Artist's Statement: Not in My Backyard

The Environmental Protection Agency defines environmental justice as “the fair treatment and meaningful involvement of all people regardless of race, color, national origin, or income with respect to the development, implementation, and enforcement of environmental laws, regulations, and policies.” It only takes a short walk to realize this has not been the case in South Apopka.

In this instance, a sign of environmental injustice is a disproportionately large number of hazardous, toxic, or polluting sites within a concentrated area in close proximity to neighborhoods of substandard housing. When I learned there was a medical waste incinerator right next to a playground in Apopka, I knew that something suspicious had happened. It was not until two years later after first learning of this space that I finally had the opportunity to investigate further.

The total area depicted in this series fits within a radius of a quarter mile. Eight of the fourteen images were taken from the playground itself, which Waste Management agreed to build as part of the deal to open a second landfill. It was often difficult to get a good view of the Stericycle medical waste incinerator and two landfills. Overgrown brush and a few thorny vines buffering the fences shield the back view of the facilities. A variety of no trespassing signs on the front make it clear that people are not welcome. Once, when I was taking photographs in front of Stericycle, a truck driver exiting the gate stepped out of his 18-weeler and said, “I see you’re taking pictures, what’s it for?” After I informed him of the academic nature of my project, he replied, “You know we don’t want that.” I waited for him to drive away and continued taking pictures while I myself was in view of the facility’s security cameras.

Whether I was under video surveillance, trekking through thorny brush, or peering through fences, the sense of unease permeated the site, which was made palpable by the sounds and smells suggested in the pictures, but visibly absent.  I could hear the hum of the incinerator as it was in operation, probably spewing out a variety of neurotoxins when I was next door in the playground. After a bit of rain, there’s a pungent smell of what I can only describe as barbequed garbage. Local residents have also raised complaints about the smell of methane that creeps into their houses in the morning, but Waste Management officials say the source of the odor is from a sewage treatment plant across the other side of the neighborhood. With so many sites spewing pollution, accountability is difficult to come by since everyone can point their fingers at everyone else. I felt simultaneously sneaky and unsettled while taking these photographs, a feeling which I intended to convey in this series. Although, when I was done, I could leave. Many people live around here, and this is only one place of thousands with a similar story.