Community colleges offer clean energy training as climate-related jobs expand across America

Plant, 66 — an enrolled member of the Yaqui of Southern California tribe, and of undocumented Choctaw and Cherokee ancestry — has started various organizations over the years, including Idle No More SF Bay, which she co-founded with a group of Indigenous grandmothers in 2013, first in solidarity with a group formed by First Nations women in Canada to defend treaty rights and to protect the environment from exploitation. 

In 2016, Plant gathered with others in front of Wells Fargo Corporate offices in San Francisco, blocking the road in protest of the Dakota Access Pipeline, when she realized the advantages she had as an older woman in the fight. 

As a police liaison — or a person who aims to defuse tension with law enforcement — she went to speak to an officer who was trying to interrupt the action. When she saw him maneuvering his car over a sidewalk, she stood in front of it, her gray hair flowing. “I opened my arms really wide and was like, are you going to run over a grandmother?”

A new idea was born: The Society of Fearless Grandmothers. Once an in-person training — it now mostly exists online as a Facebook page — it helped teach other grandmothers how to protect the youth at protests. 

For Plant, the role of grandmothers in the fight to protect the planet is about a simple Indigenous principle: ensuring the future for the next seven generations. 

“What we’re seeing is a shift starting with Indigenous women, that is lifting up the good things that mothers have to share, the good things that women that love children can share, that will help bring back balance in the world,” Plant said.  

The coordination between the two groups is one instance of intersectional work happening in the climate activism space. Though younger climate activists tend to be part of a more diverse movement, Fisher notes the movement is still predominantly White. 

“People of color are mobilizing, but in many cases, they’re not mobilizing and engaging in activism that is specifically focused on climate,” Fisher said. “They may be engaging in work that is more climate justice, frontline community focused or against systemic racism, but it’s framed really differently than in most of the groups that are doing this kind of climate work … so there’s still a very big gulf there that needs to be crossed.”  

Some of the older generation of activists see working on issues surrounding the climate as a way to try and correct some of their generation’s historical wrongs. 

Kathleen Sullivan, an organizer with Third Act — a national organization started by environmentalist Bill McKibben — said that’s part of what has motivated her to become a climate activist in her later years. 

“I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t because I’ve been gifted with so much in life, and those gifts have come at a huge price,” she said, reflecting on how resource extraction, slavery, genocide, have built this country and led to the climate crisis. “And, when you wake up to that, first you weep and then you say, ‘Oh my God, there’s a whole other way to live a life,  another way to understand how to be on this planet.'” 

Sullivan is one of approximately 70,000 people over the age of 60 who’ve joined Third Act, a group specifically formed to engage people 60 and older to mobilize for climate action across the country. 

“This is an act of moral responsibility. It’s an act of care. And It’s an act of reciprocity to the way in which we are cared for by the planet,” Sullivan said. “It’s an act of interconnection to your peers, because there can be great joy and great sense of solidarity with other people around this.”

This story was produced by The 19th, an independent, nonprofit newsroom reporting on gender, politics, and policy, and reviewed and distributed by Stacker Media.