to the American hero’s sidekick, “Tonto,” Detwiler invokes the inaccurate and offensive stereotype of native peoples. Tonto’s degrading portrayal of American Indians became common knowledge, causing this well-known character’s name to be used as an inflammatory racist remark. Detwiler further emphasizes the men’s careless and skewed view of American Indians when he asks them to name this marginalized character’s horse, but the men remain silent. Now that Detwiler grabbed the men’s attention, he continually tries to provoke them into feeling guilty for overlooking the American Indian’s importance by claiming “You know the white man’s horse.” He forces them to examine their own misconceptions and neglect of minorities through self-reflection. Detwiler asks them, “Why don’t you know the Indian’s horse?” -- reminding them of their inability to recall the details of the American Indian when they know those of the white man, the character who most closely resembles themselves. Therefore, Detwiler mentions sacred American Indian lands to make the waste managers reconsider where they dump their garbage.

[10] Detwiler tries to raise the ethical issue of exploiting minorities by depositing trash on their land, but he fails to draw sympathy from them. Refusing to drop the issue, Detwiler refers to the iconic racist character Tonto, which baffles the men and compels them to examine their attitudes towards minorities. And while DeLillo uses his characters to shed light on the environmental racism of dumping garbage on American Indian lands, he specifically employs Detwiler’s sarcasm to draw attention to previous instances of the government’s exploitation of indigenous peoples: “The more dangerous the waste, the more heroic it will become. Irradiated ground. The way the Indians venerate this terrain now, we’ll come to see it as sacred in the next century. Plutonium National Park. The last haunt of the white gods. Tourists wearing respirator masks and protective suits” (289). Like the beginning of his conversation, Detwiler plays off of American Indian stereotypes by claiming “the more dangerous the waste, the more heroic it will become,” as though suffering from the detrimental side effects of nuclear mining and waste leads to an honorable death. Detwiler subtly draws upon the notion of American Indians seeking out prideful yet inglorious and avoidable pains or deaths, which first appeared in westerns that started in the 1930s.

[11] Now seen as highly inaccurate and controversial, this popular genre of movies depicted American Indians as violent savages who unnecessarily sacrificed themselves in an effort to appear “heroic,” mirroring Detwiler’s insinuation that people will see the American Indians’ suffering from environmental contaminants as a foolish decision made by the tribes. In keeping with his focus on stereotypes, Detwiler refers to the indigenous’ reverence of the earth when he refers the way that “the Indians venerate this terrain,” simultaneously criticizing American’s inability to value the land without depleting it of resources and shaping it to fit their desires. But he saves the most offensive stereotype of American Indians and indigenous religious beliefs for last: “The last haunt of the white gods.” When the European explorers landed in what is now considered America, the indigenous people were startled yet respectful of the men’s differences. They did not revere them as gods, despite popular belief, but treated them as honorable guests who received only the best victuals and gifts. In return the Europeans stole their land, brutalized their peoples, raped the women, enslaved them, and “traded” possessions by forcibly taking the indigenous’ valuables and throwing beads at their feet in return. Once again Detwiler alludes to the ignorance and ethnocentrism of the mainstream white culture in the United States by referring to the erroneous history of the “savage” American Indians and the “god-like” white explorers.

[12] Detwiler does not merely use sarcasm to reveal the inaccuracy and pervasiveness of society’s stereotypes of American Indians. His sarcastic remarks also expose the injuries behind the United States “achievements,” while holding the men accountable for their actions. For example, Detwiler equates a plutonium mine to a national park, portraying how the perpetuation of environmental injustice gets disguised as progress and protection, while the men exemplify the ignorance that leads to such disastrous outcomes. By comparing the nuclear mine sites to a “national park,” a reserve of government-owned land preserved for human recreation and animal safety, Detwiler mocks the United States’ admiration of its nuclear harvesting. Mine sites do not protect or provide enjoyment for people, especially those living in the surrounding area. Instead, these plutonium mining sites expose workers and neighboring communities to radio-active waste that contaminates their ground water, pollutes their soil, infects their crops, and sickens their livestock, which in turn diminishes the length and quality of their lives.

