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I’m a climate justice organizer. Here's why I’m fighting for reproductive justice.
Earlier this year, in a horrific conversation with white supremacist podcaster Joe Rogan, Meta CEO Mark Zuckerberg, who started Facebook to rank women’s appearances in 2004, argued that the tech world needs more masculine energy.
Any serious look at the tech world and it’s clear it’s a space already overrun by the male ultra-wealthy class: 88.92% of IT CEOs alone are white men. This is the same cultural demographic and argument now overtaking our governmental systems as well. It’s an arrogance that demands control of all, from the bodies of women, trans folks, queer folks, and young people, to violent control of our environment, the plants, animals, landscapes, and non-human bodies that provide the world’s strength.
Days after serial-sexual-assaulter and white supremacist Donald Trump won the 2024 US presidential election, neo-Nazi Nick Fuentes tweeted, “Your body; my choice.” At his inauguration, Trump proclaimed (insert characteristic Trump voice), “We’re going to drill, baby, drill.”
These two statements are deeply related, echoing the same narratives of control, extraction, exploitation, and domination over our bodies, relatives, and communities.
Our movements must understand the intuitive reality that the attacks on reproductive rights, on reproductive access, and on our bodily autonomy are the same attacks as those on our environment.
All of this is why I found myself outside the Philadelphia Women’s Center near my college on February 8. With dozens of local community members from the grassroots organization Abortion Rights Philadelphia, we chanted, “Abortion is a human right, not just for the rich and white.” Together, we sang Chappell Roan and Beyoncé, building a wall of joy between the clinic’s patients and the masses of anti-abortion protesters, by and large older white men, who had gathered with dramatized pictures of fetuses, attempting to dox and scare patients from accessing their healthcare.
Our movements must understand the intuitive reality that the attacks on reproductive rights, on reproductive access, and on our bodily autonomy are the same attacks as those on our environment. And we must understand the inverse as well.
As New York City-based Afro-Puerto Rican reproductive and climate justice activist Hennessy García points out, “Where we see environmental injustice, we see reproductive injustice as well.” They go hand in hand.
For example, breathing in polluted air increases the likelihood for pregnant people to give birth prematurely. The same is true for exposure to water pollution, toxins from superfund sites and brownfields, proximity to fossil fuel infrastructure, and the effects of extreme heat. All of these environmental hazards are, by and large, located in communities of color, especially low-income communities, across the country. This means that when Trump chants, “Drill, baby, drill” and loosens our already weak environmental protections, he’s putting pregnant people of color at risk of both climate and environmental injustices and harms.
This is also the case for women and transgender or non-binary (TGNB), intersex, and LGBTQIA+ people, independent of pregnancy, and for disabled people as well, due to societal structure, gendered roles, discrimination, and resource inequity. It is also true that sexual violence rates for women and TGNB folks increase significantly in the aftermath of climate disasters.
The clear takeaway here: Women and TGNB people’s lives and sexual and reproductive health are being threatened by Trump, fossil fuel companies, and their Democratic allies, worsening climate and environmental crises.
This is all intentional. While Trump bars the words “environmental justice,” “gender,” “female,” “women,” and “pregnancy” from federal agencies and refers to Gaza and Palestine as “demolition site[s],” he also pushes a proposal of a $5,000 cash “baby bonus” to every American mother after delivery. The Trump administration wants women, on one hand, to reproduce endlessly, and on the other hand, it condemns women in Black and brown communities to death, displacement, and genocide. Whether those be Black and brown communities overburdened by fossil fuels and extractive infrastructure, by police brutality and deportation, or whether they be like in Gaza, by incessant deadly bombardment.
Look at Elon Musk and his 14 children with four different younger women. In November, he tweeted, “Instead of teaching fear of pregnancy, we should teach fear of childlessness.” As Arwa Mahdawi of The Guardian argues, “It’s easy for Musk, who will never have to carry any of the children he’s so keen on having, to be blasé about pregnancy risks: He can outsource them all,” pointing to one of his partners, Grimes, who almost died during the pregnancy of their son X Æ A-12.
As Garcia says, “People with the ability to get pregnant are not machines.” But that’s exactly what the Trump-Musk administration wants.
It’s all, ultimately, about building logics for masculine control across every area of our lives, bodies, and world.
