The Anacostia River is eight miles long, flowing from Bladensburg, Md. into the Potomac River at the southeast tip of Washington, D.C. It has often been referred to as the nation’s “Forgotten River,” as it is admittedly one of the most polluted and toxic rivers in the country. It flows in the shadow of our striking, yet almost ostentatious-looking Capitol building. Due to its geographic location, many have labeled the river’s pitiful condition a national embarrassment. I, however, view the location of the river to be symbolic in a different light: it separates one part of the District from the rest of the city – the part of which most Georgetown students will never set foot on in their lives.
“Environmental racism” is a relatively new and controversial topic of discussion. Perhaps the freshness of the issue and its controversy are what go hand in hand. It has come about due to the increasingly obvious correlation between inequitable pollution levels of waterways and the river’s location near poor urban areas. It is sometimes a very difficult issue to argue because there are many exceptions to these correlations. For example, as residents of Georgetown, we all know that our Potomac River isn’t exactly sparkling, and hence not reflective of this part of the city’s income bracket. The Potomac, although a polluted disgrace, is still much better off than its Anacostian sister that lurks in its shadow. Symbolically, it is also interesting to see how the Potomac is labeled the “National River” and has attracted abundant attention for its apparently dire pollution problem. Very little of this publicity has been given to its “forgotten” counterpart.
Those who don’t believe in the existence of environmental racism have interpreted the Anacostia situation to be one in which the poor condition of the river is associated with an area of low income/poverty – basically, these people, regardless of their ethnicity, cannot take care of the natural resources that lie in their urban domain. I find this to be pretty funny – considering a great deal of the toxic run-off and trash deposits that saturate the Anacostia have their origins in neighboring aryland. The residents of Anacostia have been perpetually blamed for the river’s unhealthy condition – when it is mainly the upper-middle class suburban residents of Maryland who are throwing the responsibility, along with their trash, for the Anacostian residents to endure.
The Anacostia is, after all, one river. Though small in size, in some way it connects the suburban with the urban, the expensive neighborhoods with the industrial ones and the wealthy people with the not so wealthy people. Like all rivers, it offers a powerful symbol of connection. “The forgotten river” unfortunately represents a lot of what rich Washington, D.C. residents choose to ignore on a daily basis: the relative proximity of forgotten neighborhoods, forgotten people, forgotten school districts and forgotten deaths. The government’s environmental agenda is much more focused on cleaning up the Potomac as means of exhibition, and leaving it at that.
The river could be a viable economic as well as recreational resource for the residents of the eastern part of the city, as the Anacostia has sparked some local attention from community-based groups. Organizations, including the Anacostia Watershed Network, have become passionate in their attempt to revitalize this important symbol of the city and community life. With time and determination on behalf of the community, the Anacostia River may shape up and become a stimulated resource. This hope rests in the same category as the hope to invigorate and reform the urban layout of the District of Columbia.
Sonia Mukhi is a junior in the School of Foreign Service. A Young Woman’s Pen usually appears every other Tuesday.