[13] Through his previous comments pertaining to the environmental racism toward American Indians, it is apparent that Detwiler knows about the government’s hazardous actions even if its decisions do not directly impact him. Therefore, Detwiler ridiculously equates plutonium mining with a national park to emphasize the stark differences between these two entities -- these nuclear mining activities remain hidden from public knowledge, decrease the value of land, harm various forms of life, represent the destructive impact humans, and remain a current health issue, while national parks invite public observation, create revenue, protect wildlife, remain materially unaltered by humans, and portray the beauty of the past. He employs this sarcasm to make the men targets of his contempt for environmentally racist practices and society’s failure to rectify these injustices through proper closing, disposal, and cleanup methods. And without proper research, knowledge, and motivation, these injustices will continue to exist and harm others -- these injustices will continue to make these living conditions toxic until the only safe way to walk through the territory includes “wearing respirator masks and protective suits” to arm themselves against their own waste.

[14] While Detwiler forces the waste managers to reflect upon the practices of their companies and how these actions adversely impact American Indians, DeLillo uses the men’s ignorance to emphasize society’s failure to ameliorate or even recognize the problems. If waste managers, men who literally work in the garbage business and maintain a position of power in the profession of waste, do not know or overlook the harmful consequences of their own and their businesses’ decisions, the typical American, who remains distanced from their trash and unclear of waste management practices, will experience almost a complete obliviousness to this environmental racism. Therefore, DeLillo’s portrayal of the calloused, uninformed waste managers shows the pervasive ignorance and unconcerned attitude of Americans’ and their trash. And, in depicting these average, imperfect men as unaware, he allows his readers to find relief in identifying with them, because neither the characters nor his readers realize the devastating implications of their actions, their livelihoods. After luring the readers into the false comfort by removing any sense of guilt for unintentionally and unknowingly injuring others, DeLillo criticizes them just as Detwiler reprimands the men. In short, DeLillo shows that ignorance not only fails to exonerate society from its deleterious actions, but reveals the deep seated indifference and racism still in existence.

Environmental Exposé

[15] Like DeLillo, Ruth Ozeki’s All Over Creation examines how the prevailing misconceptions of indigenous peoples lead to the perpetuation of environmental racism. But while DeLillo draws his reader’s attention to the continuation and effects of dumping waste on tribal territory, as well as the history of plutonium and uranium mining on indigenous lands, Ozeki focuses on the way corporations exploit American Indians both for their resources and their organic, stereotyped image. For instance, the yearly Thanksgiving Day play portrays the false, offensive textbook depiction of the interaction between American Indians and white settlers. After the play, Yumi’s teacher Mr. Elliot Rhodes blatantly criticizes culture’s ignorance of American Indians by citing the fallacies in the school’s portrayal of American Indians even though students of the Shoshone and Bannock tribes attend the school. When Elliot returns to the town after a long absence, he no longer speaks up against the exploitation of American Indians, but he works for a company that pollutes tribal lands and focuses on ways to use mainstream culture’s stereotypes of indigenous peoples for marketing. Ozeki reveals the continuation of environmental racism through historical inaccuracies that pervade the classrooms and she explores the modern-day exploitation of indigenous peoples for monetary profit.

[16] The most poignant memory of Cass’s childhood revolves around the traditional Thanksgiving play, which fosters a prejudiced, stereotyped view of American Indians, a view that perpetuates environmental racism. Cass’s remembrance of the play not only exhibits the town’s bigotry toward minorities by casting parts based upon ethnic features, but its horrendous misrepresentation of history allows society to ignore the environmental racism of the past: “Yummy was always the Indian princess” (7). Although the Fuller’s named their daughter Yumi (pronounced you-me), everyone in her school distorts her name into “Yummy.” Even her best friend Cass, who grew up next door and heard her friend’s parents say Yumi, transforms a beautiful Japanese name meaning “reason” or “beautiful” into a child-like, yet sexualized English word. By Americanizing and mangling her friend’s name, Cass exposes the racism of mainstream culture, while revealing her own subconscious discrimination of cultural differences.