They want those who fit into their racialized view of “America” to reproduce endlessly, and they want those who don’t to be oppressed, to work as capital creators, and to, in many cases, die.
There’s a deep, contradictory nature to this logic. On one hand, Trump is trying to stop people of color from accessing abortion or contraceptive care, and on the other, he is trying to literally facilitate their deaths. And for white women, he’s encouraging them to give birth as much as possible, yet still not offering childcare or maternal care—instead, he scrubs the word “pregnancy” from the Department of Health and Human Services. He’s offering $5,000 to women who give birth—a measly sum compared to the $237,482 it takes to raise a child in the US—and simultaneously plans to limit childcare and eliminate Head Start. Ultimately, it’s not just about eugenic-reminiscent reproductive policy; it’s about control. It’s about strategic destabilization, whether it’s control of land—from Black, brown, and Indigenous communities to Gaza, Panama, and Greenland—or control of bodies and reproductive, life-making capacities, from Nick Fuentes’ “Your body; my choice” to the aforementioned actions of the administration. It’s also about exploitation, whether it’s mass deportations or labor exploitation, like the forms of slavery and exploitation for incarcerated individuals appearing across the country, from Louisiana to California.
Layer in the climate crisis and mass inaffordability, and this image of control becomes an even more frightening picture.
These same narratives of masculine control are what propel anti-climate, pro-fossil fuel policy in this current administration. Trump’s stated goal with his Department of Energy, now led by fracking CEO Chris Wright, is to “unleash [a] aolden era of American energy dominance.” He’s also created the National Energy Dominance Council to bolster fossil fuel exploitation of our climate, of indigenous lands, and of communities of color. The through line is that these men are trying to dominate.
We see this also in popular narratives against climate action. Professional misogynist and sex trafficker Andrew Tate wrote in a now-infamous Twitter exchange, ultimately leading to his arrest, “@GretaThunberg, please provide your email address so I can send a complete list of my car collection and their respective enormous emissions,” attaching an image of his collection of over 33 sports cars.
Writing about the exchange, author Rebecca Solnit wrote: “There’s a direct association between machismo and the refusal to recognize and respond appropriately to the climate catastrophe. It’s a result of versions of masculinity in which selfishness and indifference—individualism taken to its extremes—are defining characteristics, and therefore caring and acting for the collective good is their antithesis.”
Flaunting dominance over people and nature is deemed manly, whilst care is deemed as unmanly. And, taking action with respect to justice, the environment, or our collective future—as epitomized by Greta Thunberg—is deemed as womanly.
It’s all, ultimately, about building logics for masculine control across every area of our lives, bodies, and world.
These dynamics don’t care for separations between environment and climate or climate and reproduction—it’s all a question of exploitation and increased power and domination for the white male ultra-wealthy few. To face this, our movements for justice, too, must be just as deeply intersectional.
The SisterSong Women of Color Reproductive Justice Collective, a storied reproductive justice organization, defines “Reproductive Justice [as] the human right to maintain personal bodily autonomy, have children, not have children, and parent the children we have in safe and sustainable communities” (italics added).
There is no reproductive justice without ending fossil fuel expansion. There is no reproductive justice without a just, Indigenous, and worker-led societal transformation to renewable, community-controlled energy.
It means placing bodily autonomy at the center of our fight for climate justice, and breaking down the divides between our movements.
It’s time for us to incorporate reproductive justice just as deeply into our fight for climate justice. That means for us in the climate space to show up at our local abortion clinic to protect patients; it means connecting with and learning from local reproductive justice organizers in our area; and it means bringing in a reproductive justice platform into our climate policy. It doesn’t just mean supporting Planned Parenthood; it means listening to the Reproductive Justice movement and finding the local fights, whether legislative or practical, near you, and getting involved. It means funding local abortion funds that are always in need of donations, like those affiliated with the grassroots National Network of Abortion Funds.
It means placing bodily autonomy at the center of our fight for climate justice, and breaking down the divides between our movements. It means rejecting centrist politicians like New York Gov. Kathy Hochul, who claim leadership on reproductive rights and climate justice, while vetoing legislation to protect those seeking reproductive and gender-affirming care and fast-tracking new fossil fuel pipelines.
There is no other way to face the capitalist fossil-fueled heteropatriarchical oligarchy that has now overtaken our government and seeks to dominate us all.
Climate justice is reproductive justice.
