The Environmental Arts Program
This is post #2 in a series of stories introducing Calla Terra to the world. In my previous writing, I shared a bit about my work as Program Manager at a youth arts nonprofit called ArtWorks for Milwaukee. I created an environmental arts program about halfway through my four-year tenure at the organization, and here’s a little backstory…
The mission of the environmental arts program was to utilize placemaking and public art to bring the community together and address local environmental issues; its goals centered around ArtWorks’ programming pillars: career readiness, art-making, and community engagement, and the new one I established, environmental sustainability. I wanted to equip our teen interns with tools to spread an important message about our global environment, giving them opportunities to recognize their potential to create positive change in their city and to create artwork that has real-world meaning.
The program took place in what’s known as the 30th Street Corridor on Milwaukee’s Northwest Side. ArtWorks had been working there for several years prior to my tenure as Program Manager, and its existing partners in the area were excited to continue working with youth and the arts. As I learned more about the region, the community partnerships started spidering out like a beautiful web as I met people from neighborhood associations, economic development entities, and environmentally focused groups. Many of these partners were eventually involved in the program’s major art projects, but they also supported smaller activities, such as trash cleanups, nature hikes, and neighborhood tours.
The environmental arts interns and me at the annual Milwaukee Riverkeeper cleanup along Lincoln Creek
All of these people were working on a unified front to address environmental matters in the region, many of which were a result of the 30th Street Corridor’s long industrial history; it’s also tied into an even longer history of redlining and systemic racism in the region. (I highly, highly recommend digging into all things written or spoken by the amazing Reggie Jackson, especially his column in Milwaukee Independent.) Understanding the environmental injustice in the Corridor was important to learn as I was developing this program, and I’d like to share that history with you here.
A.O. Smith Corporation, an automotive frame manufacturer with a 148-acre plant in the Corridor, was the second biggest employer in Milwaukee in the 1970s. While A.O. Smith brought a high quality of living to the surrounding African American community, the land development needed to accommodate the company’s massive output and workforce meant that impervious surfaces, such as asphalt and concrete, took over. Rain could no longer soak into the ground or find its way to the region’s once fertile streams and wetlands. Over time, the quantity of stormwater exceeded the sewer system’s capacity and had nowhere to go but streets and basements, eventually contaminating bodies of water on which we rely for drinking.
The 8,000 employees at A.O. Smith started getting laid off, beginning with the decline of the automotive industry after World War II, followed by the 1980s recession. This led to unemployment and generational poverty that’s still pervasive in the region today. Factory closures and a shrinking population resulted in disinvestment in the Corridor; this later slowed progress on the long-term economic and environmental issues that came from a corporation which once brought so much abundance to the neighborhood.
After learning more about this history, it was clear the community had its share of challenges, sometimes appearing like a long-term lose-lose situation. But, while working with neighborhood residents, representatives, and collaborators in my early years at ArtWorks, I saw it was also clear that they were an incredibly strong and passionate group that cared deeply about the health and vitality of the Corridor.
ArtWorks interns and community residents created a handprint painting during a mural unveiling in the Garden Homes neighborhood
This is the difference between deficit-based community programming versus asset-based programming. From a fundraising perspective, showing a “need” (which often ends up looking like a community deficit) is important; understandably, donors want to know their dollars are bettering society. However, I didn’t want to develop this program only focusing on where the neighborhood needs to be improved, especially because I’m not from the neighborhood. I continued collaborations in the neighborhood because the authentic, genuine relationships amongst those neighbors (some being 50+ year residents) and community allies was the Corridor’s biggest asset and I elected to start there.
Read more about what happened next…
The mosaic with 15k plastic bottle caps, thanks to a beautiful community of neighbors, environmental advocates, and local teenagers.
The future plans and lasting impact of environmental advocacy being done in the 30th Street Corridor.