[17] The town reinforces its bigotry through its casting of Yumi as the “Indian princess” in the Thanksgiving play. Because of her darker skin and Japanese features, the teachers give Yumi what they perceive to be “an ethnic part,” an American Indian. Not only does this typecasting portray the indifference and ignorance of the teacher’s inability to distinguish among ethnicities, but by choosing Yumi for the main American Indian role, Cass believes that the teachers further marginalize the American Indian students. She acknowledges the school’s negligence of its indigenous students by commenting: “It wasn’t like they didn’t have real Indians in school. They did” (7). From her claim, she reveals her main fault with the play -- that indigenous students were not selected to play the American Indian roles. While she wants to empower the native students through the roles that more accurately relate to them, she fails to recognize the differences between tribes. Shoshone tribes reside in the south and west, far from the territory where settlers first inhabited, far from the location where any sort of feast like Thanksgiving could have possibly taken place. So by privileging the Shoshone students for the indigenous roles, Cass exhibits a similar form of ignorance and prejudice of minorities that her teachers displayed through their casting of Yumi as the “Indian princess.” Cass lumps all American Indian tribes together, ignoring the rich cultural diversity and lifestyles that set each group apart from one another.

[18] Cass recites Yumi’s lines, which reflect the culturally accepted yet inaccurate and offensive depiction of the relationship between American Indians and white settlers. This biased depiction allows mainstream culture to ignore and continue its unjust environmental practices: “‘Noble Pilgrims,’ Princess Yummy used to say, ‘my people and I welcome you to our land. We know that your journey has been a hard one, and we will help you. Pray, take our seeds and plant them’” (7). First, indigenous people did not speak English or even the same language as the white settlers, so they would not be able to articulate a formal greeting or invitation that the settlers would comprehend. Second, the word “pilgrim” refers to anyone embarking on a religious journey and did not apply to the white settlers because most of them came to America in hopes of land and wealth. Third, a young American Indian girl would not address white settlers. Instead, her father would have her heavily guarded and protected from the violent, deceitful settlers. Fourth, American Indians did not welcome white settlers nor did they trust them. While historians have documented some peaceable feasts, interactions often began with an ambush or lead to theft, fighting, imprisonment, or rape. Fifth, the native peoples did not revere the settlers, as the title “noble” or the gift of “seeds” signify. Instead, indigenous peoples acted cautiously around the setters, never fully trusting them because news of the white peoples’ mistreatment of American Indians circulated among the tribes.

[19] Thus, although Yumi’s lines depict indigenous peoples as empowered and amiable peoples who aid the white settlers, they gloss over the history of violence, manipulation, and ecological injustice that American Indians suffered at the hands of white settlers. The misrepresentation of history and native peoples in the play allows mainstream culture to ignore the horrors of its country’s foundation and view the past with a sense of pride, devoid of responsibility for reparations or even acknowledgement of the ongoing environmental exploitation and racism against these peoples.

[20] Although the school holds the play, the teacher Mr. Elliot Rhodes disagrees with its degrading, fairy-tale representation of American Indians and white settlers because the play dis-services those who experienced the anguish and their families who still suffer from the devastation of racism, racism that has recently been manifested in environmental exploitation. In his rant, he acknowledges society’s ignorance of American Indians’ past and explains how society benefits from the continuation of such historical fabrications: “It’s revisionist bullshit! It was genocide -- we stole their land, and then we exterminated them. And now we call it Thanksgiving?” (22). His crude language, emphasized words, and exclamatory tone reveal how passionately Elliot feels about society’s attempts to hide the unsettling injustice of the past and re-create a more pleasant and comforting history. And, by using “bullshit” to refer to the play, and, on a larger scale, to mainstream culture’s acceptance of “the first Thanksgiving” as a joyous feast among American Indians and white settlers, Elliot acknowledges society’s misrepresentation of history through its nonsense and lies. He exposes several forms of injustice suffered by native peoples through strong language. “Genocide” and “extermination” refer to the violence and systematic murder of indigenous peoples. “Stole” indicates that American Indians did not foolishly give or squander land for trinkets, but white men deceived and took advantage of them. And in his outrage, Elliot poses a rhetorical question, daring anyone to disagree with him. His frustration surmounts when he asks Yumi: “Don’t you know anything about the Shoshone and the Bannock who’ve lived on this land for thousands of years, before there even was an Idaho? (22)”

[21] Despite the historical glossing of Thanksgiving and indigenous peoples, Elliot cannot fathom how people who live near reservations, interact among natives peoples, and contaminate tribal land through hazardous farming practices, do not acknowledge the past and current marginalization of American Indians. But, in his effort to redeem the integrity of indigenous peoples by exposing the actual interactions between tribes and whites, he unleashes his angst on a fourteen-year-old girl who has been continually fed misinformation by adults not much different than him. Although Elliot recognizes society’s ignorance and indifference, he fails to take pre-emptive measures to prevent the misrepresentation of native peoples or to confront those who dispel the propaganda to others. Instead, Elliot shrinks from confrontation and empowers himself by degrading and belittling a powerless girl, mirroring the way in which society benefits by repressing indigenous peoples.