The South’s Black communities are being disenfranchised by their state legislators and poisoned by AI data centers—a lethal combination that strips them of their political voice, while subjecting them to a slow death.
On May 7, the Republican-controlled Tennessee legislature passed new redistricting maps that dismantled the Memphis-based 9th District and split the city’s 63% Black population across three conservative, white-majority districts:


This hyper-partisan and blatantly racist gerrymander will have devastating effects for Memphians. Here, I’ll focus on one: the city’s struggles against AI data centers.
Memphis serves as the headquarters of xAI’s “Colossus” facilities. The Elon Musk-owned company brags that Colossus 1 is “the world’s biggest AI supercomputer.” It is the power source behind X-Twitter’s Grok, the deep-fake generating, misinformation superspreading chatbot.
The massive data center lies one mile away from Boxtown—a neighborhood in South Memphis founded by formerly enslaved Black people in the aftermath of the Civil War. Today, 95% of its residents are Black, the median income is less than $37,000, and the poverty rate is more than 31%. Like many Black communities in the South, Boxtown has been subject to decades of environmental racism. This refers to the disproportionate exposure of communities of colors to toxic waste, pollution, and other environmental hazards.
That is, of course, the entire point of this gerrymander: to render Memphis’ Black vote politically irrelevant; to undermine the power of Black communities to band together to fight against a common struggle.
Including Colossus 1, more than 17 polluting facilities are in or near Boxtown. This includes: an oil refinery, a steel mill, a wastewater treatment center, a gas-burning power plant (which burned coal from 1959 to 2018), and an abandoned military base designated by the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) as a contaminated site.
This has had devastating effects on the health and well-being of Boxtown’s residents. Cancer rates are four times higher than the national advantage. Shelby county, which includes Boxtown, has an “F” rating in air quality for ground-level ozone (smog) from the American Lung Association. It also has the highest rate of children hospitalized for asthma across the entire state.
Colossus 1 worsens these problems. The Southern Environmental Law Center reports that xAI is deploying at least 35 methane gas turbines to power the data center. This is “far more than previously known and more than the company has submitted permit applications for.” These turbines emit enormous quantities of smog-forming pollutants, soot, nitrogen oxides (NOx), and formaldehyde, which are tied to increases in asthma, respiratory diseases, health problems, and various kinds of cancer.
Under Tennessee’s new congressional map, Boxtown is shoved into the state’s 5th Congressional District. This is Rep. Andrew Ogles’ (R-Tenn.) district. Ogles decries “climate tyranny” and the “woke energy elitists.” He advocates for returning “to producing and exporting American oil and natural gas, restoring the drilling and pipeline developments that [President] Biden blocked, and pursuing rational, common sense energy policies.”
Such policies include repealing the Inflation Reduction Act, the largest federal investment in clean energy and climate action, as well as dismantling the Electric Vehicle Working Group, which offers recommendations regarding the development, adoption, and integration of electric vehicles (EVs) into the country’s transportation and energy systems. He also co-sponsored a joint resolution challenging the Biden administration’s “Clean Power Plan 2.0,” which sought to significantly cut emissions from coal and gas-burning power plants.
With regards to AI and data centers, his concerns are solely about national security. Ogles remarks, “If a major data center is attacked, disrupted, or taken offline, the consequences can reach far beyond one company or one sector.” In a hearing on advanced technologies and cybersecurity, he notes that AI is “now woven into how Federal, State, and local governments operate, how intelligence is collected and analyzed, how critical infrastructure functions, and how American companies compete in a global economy.” He continues, protecting these technologies and crucial infrastructure is vital for ensuring America’s “prosperity for years to come” and “our role as the, quite frankly, sole superpower.”
Ogles’s anti-environmentalist, pro-AI politics does not represent the interests and desires of the people of Boxtown. Yet, unfortunately, he is the representative that Tennessee state legislators elected for them. To make matters worse, because of the Supreme Court, Boxtown’s situation will be far from unique.
xAI’s Colossus 2 became fully operational in 2026. This data center, which is larger than Colossus 1, is located in Whitehaven—another predominately Black and poor South Memphis neighborhood.
Like Boxtown, Whitehaven is in Shelby County. However, under the new gerrymandered map, it is part of the state’s newly reconfigured 9th District. Its current representative, Steven Cohen (D-Tenn.), is among the most consistent advocates for protecting the environment and public health. However, in light of the state’s efforts to disenfranchise Memphians, Cohen has decided not to run for reelection.
