By Nina Thompson for Next City.
Broadcast version by Suzanne Potter for California News Service reporting for the Solutions Journalism Network-Public News Service Collaboration

Each time a fire breaks out in Northern California, local activist Quinn Redwoods and their collaborators spring into action. Walking through Oakland, Redwoods distributes masks to as many people as they can. They hand out masks in places where no one else is paying attention, like crowded underpasses where unhoused people have no options to escape the smoke. They’ll even stop UPS drivers to offer them a mask. Redwoods describes the activity as “organically emerging.”

It all started back in 2017 during the Tubbs Fire, when it was so smoky in the San Francisco Bay Area it wasn’t safe to be outside. As people started posting on social media desperate to find masks, Redwoods quickly realized that the most vulnerable people in the community would be the least likely to have access to that kind of protective equipment — and also the most exposed. They scanned the web and found one hardware store in Oakland with masks, and went there to buy as many as they could. Then, they turned to Twitter and Venmo, created “Mask Oakland” accounts, and started raising money to buy more. Within hours, Redwoods was passing out masks.

What started as a pop-up organization has just kept going, as Californians and the rest of the country start to understand the risk of unhealthy air from wildfire smoke, which has grown exponentially in recent years. Since 2017, Redwoods has distributed tens of thousands of masks through Mask Oakland, and their approach includes paying special attention to overlooked or marginalized communities. That was part of the intention from the beginning, according to Redwoods, who identifies as “queer, trans, disabled, plural.” As they put it: “Woven in with the history of Mask Oakland and our climate activism has been advocating for people like us.”

Redwoods grew up in Arlington, Virginia, a suburb of Washington, D.C. They remember the community as divided into thirds: people working for the government, people trying to influence the government, and everyone else. Their parents took them to protests as a kid, and they chose to keep going when they were a teen. “From a young age, I also wanted to do something that would help people.”

Redwoods explored different approaches to activism. “And then … I learned that I’m trans and plural, and didn’t really know what to do with that at first,” they say. “So I just kind of went and worked for some environmental groups because I was like, ‘At least I need a planet.’”

Redwoods moved to California in 2014, looking for a place where they could connect with a larger trans community. Three years later, Redwoods was driving home from a permaculture conference near Santa Rosa in Northern California when the Tubbs Fire broke out. “And then it was really windy, like scary windy,” they recall. “And then there was smoke. And then we were driving down the 101 [highway] at night, and it was right before the 101 got shut down. … I drove past [the fire] and I was like, ‘Should we stop and like, look at this?’ And my friend was like, ‘No, keep driving!’”

During the fire, Redwoods remembers hearing that masks were sold-out in many places. They were able to pick up an N95, but many people didn’t have access to masks, which can help protect from wildfire smoke. Seeing so many people exposed to the toxic air freaked them out. “There were people under bridges, no one had any masks and everyone was outside.”

Redwoods decided to take action. “I bought $300 of N95s. And I took a picture of the receipt, created a Twitter account, and created a Venmo.”

From there, Mask Oakland was born.

Redwoods says they drove under some of the highway underpasses where people were camped out, “and I just started giving people some masks and talking to people.” There were no other programs doing anything similar to protect unhoused residents from smoke. “It was just very jarring, like no one’s doing anything. We’re the only ones doing this.”

They were underemployed at the time, and Redwoods recalls spending their days at the Impact Hub in Oakland, a coworking space, “just trying to figure out what I was doing in my life.” Without full-time employment, they lacked financial stability, but had the time and availability to get Mask Oakland off the ground. They were also able to connect with like-minded folks at the coworking space who were keen to help out. So they kept raising money and buying up new batches of masks from the same hardware store. “I think we got about 4,000 masks that year,” Redwoods says. “And I never recovered that 300 bucks.”

The fire ended, and Redwoods went on with their life once the need went away. But just the next year, in 2018, the need arose again. Redwoods started getting messages on Facebook, “and they were like, ‘Hey, the Camp Fire, have you heard of it? Are you guys going to do anything?’ And I was like, ‘Oh God, I guess we better do something.’”

Redwoods teamed up with others and started giving out masks again. One of the volunteers, Cassandra Williams, who had helped in 2017 as well, tweeted about what they were doing. By the end of that night, Redwoods says they received enough money to make up for the costs from that day. And then — “I woke up to about $15,000 in my Venmo from that Twitter thread. And we just built and built and built to about $100,000 raised and 85,000 masks distributed.”

Donations are only one part of the equation in running Mask Oakland. Redwoods found that they were always trying to balance three things: masks, money, and people. There would be an excess of one thing, and not enough of the other. They went through the cycle again in August through October of 2020, another active fire season

“It impacted my health, probably the health of a lot of people who were involved because it’s very stressful and feeling like if I don’t [do something], I can’t rest. If I don’t push myself a little further, then that might be thousands of people who don’t get anything, any help.” Despite the clear need for masks, Redwoods says there still weren’t any other organizations addressing the issue like Mask Oakland was.