[22] Despite Elliot’s realization and horror of society’s continual exploitation of American Indians, as shown through the education system, he takes a job with an environmentally racist company that remains callous to the contamination of indigenous water and pollution of tribal land. When the native peoples complain, Elliot focuses on ways to manipulate these vulnerable minorities and use the misconceptions of American Indians to benefit the company:

Potato farmers were being sued by a local Indian tribe demanding compensation for groundwater contamination from agricultural runoff. Shoshone, he remembered. . . He’d been pressing Cynaco to support InterTribal Agricultural Councils. Maybe he could even get a Shoshone spokesperson to endorse the NuLife -- fewer pesticides mean clean water for our people, that sort of thing. Wisdom. Heritage. Indians always made for positive imaging. (188)

Elliot’s push for his company Cynaco to aid the farming practices of American Indians merely conceals his selfish motives. He has no interest in helping the tribes out of altruism, because instead of diverting the runoff, cleaning up the water, or compensating the tribe, Elliot ignores reparations and focuses on how he can benefit from these impoverished and vulnerable people. His selfishness surfaces in his first thought after hearing about a recent incident in which the pesticides from the potato farmers’ crops contaminated the indigenous peoples’ ground water: “Maybe he could even get a Shoshone spokesperson to endorse the NuLife.” Since most American Indians live on desolate land under the poverty line, they become perfect targets for corporation manipulation, and in this case, their past negative experiences with pesticides will further motivate them to sell out their image to Cynaco.

[23] The more Elliot thinks through his proposition, the clearer his racism becomes. The dash midsentence denotes a break and shift, signaling what an American Indian might say in reference to the NuLife. In his slogan he uses society’s stereotypes of American Indians to his advantage, emphasizing the importance of community and the environment, two ideas that people ascribe to native peoples. And by employing offensive, grammatically incorrect language, Elliot plays off of mainstream culture’s prejudiced view of indigenous people as uneducated. He does not care if he accurately portrays the Shoshone or if the company decides to capitalize on a different stereotype, implied by his dismissal of the idea as “that sort of thing.” Reverberating his callousness and disrespect of indigenous peoples, Elliot mentions “wisdom” and “heritage” as two other advertising techniques of tribal peoples. By commercializing two core elements of indigenous peoples, Elliot reaches the pinnacle of his bigotry by recognizing their significance as a complete idea and pausing momentarily between each concept, signified by the punctuation of his thoughts, yet he still values American Indians solely for their “positive image,” ways that Cynaco finds them marketable for the product and profitable for the company. Unfortunately, the Shoshone suffer from environmental racism as main stream culture’s practices pollute their land and water while companies target them for exploitation.

[24] In All Over Creation, Ozeki depicts mainstream culture’s inaccurate and prejudiced perception of American Indians and examines how corporations use these misconceptions to exploit indigenous peoples. The typecasting of the annual Thanksgiving play reveals the town’s racist view of minorities. Even though Cass believes the town further marginalized the Shoshone students by avoiding them for the roles of the American Indians, her thoughts on the issue expose her ignorance and subconscious racism. Similarly, Mr. Elliot Rhodes tries to rectify the misrepresentation of native peoples by explaining the inaccuracies. But by directing his accusatory language toward a young girl, he alleviates his own conscience at the sake of demeaning her, mirroring the way in which mainstream culture suppresses and manipulates native peoples for its own gain. His exploitation escalates as he grows older and joins an environmentally racist company at which he focuses on ways that he can use society’s stereotypical views of American Indians to benefit his company. Ozeki not only explores the pervasive racism of the education system and environmental degradation of tribal land and water, but she examines how corporations take advantage of society’s misconceptions to exploit the image of indigenous peoples.