Whitehaven’s future is in serious jeopardy. Minutes after the Tennessee General Assembly approved the state’s gerrymander, Tennessee state Sen. Brent Taylor (R-31) announced his candidacy for the representative seat.
Taylor praises xAI as “a great asset for Memphis.” When asked about the environmental concerns raised by residents, he responded: Tthose “environmental concerns predate xAI’s arrival in Memphis and the efforts to address them thus far seem to be misguided.” He explains: “The way I would address the concerns is not to attempt to close xAI or browbeat them to leave Memphis, but I would engage with them and local government to enter into conversations about potential buyout of nearby homes… This would seem to be a much more constructive way to address the environmental concerns of the neighbors.”
He praises how “xAI has worked to overcome every environmental concern raised.” This includes using “water that has been trucked in” to cool its systems (which is contributing to more pollution), and “purchasing a decommissioned energy plant in nearby Mississippi to generate a portion of their own energy.”
That Mississippi site is in Southaven, 5 miles away from Whitehaven. It is currently the subject of a National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) lawsuit alleging that xAI is violating the Clean Air Act by operating 27 gas turbines without any permits.
If Taylor replaces Cohen, it is clear he would put xAI over Memphians. Given that the new 9th District spans nearly 300 miles from southern Memphis to the suburbs of Nashville, their diluted votes would be easy to ignore. That is, of course, the entire point of this gerrymander: to render Memphis’ Black vote politically irrelevant; to undermine the power of Black communities to band together to fight against a common struggle. Importantly, Boxtown and Whitehaven—communities that are less than six miles apart—are now burdened with having to secure two congressional seats to have their voices and interests represented.
Similar redistricting efforts are being pushed by Republicans in Alabama, Louisiana, Mississippi, Georgia, and South Carolina. Like Memphis, Black and poor communities in those states are also under threat by AI data centers. This includes: the recently green-lit Project Marvel in Bessemer, Alabama; the 20 data centers being planned across southern Fulton County in Georgia; a $27 billion data center being built by Meta in Richland Parish in Louisiana; and a proposed data center complex the size of 1,200 football fields being planned for the Walterboro area in South Carolina. These are just a few of the more than 3,000 operational data centers across the US.
The South’s Black communities are being disenfranchised by their state legislators and poisoned by AI data centers—a lethal combination that strips them of their political voice, while subjecting them to a slow death.
In both instances, their rights, health, and livelihoods are jeopardized by bad faith appeals to “progress.” On the one hand, the Supreme Court justifies dismantling the Voting Right Act because of the “great strides [made] in ending entrenched racial discrimination” across the US and “particularly in the South.” Here, decades of hard-won social progress become the pretext for erasing the Black vote.
On the other hand, Elon Musk touts that, as AI and robotics develop, “Everyone will have access to medical care that is better than what the president receives right now.” Here, the promise of progress and a richer, healthier future becomes the pretext for callously exposing the most vulnerable communities to the most harmful toxins.
The path forward will be difficult, but two things are clear: We must put an end to these partisan and racist gerrymanderings. We must put a moratorium on AI data centers. Just as we cannot allow elected officials to steal our votes, we cannot permit a handful of tech companies to sacrifice our bodies for their profits. Now is the time to fight back—to defend the progress that we have made as a nation; to defend the vulnerable and give voice to those who are being silenced; and to bring about the future that we desire for ourselves.
As the Memphis-born civil rights leader Dr. Benjamin Hooks put it: “If anyone thinks that we are going to stop agitating, they had better think again. If anyone thinks that we are going to stop litigating, they had better close the courts. If anyone thinks that we are not going to demonstrate and protest, they had better roll up the sidewalks.”
Their behavior reveals an air of entitlement to turn any community they choose into another noisy, polluting data center hub, extracting massive resources and tax breaks in the process.
Even if you’ve never stood next to a data center, you’ve probably felt its impacts. For instance, if you’re one of the 65 million people served by regional transmission giant PJM in the eastern United States, a huge spike in projected demand for electricity, driven almost entirely by proposed data centers, has raised your electric bills. But standing next to a data center—or worse, living next to one—is where you can really feel the totality of its impact. I didn’t fully realize this until I spent time in the belly of the beast.
