By Darius Spearman (africanelements)

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A new report confirms what many have known for decades. Texas’s booming chemical industry disproportionately burdens Black and Brown neighborhoods with pollution (newsone.com). The Bullard Center for Environmental and Climate Justice recently examined nearly one hundred new oil and gas projects across Texas. Researchers found a staggering pattern. Approximately ninety percent of these industrial sites are located in counties with higher shares of people of color and impoverished families than the state average (texasobserver.org).

This is not a new story. Instead, it is the latest chapter in a long history of environmental injustice. For generations, industry has used low-income Black and Brown “fenceline” communities as dumping grounds. These are residential areas that sit directly beside refineries and chemical plants (texasobserver.org). Meanwhile, wealthier and whiter areas often reap the economic benefits, like jobs and profit, without facing the toxic air and water (newsone.com). This history behind the headlines reveals a system where some communities are consistently sacrificed for industrial growth.

The fight for environmental justice grew directly from the Civil Rights Movement. It gained national attention in the late 1970s and early 1980s (texasobserver.org). Many point to the 1982 protests in Warren County, North Carolina, as the birth of the modern movement. There, a predominantly Black community rose up against a plan to dump soil contaminated with toxic Polychlorinated Biphenyls (PCBs) in their neighborhood (waterkeeperscarolina.org). PCBs are dangerous, man-made chemicals banned in 1979 because they persist in the environment and are linked to cancer and other serious health problems (wikipedia.org).

However, foundational battles were also fought in Texas. In 1979, residents of Northwood Manor, a Black middle-class neighborhood in Houston, challenged a proposed garbage dump (texasobserver.org). Dr. Robert Bullard, now known as the "father of environmental justice," gathered data for their case. His research revealed that all five of Houston’s city-owned landfills and six of its eight incinerators were located in Black neighborhoods. This work exposed a clear pattern of what activist Benjamin Chavis would later call "environmental racism": racial discrimination in environmental policymaking (texasobserver.org). Furthermore, the story of Carver Terrace in Texarkana, a Black neighborhood built on contaminated land, shows the lasting harm. Residents were eventually displaced, but they suffered the loss of their community, leading to chronic stress, social isolation, and financial instability ((texasobserver.org), (nomadit.co.uk)).

Data from Dr. Robert Bullard's 1970s research shows the vast majority of Houston's city-owned waste facilities were sited in Black communities (texasobserver.org).

The story of Texas industry begins with oil. The gusher at Spindletop in 1901 was a world-changing event. It produced an incredible 100,000 barrels of oil per day, kicking off an immense boom that transformed the state’s economy ((texasobserver.org), (tshaonline.org)). This discovery laid the foundation for a massive petroleum and chemical industry along the Gulf Coast and in regions like the Permian Basin, one of the most prolific oil and gas fields in the world ((texasobserver.org), (talonlpe.com)). World War II further accelerated this growth, creating high demand for synthetic rubber and chemicals (texasobserver.org).

This industrial expansion happened alongside discriminatory housing policies. In cities like Houston, a lack of zoning regulations meant industries could be built almost anywhere (hereinhouston.org). This was combined with the practice of redlining. From the 1930s on, banks drew red lines on maps around Black and minority neighborhoods, deeming them too "high-risk" for mortgages and other investments (unc.edu). This policy trapped Black families in specific areas, starved their communities of wealth, and lowered property values. Consequently, these devalued areas became cheap and easy targets for industrial developers, who faced less political resistance (climatecentral.org). This created the "fenceline communities" we see today, where homes and schools exist in the shadow of refineries (texasobserver.org).

Decades later, the pattern continues. The Bullard Center’s "Green Light to Pollute in Texas" report shows that today’s chemical boom follows the same discriminatory blueprint (texasobserver.org). Nearly half of the proposed industrial projects are in areas already experiencing pollution exposure above the 90th percentile, according to the EPA's Toxics Release Inventory (TRI) (texasobserver.org). Being above the 90th percentile means a community faces more reported toxic chemical releases than 90 percent of other communities nationwide, putting them at a much higher risk for health problems (nationalgeographic.com).