Eskimo Kisses

[25] Similar to DeLillo and Ozeki, T. Coraghessan Boyle raises the issue of environmental racism in A Friend of the Earth, but he does so by examining a radical environmentalist’s inaccurate, prejudiced thoughts of indigenous peoples. Tierwater uses a demeaning remark about the Mohawk tribe to reveal his cynicism and knowledge of society’s negative impact on the earth, yet he admires the Inuit’s lifestyle because he believes they contrast the environmentally destructive practices of his consumer-driven culture by living in harmony with the earth. Despite his seemingly contradictory view of indigenous peoples as both worthy of contempt and praise, Tierwater’s romanticism of the Inuit people is offensive -- he simplifies their cultural practices, depicts them as uncivilized, and overlooks the ecological exploitation they suffered. Boyle not only exposes our culture’s ignorance of its environmental degradation and racism, but he questions the thought processes and goals of radical environmental activists. Although Boyle criticizes the extreme activist Tierwater for his misunderstanding and idealization of the Inuit, Boyle also fanaticizes American Indians in order to persuade his readers against environmental radicalism. In short, Boyle exploits indigenous peoples through mainstream culture’s stereotyped view of American Indians and uses the very misconceptions that DeLillo, Ozeki, and even Boyle himself deem dangerous and unjust in their texts.

[26] Boyle explores mainstream culture’s pervasive delusions and egregious treatment of American Indians through Tierwater. This environmental radical criticizes society’s desire to cling to its aesthetic and consumer driven culture despite the eminent environmental dangers of these practices -- but he perpetuates another social issue while drawing attention to the suffering and helplessness of the environmentally conscious people who find themselves trapped in a consumerist culture. His stereotype of an American Indian tribe exposes mainstream culture’s ignorance and indifference of indigenous peoples, mirroring society’s lack of knowledge and disinterest in environmentally sustainable practices and ultimately causing Tierwater to fall prey to the very issues he tries to raise: society’s negligence and unconcern. Specifically, Tierwater notices that even though society faces the destruction of its environmentally harmful actions on a regular basis -- the extinction of most animals, the toxic air, and the severe weather conditions -- people continue to maintain their cultural “traditions” of consumerism, wastefulness, and impracticality. For instance, despite his friend’s obliviousness and/or denial of the ecological damage in such practices as his frivolous Christmas decorating, Tierwater cannot see the “silver-foil angel” decorations without weeping into his “gauze mask,” because it reminds him of his childhood, a time before he realized what people were doing to the Earth, before the world rapidly collapsed (183). But the angels simultaneously represent consumerism, profligacy, man’s environmental destruction, and Tierwater’s contribution to the devastation. Fashioned out of thin strips of metal, the “silver-foil” produces a glistening effect as the angels catch and redirect the light. And, since their surfaces are reflective, when Tierwater looks at them, he would be able to see his own image projected upon their bodies, he would be forced to reflect upon his own environmental footprint.

[27] Although he did not always understand the ecological implications of his actions or try to live in a sustainable manner, at the time that he sees the “silver-foil angels” Tierwater cannot appreciate the beauty or sentiment behind the Christmas decorations, because he has become “utterly practical and unsentimental, as stripped of illusion as any captive of the Mohawk” (183). Tierwater uses the violent, savage stereotype of the Mohawk to describe the suffering that accompanies the realization of society’s environmental destruction and the notion of “captive” to illustrate the helplessness felt by the environmentally conscientious people who cannot escape living in the consumer culture. Through this offensive, inaccurate depiction of the Mohawk, Tierwater acknowledges society’s responsibility for the ecological degradation and criticizes society’s environmental ignorance, carelessness, and apathy while he watches his friend decorate for Christmas.

