Exploring America’s ‘Blackest City’: A Deep Dive into Environmental Injustice and Its Impact on the Community

Mississippi has always been a significant place in my family’s history—especially when it comes to the darker chapters of its past. My father often mentioned the heartbreaking case of Emmett Till, a 14-year-old boy from Chicago. His life was brutally cut short during a visit to his grandparents in the Mississippi Delta in 1955. For many civil rights activists, his tragic story became a rallying point against racial violence and injustice. Mississippi is rich in history and has been home to many noteworthy figures, like Medgar and Myrlie Evers, Lawrence Guyot, and Fannie Lou Hamer.

Sadly, many of these heroes have passed away. It feels almost like a blessing that they didn’t live to see the current state of our country. If they could see Jackson, the capital of Mississippi, I can only imagine their heartbreak.

Today, Jackson represents neglect and crumbling infrastructure. Residents often struggle with basic necessities like water pressure. Many families can’t flush their toilets. Teachers have to rely on online classes due to failing water systems. Patients with cancer have even been asked to leave hospitals because the water quality is unsafe. Such a scenario in a capital city is almost unimaginable in other parts of America.

Jackson is often called the “Blackest city in America,” with over 80% of its population being African American. However, the city is losing residents. By 2023, fewer than 150,000 people lived there. Once, white residents made up about half of the population; now, they account for only around 15%.

This situation tells a bigger story about environmental injustice and climate change. Jackson is a prime example of how longstanding neglect complicates the impact of climate-related disasters. We often respond urgently to hurricanes or floods, but what about the ongoing slow deterioration caused by systemic neglect? Why don’t we treat that with the same urgency?

On a recent trip to Jackson, I met a young woman who shared her experiences with her grandmother’s home. The water that came from the faucet was a disturbing copper color. Her grandmother had accepted boiling the water as part of daily life, a sad norm for many in the city. Residents frequently have to boil water just to make it safe, if they even have water flowing at all.

Back in 2010, several water mains broke during a harsh winter storm. Efforts to fix these issues were blocked by state officials. This pattern of failure and disregard has continued over the years. The city’s infrastructure deteriorates while officials refuse to step in, leading to a loss of trust and an increasingly fragile community.

Another break in 2016 left a massive ditch next to a golf course for seven years. In early 2020, a record amount of rain overwhelmed the sewage system, leading to raw sewage being dumped into the Pearl River. When a bipartisan group came together to propose a plan to help residents pay their overdue bills, Governor Tate Reeves vetoed it. He claimed that other cities also had problems and that they shouldn’t receive special treatment.

Here lies the heart of the issue: when residents pay their water bills, they’re not just paying for clean water. They’re also covering sewage and stormwater costs. In cities like Jackson, where the water system is failing, these bills can become overwhelming for low-income families.

In 2021, another winter storm wreaked havoc on Jackson’s aging infrastructure, leaving many without water for over a month. The city saw another collapse in August 2022 during heavy rainfall. The water supply became so low that people struggled to flush toilets or take showers. Residents lived under boil-water advisories, and Governor Reeves confirmed that the city couldn’t produce enough water for basic needs.

Finally, after months of struggles, the federal government stepped in. President Biden declared a state of emergency for 90 days. The Department of Justice later revealed that Jackson was not complying with the Safe Drinking Water Act, leading to a court order for a new manager to oversee the water system. Despite receiving federal funds, Mississippi officials have made it nearly impossible for the city to escape its crisis.

One question lingers: Why would state officials let Jackson falter? It could be connected to the city’s progressive Black population, which has faced historical neglect and discrimination. The ongoing challenges can’t be separated from these social and political realities. The water crisis in Jackson is not just a series of unfortunate events; it feels like a slow drip—an intentional sidelining of a community.

A city in crisis sends a message to potential investors, showing that Mississippi struggles with inequality. Yet, history reminds us that even in darkness, there is a chance for change. As the great Sam Cooke said, “A Change Is Gonna Come.”