In January, I took a trip to Loudoun County, Virginia, home of the notorious Data Center Alley, to do research for my new podcast project for the Institute for Local Self-Reliance called “The Data Centers Are Coming.” I wanted to learn about how ever-expanding data center facilities impact their neighbors. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw as I crested a rise on the freeway: 199 operational data centers laid out before me and around 100 more under construction, densely packed together and sprawling to the horizon. So much digging and building left everything covered in red dust, giving the whole scene an eerie, Martian feel. The noise was unbelievable, clanking metal and chugging diesel engines all atop a deep industrial hum.
The people that live here are experiencing negative health effects stemming from pollution and chronic severe noise exposure. I talked to people in neighborhoods where folks no longer hang out in their yards because of the noise, in turn becoming isolated from their neighbors. I heard about people spending thousands on renovations just so they can sleep through the noise. One Loudoun County resident measured the noise at 70 decibels on his front porch—equivalent to a vacuum cleaner that never turns off.
People die here, too. I visited Tippets Hill Cemetery, a historic Black burial ground dating to before the Civil War, now surrounded on three sides by monumental, noisy data centers. It was like nothing I’d ever seen or heard.
As West Virginia advocate and researcher Cathy Cunkel told me, the data center issue “isn’t about Left vs. Right, it’s about Up vs. Down.”
This is Big Tech’s vision for America. Their behavior reveals an air of entitlement to turn any community they choose into another Data Center Alley, extracting massive resources and tax breaks in the process. Elon Musk built what he called the world’s biggest supercomputer next to the Boxtown neighborhood in Memphis, Tennessee. Dismayed at the idea of waiting for a grid connection to power his massive electricity needs, he plopped more than 30 huge generators in the parking lots next to his Colossus data center, essentially building an unregulated gas power plant himself. This, of course, circumvented any regulatory processes, spewing dangerous pollution into adjacent Boxtown.
It’s worth noting that Boxtown is a historically Black neighborhood, founded by freedmen after the Civil War. But according to the logic of data center proponents, the land was already a lost cause. One podcast guest said, “Elon, what he did with Memphis is objectively somewhat dirty, but he’s also doing it in an area where there’s like, a bigger natural gas plant right next door and like, a wastewater treatment and a garbage dump nearby, right?” By this logic, the presence of other polluting facilities somehow gives data centers permission to pollute more. Industry has already colonized these communities, so what’s a bit more colonization?
My research travels also took me to remote, mountainous Tucker County, West Virginia, home to a few idyllic small towns and a thriving outdoor recreation economy. A mysterious shell company, Fundamental Data, is trying to build a data center and power plant next to the landfill between the towns of Davis and Thomas. Many residents there have concluded that Fundamental Data saw old strip-mined land behind a landfill and considered it theirs to extract from.
Nikki Forrester is one such resident refusing to accept this data center land grab. An organizer with Tucker United, she argues that thinking the only use for old strip-mined land is industrial development is a failure of imagination: “You could do a lot of restoration and trail development and all sorts of stuff on old strip mine land. We bike on awesome bike trails through old strip mines all the time.” Restoring this land for outdoor recreation would keep with what people love about Tucker County, not to mention what drives much of the local economy. Building a data center on that land threatens all of that.
The story of companies seeing community resources and assuming that they can easily extract them because “nobody is using them anyway” is not new. Indeed, such thinking runs beneath America’s 250-year history and beyond, from the seizure of Indigenous lands to highway expansion, from industrial agriculture to today’s data center boom. But another undercurrent of American history is localized resistance to corporate power and extraction, from the Boston Tea Party to the West Virginia Mine Wars, from the Great Railroad Strike to the successful unionization at Amazon’s JFK8 warehouse in Staten Island.
We see that resistance today as vibrant and fearless coalitions form across the country to resist the corporate extraction of data center construction. These coalitions are so strong in part because people of all stripes, across the political spectrum, resent the idea of tech corporations feeling entitled to their local resources. As West Virginia advocate and researcher Cathy Cunkel told me, the data center issue “isn’t about Left vs. Right, it’s about Up vs. Down.”
When framed this way—the powerful and rich vs. the people they’re trying to extract resources from— the data center fight becomes another chapter in a long American history of resisting corporate extraction enabled by feckless, unimaginative politicians.