[28] Tierwater ridicules society for not knowing about or caring for the environment, and, by looking down on them, he simultaneously elevates himself through his environmental knowledge. But, in his efforts to seek environmental justice and empower himself, he exposes his own misconceptions of American Indians. When asked about the subject of his novel, Tierwater chooses a topic that he thinks his neighbor, an average American, would know nothing about. His neighbor not only surprises him with his familiarity with the Inuit, but the interaction reveals Tierwater’s ignorance of the American Indians that he refers to as Eskimos: “I mean it’s your lucky day, Tom. You’re staring at a man who spent two years in Tingmiarmiut among the Inuit -- back in the days when I was working for British Petroleum, that is” (212). Despite Tierwater’s effort to end the conversation by choosing a subject that his neighbor would find unfamiliar, his neighbor responds “it’s your lucky day,” and proceeds to explain his involvement, while minimal, with this culture. The neighbor’s remark, “it’s your lucky day,” also acknowledges the unlikelihood that they would both have an investment with the Inuit. Most people have limited knowledge of indigenous peoples because the literary canon fails to include their writings and textbooks reduce their histories, celebrations, and sufferings to a few sentences, while the news rarely, if ever reports on current indigenous events. When American Indians are recognized or mentioned, society often misrepresents them out of self-interest -- in order to portray its history’s colonization positively -- or out of ignorance -- because society does not understand the cultural practices and modern issues of these peoples.

[29] Unlike the indifferent and uninformed general society, including Tierwater, the neighbor spent an extended period of time, “two years,” “among the Inuit.” Although he was surrounded by the Inuit during this time, he lived in Tingmiarmiut for work purposes. His interaction with these people was further limited by the company he worked for, “British Petroleum,” because they mined petroleum from the area. Mining often leads to serious health and environmental issues, including loss of biodiversity, contamination of water, erosion, and even sinkholes, but the minority status and financial vulnerability of indigenous peoples often make them targets for such environmental exploitation. As a result, British Petroleum mined the Inuit’s land and surrounding area. But, even though Tierwater’s neighbor was involved with the environmental racism of mining tribal lands, he shows a certain level of respect for the people by referring to the indigenous group by the accepted name of “Inuit.” Since he worked for a company that degraded indigenous land, the BP employee’s respect for the Inuit remains problematic, but he still refers to Inuit appropriately while Tierwater unintentionally demeans the indigenous people through the derogatory slur of “Eskimo.”

[30] Ironically, Tierwater neglects the Inuit culture and their environmental exploitation, which mirrors his own criticism of society for its unawareness and indifference of its ecologically destructive practices. Like mainstream culture, Tierwater remains ignorant of the lifestyles and cultures of American Indians, specifically the Inuit, because they not only live in the United States but also endure harsher weather conditions than most Americans. While this distanced view of the Inuit explains why Americans know so little about this indigenous culture, it does not exonerate them of responsibility for their misconceptions. Similarly, Tierwater’s displaced interest, lack of knowledge, and misunderstanding of the Inuit show that he views indigenous people as negligible.

[31] Contrasting his previous references of indigenous peoples as savage, marginalized, and unimportant, Tierwater venerates the Inuit’s lifestyle when faced with the realization of jail time. Although Tierwater’s thoughts reveal his desire to live among this tribe where people live in accordance with nature, he romanticizes and ultimately belittles this complex culture by depicting the Inuit as lawless, uncouth, and uncivilized:

He wanted to tell her about the Eskimos, how they had no jails or laws and lived within the bounds of nature -- they didn’t even cook their meat, because they had no wood or coal or oil, which is why they’d been called Eskimos in the first place: Eaters of Raw Flesh. (216).

Even though Tierwater previously demonstrated the extent of his knowledge about American Indians, beginning and ending with the narrow, Hollywood stereotypes, “he wanted to tell her about the Eskimos.” “Wanted” signifies his literal lack of ability in verbalizing his desires and his figurative deficiency in his awareness of the Inuit’s modern lifestyle and environmental issues. But, by explaining the Inuit to Andrea, Tierwater elevates himself from his vulnerable position because he functions as a sage. Unfortunately, the “facts” he contemplates sharing remain inaccurate and offensive.