This modern expansion is largely fueled by the fracking boom (texasobserver.org). Fracking, or hydraulic fracturing, is a drilling method that has unlocked vast amounts of natural gas from shale rock (wpi.edu). This has created a cheap and abundant supply of ethane, a key ingredient for making plastics (climate-xchange.org). Petrochemical companies have seized this opportunity, building massive facilities to turn this gas into materials for the plastics industry, which sold $61.5 billion in materials from Texas last year alone (texasobserver.org). Unfortunately, this growth has come at the expense of communities already bearing the heaviest pollution burden.

New industrial sites overwhelmingly target counties with more vulnerable populations, continuing a historical pattern of environmental injustice (texasobserver.org).

Living on the fenceline carries a profound human cost. Residents suffer from constant air, water, and noise pollution (texasobserver.org). The petrochemical industry releases numerous carcinogens, including benzene, 1,3-butadiene, and ethylene oxide (amnesty.org). Benzene is a building block for plastics like polystyrene, while 1,3-butadiene is used to make synthetic rubber for tires (learngala.com). These chemicals are linked to increased rates of cancer, respiratory illnesses, and reproductive complications (texasobserver.org). For instance, a 2019 state analysis found "statistically significantly greater than expected" rates of lung, esophagus, and larynx cancers in several Houston-area neighborhoods (texasobserver.org).

These exposures create shocking health disparities. The cancer risk in Houston's Manchester neighborhood is 22% higher than the city's average (amnesty.org). This statistic represents the cumulative, additional risk of developing cancers like leukemia or lymphoma over a lifetime from breathing a toxic mix of airborne chemicals (usccr.gov). The cumulative toll of this pollution is so severe that in some affected neighborhoods, the average life expectancy is up to 20 years lower than in majority-white communities just a few miles away (texasobserver.org). The ongoing pollution results in a diminished quality of life for residents.

State regulators are often failing to protect these communities. The Texas Commission on Environmental Quality (TCEQ) is the agency mandated to protect the state’s air, water, and land (ejstatebystate.org). Its three commissioners are appointed by the governor, not elected, meaning its direction can be heavily influenced by political priorities (ejstatebystate.org). Reports from organizations like Amnesty International have detailed "devastating harms" to communities along the Houston Ship Channel, pointing to inadequate enforcement by the TCEQ ((texasobserver.org), (amnesty.org)). Major companies have racked up hundreds of air pollution violations over the years with little consequence (texasobserver.org).

A key problem is a legal loophole for "unplanned and unavoidable" air pollution (utexas.edu). This "affirmative defense" provision allows companies to exceed their legal pollution limits during equipment malfunctions or shutdowns and avoid penalties by claiming the event was beyond their control (utexas.edu). Critics argue this loophole incentivizes companies to underinvest in maintenance, as they can often avoid fines for what are predictable emissions (utexas.edu). This failure is compounded by the powerful influence of industrial lobbyists, who advocate for weaker rules and use campaign contributions and a "revolving door" of personnel to shape agency policy (truthout.org). As a result, affected communities face significant barriers to justice, including a lack of access to information and the financial resources to challenge polluters (amnesty.org).

This regulatory mechanism allows polluters to avoid accountability for excess emissions, weakening environmental protections (utexas.edu).

Addressing this deep-seated problem requires more than just better regulations. It demands transformative climate justice frameworks that tackle the root causes of inequality (utexas.edu). These approaches aim to dismantle the systems that allow certain communities to be treated as disposable. They prioritize the leadership of frontline communities in developing solutions that are fair and effective (utexas.edu).

Concrete actions could make a real difference in Texas. Lawmakers could establish mandatory buffer zones to physically separate industrial plants from homes and schools (utexas.edu). The TCEQ could be required to conduct cumulative impact assessments, which would evaluate the total pollution burden on a community before approving any new permits (utexas.edu). Another powerful tool is requiring community benefit agreements, legally binding contracts that ensure residents share in the economic benefits and have a say in a project's operations (utexas.edu). Finally, the fight for environmental justice is a marathon relay, passed from one generation of advocates to the next, all striving for the basic right to a clean and healthy environment for everyone (texasobserver.org).

Darius Spearman is a professor of Black Studies at San Diego City College, where he has been teaching for over 20 years. He is the founder of African Elements, a media platform dedicated to providing educational resources on the history and culture of the African diaspora. Through his work, Spearman aims to empower and educate by bringing historical context to contemporary issues affecting the Black community.