Nova Scotia Confronts Environmental Racism: Acknowledgment Without Apology

There’s a deep, palpable history woven into the fabric of Nova Scotia, one where Black and Indigenous communities have, for far too long, borne an unbearable weight: environmental racism. A newly unveiled draft report from the province pulls back the curtain on this uncomfortable truth, acknowledging the generations of injustice where these communities were disproportionately targeted for landfills and polluting industries. Yet, in a move that has left many advocates with a bitter taste, the government, while accepting the report's recommendations in principle, is notably hesitant to offer a full, unequivocal apology for these harms. It's a stark reminder that acknowledging a wrong is one thing; truly atoning for it is quite another.

The report doesn't mince words. It lays bare the systemic targeting, generation after generation, of African Nova Scotian and Mi'kmaq communities. Think about places like North Preston, Lincolnville, or Pictou Landing First Nation – these are just a few examples where the air, the land, and the water have been fouled by industries and waste sites, all too often placed in their backyards. For residents, this isn't abstract; it's a lived reality, a constant battle against poor health outcomes and the erosion of their ancestral lands. The report effectively validates what these communities have been saying, loudly and clearly, for decades.

For individuals like Louise Delisle, a powerful environmental advocate from North Preston, this isn't just policy – it's personal. She, along with many others involved in groups like the African Nova Scotian Decade for People of African Descent Coalition and the ENRICH Project, has tirelessly fought for recognition and justice. Their message has been consistent: an apology isn't merely symbolic; it’s a foundational step towards healing and true reconciliation. It signifies a moral reckoning, a commitment to acknowledge the pain inflicted and a promise that such injustices will not be tolerated again. Without it, some fear, the "acknowledgment" rings hollow.

So, where does the government stand? Timothy Halman, the Minister of Environment and Climate Change, has publicly stated that the province accepts the report's findings "in principle." He emphasizes a desire to focus on "doing" rather than just "saying," suggesting that concrete actions are more important than words alone. "It's about the doing," he reiterated, signaling a preference for implementation over a formal verbal apology right now. The government seems keen to move forward with the report’s broader recommendations – like establishing a working group and systemic changes – but appears to be sidestepping the one word many feel is absolutely critical.

But for those who have lived through the impacts of environmental racism, the "doing" can't truly begin without the "saying." An apology, they argue, isn't just a nicety; it's an ethical imperative. Dr. Ingrid Waldron of Dalhousie University, whose work like "There's Something in the Water" has illuminated these very issues, points out that an apology is a vital step in acknowledging the systemic nature of the harm. It’s about taking responsibility for historical injustices, not just the current state of affairs. To skip it, some worry, risks diminishing the gravity of the past and the long-lasting trauma inflicted.

The draft report itself is a significant milestone, a testament to years of tireless advocacy. It proposes a path forward, including the creation of a working group to tackle these issues head-on. However, the lack of a firm commitment to a full apology, coupled with the absence of specific timelines for implementing other recommendations, casts a long shadow. As Nova Scotia grapples with this deeply sensitive issue, the question remains: Can true environmental justice and reconciliation ever be achieved without a genuine, heartfelt apology for the wrongs of the past? It seems the conversation, and the struggle, are far from over.