[32] First, he refers to the Inuit in the past tense, as though they no longer exist. Second, he believes that the Inuit “had no jails or laws,” depicting the culture as uncivilized and unjust, as though the tribe does not have rules or methods of enforcement. In reality, American Indians establish counsels which create and enforce the laws, and all tribes, whether living on a boundary line or on a reservation, must follow seven of the United States’ main laws, most of which involve severe charges such as murder. This misconception of lawlessness also shows that he views the Inuit as completely distinct from the United States, its own laws, and its enforcement policy. He reiterates this view of the Inuit as distant and other through the “us-them” ideology present in his language; he continually refers to the Inuit as “they,” excluding the group from his perception of “Americans” even though communities of Inuit reside within the States, in Alaska. Third, Tierwater thinks that the Inuit live in accordance with the environment because the people abstain from ecologically harmful practices, such as burning resources out of convenience and desire because the indigenous people “had no wood or coal or oil.” In reality, the Inuit’s land harbors a rich supply of resources, specifically oil. Governments and companies desperately wanted the oil and decided to exploit the indigenous people by mining the tribal land even though the oil’s extraction could result in significant health and environmental hazards. Four, Tierwater perpetually calls the Inuit Eskimos. He admits that he knows “Eskimo” means “Eaters of Raw Flesh,” but he overlooks the crude, uncivilized, and even racist connotation associated with this definition, with this word.

[33] In A Friend of the Earth, Boyle uses the environmental radical Tierwater to examine the inaccurate, prejudiced depiction of indigenous peoples and to expose society’s pervasive yet disregarded environmental racism. Tierwater makes an offensive reference to a Mohawk captive in an attempt to explain his suffering and helplessness after realizing the extent to which his consumerist society negatively impacts the environment. He reverberates his bias and misconception of indigenous peoples when he fabricates the subject of his imaginary novel; he tells his neighbor that he decided to write about “Eskimos,” revealing his cultural ignorance by using this pejorative term, while his neighbor refers to the people by the accepted name of Inuit. Despite his demeaning comments, when Tierwater realizes that he must serve jail time, he venerates the Inuit and expresses interest in living with these indigenous people or at least in adopting a similar lifestyle to the Inuit. He finds the Inuit way of life appealing because he views it as simplistic and environmentally safe, but his romanticism dis-services the indigenous peoples of the Artic and Sub-Artic -- he refuses to acknowledge the disintegration of their oral tradition, the increasing poverty, the low graduation rates, the struggle to adapt to industrialization, and the environmental exploitation of mining.

[34] Through Tierwater’s narrow-mindedness, Boyle not only raises the issue and exposes the ignorance of environmental racism, but he forces the reader to question the goals and thought processes of radical environmentalists. Are they appropriately informed? Are their ideals realistic? Do their actions contribute to environmental sustainability or merely displace the negative environmental impact from one issue to another? Which environmental issues take precedence over others? Who should carry the burden of our environmentally damaging choices and actions? Although Boyle avoids directly posing these questions, his novel focuses on radicals’ ignorance and ecologically detrimental actions. Therefore, contrary to DeLillo and Ozeki who shed light on the perpetuation of environmental racism in an effort to motivate change and end this injustice, Boyle merely uses the issue of environmental racism as a stepping stone in revealing another problem -- the role, reliability, justification, and success of radical environmentalists’ actions. His criticism of Tierwater’s ignorance and misuse of indigenous peoples for his own gain is hypocritical because Boyle exploits the stereotypes, romanticism, and vulnerability of American Indians in A Friend of the Earth to further his own agenda, to make his reader question the thoughts and actions of environmental extremists.

Conclusion

[35] I glance down. Rubble now resides at my feet, signaling the beginning of the demolition. A crowd gathers in horror, gaping at the foundation’s exposure. The rebar depicts Columbus, a man celebrated with his own national holiday, hacking off the hands of American Indian men who fail to bring him yellow metal. Further along on the same rod, tears run down an indigenous woman’s face as our national hero shreds her clothes so he can humiliate and rape her. Further along the steel, an unrecognizable Thanksgiving depicts native men squinting with their hands clutching their weapons as they confront the bullets of the white settlers. Scattered along the bars, rest shards of reinforced concrete, each projecting a different picture of injustice: white men ripping treaties, a Cherokee woman with a cradleboard strapped to her back collapsing in the snow, and middle-class men sneaking onto tribal lands at night, their truck bed weighed down with garbage bags. And among the images of American Indian miners, toxic waste depositories on indigenous holy land, and British Petroleum rigs contaminating tribal water sources, lay splintered pieces of reflective glass. As the sunlight hits its surface, all people in the crowd glimpse themselves standing amidst the injustice. Some people -- most people -- walk away in disgust, fear, or confusion, but a few bystanders grab a pair of gloves, ready to begin the process of acknowledging, cleaning, and rebuilding. One person at a time.