The number of Americans experiencing at least one day of unhealthy air from wildfire smoke has increased 27 fold in the last decade, including almost 25 million people in 2020 alone. Since COVID hit, there’s been another complication: the politicization of masks. But the fire risk hasn’t gone anywhere, so Redwoods says people at their organization find themselves having to explain “it’s just for the smoke.”

Redwoods says COVID has “massively complexified everything,” including respiratory health. “It’s like a scientifically proven terrible combo. You know,fire, smoke and COVID.”

Another ongoing challenge: Redwoods says donations can be unreliable if you aren’t constantly “getting attention for the thing you’re doing.” When fires are happening, and there is a lot of media coverage, Mask Oakland receives more donations. But when the fires stop, it seems that people stop caring. Immediately after the Tubbs Fire in 2017 and the Camp Fire 2018, Redwoods says “the support and momentum just collapsed.”

They’ve learned to accept it as part of being a mutual aid organizer — staying nimble and finding other sources of income when it’s slow, so they aren’t dependent on fires to pay the rent.

“It’s a lot of riding waves,” Redwoods says. “And then also it creates this desire for another wave, but you know another wave won’t come unless there’s another fire.”


Nina Thompson wrote this article for Next City.


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The Comanche 3 coal-fired power plant in Pueblo, Colo., is set to close in just six years -- and community leaders, regulators, and Xcel are considering plans to replace the unit's energy and economic contributions.

A new Energy Innovation report suggests that an industrial-scale energy park that harnesses wind, solar, and battery storage would check all the boxes.

Michelle Solomon, electricity policy manager with the nonpartisan think tank Energy Innovation, said the energy park would create some 300 permanent, high-paying jobs in plant operations, engineering, and more.

"The energy park could generate up to $40 million in annual tax revenue for Pueblo," said Solomon, "which is really important because they depend on this tax revenue that they're getting from Comanche right now -- for things like schools and libraries, things that the community can't afford to lose."

Comanche's connection to the power grid would allow the energy park to meet rising demand locally and in places like Colorado Springs and Denver.

A separate proposal calls for replacing Comanche with a small modular nuclear reactor, an energy source that does not emit carbon but remains controversial.

Tribal lands have been repeatedly targeted as radioactive waste dumps, and many still remember nuclear disasters at Three Mile Island, Chernobyl, and Fukushima.

Wind and solar are now the cheapest source for electricity - and Solomon said unlike nuclear-reactor or natural-gas plant projects, ratepayers would share startup costs with onsite manufacturers, who get guaranteed low-cost energy to produce fertilizer, hydrogen, and more.

"That could be used at any type of industry that's using heat," said Solomon. "So, that could be a steel plant, a cement plant, anything that's using heat for manufacturing."

Solomon said speed is also important for getting economic benefits flowing back into the community. The energy park could break ground before 2030, years earlier than other options.

"They are also the types of resources that can come online more quickly," said Solomon. "When the coal plant retires, the community can't wait a decade for a new resource to come online."

Trenton is set to become home to the region's largest battery storage facility but federal policy changes might change how it's funded.

The DTE Trenton Channel Energy Center would use clean energy tax credits from the Inflation Reduction Act but proposed federal cuts threaten the tax credits.

The plant is expected to store enough energy to power 40,000 homes for a day, create union jobs and help offset the area's economic loss from the 2022 closure of the Trenton Channel Power Plant.

James Harrison, director of renewable energies for the Utility Workers Union of America, said he has three generations of family history at the Trenton plant and is concerned about the potential effects of the proposed cuts.

"They're going to probably move forward with projects," Harrison explained. "The difference is going to be whether or not ratepayers are going to be on the hook to pay for that, or whether or not there's an opportunity to utilize tax credits to offset the cost to ratepayers."

In Michigan alone, more than 100 utility-scale projects are in development which could use the tax incentives. Those who want to eliminate the tax credits said the energy sector should compete without federal aid, arguing tax breaks add to the national debt and unfairly favor certain industries.

The Trenton facility is expected to start operations in mid-2026. The battery storage facility is also expected to generate more tax revenue than the former coal plant, which would benefit schools and public services in the Trenton/Wayne County area.

Harrison shared how his family history at the plant site colors his personal feelings about the new facility.

"I've been in the power industry almost 50 years," Harrison noted. "It's nice to see that the very first power plant that I worked at is being repurposed with modern technology to do the very same kind of job that original plant had provided to the community."

Some Republican lawmakers support keeping certain clean energy tax credits, citing their benefits for jobs and local economies. The Trenton project is also expected to contribute to Michigan's efforts to meet its renewable energy targets of using 60% clean energy by 2030, and 100% by 2040.


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By Dawn Attride for Sentient.
Broadcast version by Danielle Smith for Tennessee News Service reporting for the Sentient-Public News Service Collaboration

Methane isn’t exactly the sexiest greenhouse gas. It’s often trumped in the climate conversation by carbon dioxide, a heat-trapping gas known for its longevity in the atmosphere. Yet, methane is more potent — it traps about 80 times more heat over a 20-year period. Human activities are responsible for about 60 percent of methane emissions, with the largest offender being food, such as cows belching out methane during digestion. A new report suggests large supermarket chains, including Walmart, have an important role to play in bringing down methane emissions from food — but for now, none of them are taking action.

