Steel Magnolia
By Sally Bethea, Upper Chattahoochee Riverkeeper

This time, instead of a grey beard Waterkeeper, you’ve got a Southern Belle to tell her story, a mother of two boys — who will always be my boys no matter how old they are — a Steel Magnolia of sorts. This is about Girl Power, Woman Power. We may be Waterkeepers in a slightly different way, especially down South, but we can kick ass just as well as the boys can… maybe better.

I’ve been engaged in this environmental work and the politics that surround it for 30 years. I went to my first Sierra Club meeting in Atlanta in 1976. I’ll admit, I was mostly looking for dates, but I became literally hooked for life. Maybe I’d always been looking for a cause; when I was in college at Chapel Hill in the early 70s, it was social issues; it was poverty, the war in Vietnam and so many other things. But I found my voice in the environmental movement and specifically with Waterkeeper.

In 1991, I heard Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. speak and for the first time I heard about Hudson Riverkeeper and its victories. I was riveted; I was energized. The concept was so clear and compelling — and, most importantly, effective! I tried to write down every word that Bobby said. Lacking paper, I used check stubs. I used napkins. I used my own hands to write down the amazing story of Storm King and the Hudson. Actually filing a lawsuit to stop pollution! This was not the way we did things in Georgia. Suing polluters was not a “nice” thing to do. We might stab you in the back when you weren’t looking, but we certainly wouldn’t do something as open as file a lawsuit and say bad things about someone in the newspaper.

Fast forward two years; I was still working for a mainstream environmental organization, very frustrated and plotting my next move. I couldn’t stand the thought of continuing in the mainstream environmentalist world of balance, consensus and win-win agreements — which were never real wins for the environment.

But at that time Ted Turner’s daughter and her husband decided to start a Riverkeeper program on the Upper Chattahoochee River and I was in the right place at the right time. Thankfully, Laura and Rutherford Seydel are as involved with our work today as they were 12 years ago. We have grown to a dozen staff, a million dollar budget and most importantly, real wins for the river.

The Chattahoochee’s problems are those of every river that flows through a major, growing metropolitan area. Untreated sewage, too much development, roads and runoff, pesticides, mercury from coal-fired power plants, piping, filling and damming streams and wetlands — your general run-of-the-mill stuff that flows from greed and corruption.

Upper Chattahoochee Riverkeeper is still the only nonprofit environmental organization whose sole mission is to clean up, protect and restore this waterway that provides 3.5 million people with drinking water.

In March 1994, we opened an office, supported by a start-up grant from the Turner Foundation, and in 1995 I went to my first Waterkeeper conference in Casco Bay, Maine. I was immediately taken with the warmth and passion of the grey beard Waterkeepers. What I learned from listening, watching and reading about the accomplished early Waterkeepers was how to take what was in my head and my heart and give it a voice — a loud voice, a confident and informed voice. One that would always put the river first, right after my two boys.

I learned to use the Southern Belle thing to my river’s advantage. I’ve learned how to take that voice — my new strong voice — and use it while wearing heels, a black suit and pearls. It never fails to startle the guys on the other side.

I’ll admit — I’m not always outwardly strong. I melt at times. I’m never happy about it; I feel weak when I cry, but it’s always because I care so much, and usually because I am so damn mad. But this too can produce results. One such episode resulted in a series of hearings on coal-fired power plants. I truly believe that if I hadn’t had a meltdown, those opportunities for the public to speak would not have occurred. But, it sure took it out of me. I’d much prefer lawsuits.

What I have learned is that each of us must work hard to understand who we are as individuals, how we each can best contribute and make a difference using whatever talents we have, and then go for it with all our might and passion.

I also know that I could never be doing this work if I didn’t know that each Waterkeeper was out there doing the same thing, working just as hard and fighting the same sort of greed, ignorance and corruption that harms our quality of life, our communities and our children’s future.

The Waterkeeper movement has come a very long way from my first Waterkeeper meeting in Casco Bay. Personally, I’ve come a long way too, although I’m still perfecting my voice for the river. I try to remind myself as often as I can why I do this work. It’s not just for the adrenalin rush when we beat the greedy bastards on the other side. It’s for people like the family that I saw this summer, celebrating a birthday beside the river, with a piñata hanging from a nearby tree. It’s for people like A.J. James and her neighbors who fought against pollution from the expansion of a state prison that was harming the community’s lakes and wetlands. But, mostly, it’s for two boys named Charles and Robert, and their children. w