Supermarkets are the place where we, as consumers, interact with food systems and to a greater extent, those systems emissions. Food-related methane mainly comes from farm animals — their belches and manure — and food waste in landfill sites. A new report from Mighty Earth and Changing Markets Foundation found that none of the 20 top-grossing retailers in the U.S. and Europe — including household names like Lidl, Kroger and Walmart — are addressing methane emissions within their supply chains.

This leaves a crucial blind spot in reaching 2050 net-zero targets — an emissions reduction goal of the Paris Agreement to tackle climate change — which many of these retailers have committed to. U.S. supermarkets performed especially badly, “displaying a stark lack of climate accountability and ambition from their European counterparts,” the report found.

Retailers Omit Indirect Emissions From Climate Promises

Since none of the 20 food retailers surveyed had set a methane reduction target, Mighty Earth designed a scorecard to assess what action on methane emissions retailers have taken within their food supply chains. Only one UK supermarket, Tesco, scored above 50 points while U.S. retailers Kroger and Walmart lagged behind severely at a mere 9.5 and 7 points, respectively.

Many of the retailers named in the report do have climate plans, and goals to reduce their emissions. Walmart, for example, aims “to achieve zero emissions across global operations by 2040” and reduce their scope 1 and 2 emissions by 2025. Scope 1 and 2 emissions are what’s directly emitted by the company — the energy needed to keep food cold, for instance. Yet there is scant mention of efforts to reduce scope 3 emissions, which are indirect emissions generated from their supply chain, including methane emissions from foods like beef.

Scope 3 emissions aren’t just a drop in the ocean. For grocery stores, they’re the bulk of their climate pollution, estimated to make up 93 percent of European retailers total emissions profile, with meat and dairy accounting for almost half of all scope 3 greenhouse gas emissions, according to the report. In this way, retailers are missing the elephant — or rather the cow — in the room when it comes to creating meaningful climate plans, Gemma Hoskins, global methane lead at Mighty Earth, tells Sentient.

“Supermarkets talk a lot about climate change, but very, very few are acknowledging meat and dairy, given that could be almost 50 percent of their emissions — that is a huge proportion,” Hoskins tells Sentient.

Paul West, senior scientist of Ecosystems and Agriculture at Project Drawdown says most retailers don’t address scope 3 emissions because they can’t directly control them and it requires changing consumers or companies’ behaviors through incentives or penalties. A 2024 decision by the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) ruled that retailers aren’t required to disclose their scope 3 emissions.

Despite these challenges, reducing demand for high-emissions foods remains a critical component of climate plans. “Aside from deforestation, supermarkets’ largest source of greenhouse gas emissions in their supply chains come from raising beef and dairy cattle. Changes in manure management, feed additives and other practices can reduce emissions a bit, but the only big way to do it is to reduce demand. Supermarkets, or any business, have little incentive to reduce demand for one of its products unless there is more demand for an alternative,” West tells Sentient.

A Question of Consumer Demand

Mighty Earth’s researchers argue that retailers are in a unique position to initiate the necessary changes in the food environment due to their ability to negotiate with producers, set prices and market directly to consumers.

The U.S. and EU launched the Global Methane Pledge in 2021 committing to reducing methane emissions by 30 percent by 2030. “Since the food sector is the largest source of methane emissions by people, it needs to lead the way to meet this target,” West tells Sentient.

There is a lack of accountability for retailers. Take food waste, for instance — while in the last year of the Biden administration, the USDA and EPA pledged to cut food waste in half by 2030, there are no legally binding targets for retail supermarkets. Companies can play a role by redirecting unsold food to pantries or educating shoppers on how to effectively reduce waste at home.

The report did note that eleven of the supermarkets do call out animal agriculture emissions as a key contributor to climate change, with many suggesting eating more plant-based foods could help, but the researchers also found these companies often fail to implement the kinds of actionable changes that would address their role in fueling emissions.

This is a missed opportunity, according to Project Drawdown scientist Paul West. “Supermarkets are a critical part of the supply chain. The majority of environmental impact happens earlier in the supply chain, mostly driven by what and how food is produced. On the flipside, most of the food waste in the U.S. and Europe is when it reaches people’s households. The big stores are right in the middle. Because they control so much of the market share, larger stores have more influence on what and how food is produced than consumers do,” West tells Sentient.

In Europe, there is more consumer demand for plant-forward foods because of their Green Deal and other initiatives aimed at reducing carbon emissions and promoting sustainable food systems. In some European countries, there are efforts to knock VAT off plant-based milk to reach price parity with cows milk and “protein split” initiatives to expand supermarket sales of plant proteins. In much the same way that retailers helped inform consumers on the downsides of single use plastics, Hoskins says they need to be transparent about sources of their emissions.

“If you said to the average shopper, do you realize that half of the emissions coming from a retailer are meat and dairy, I think people would be really shocked by that…and would make people think very differently about what was in their basket,” she says.


Dawn Attride wrote this article for Sentient.


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