No Water, No Life: Water Inequality in California’s Central Valley

AUTHOR: Stella Singer

Introduction

Rows upon rows of budding citrus trees spread for miles, an orange smudge of sickly-sweet pulp and hardy leaves in an otherwise barren landscape. A couple miles down the row stand a smattering of houses, piled on crabgrass lawns are empty water jugs, corpses in the dilapidated landscape. Towering above the pockmarked orchards stands a billboard, its fading words proclaiming, “No Water = No Home.” Welcome to the Central Valley.

Lush orchards conceal a neglected issue of social justice: over 100,000 residents in the Valley do not have access to clean water. Below the veneer of The Central Valley’s agricultural abundance lies glaring disparity, clean water is a privilege afforded to the politically powerful and wealthy. In the midst of agricultural abundance unfolds a constant struggle by the local population for a reliable source of water. Afflicted are primarily low-income migrants, stewards of the land whose voices are consistently ignored due to their socio-economic background, which transforms an already complicated situation into an onerous social dilemma. Unincorporated communities of mostly farm workers struggle to access reliable sources of safe drinking water. Exclusionary policies and the social geography of the region systematically oppress these communities and exacerbate an already existing undercurrent of social inequality. Despite the host of barriers standing between local residents and water rights equity, there are a number of grassroots movements fighting for justice. There is hope for unincorporated communities in the Valley.

Water in California has always been a precious commodity; regulated and parsed out, access to water is woven in the fabric of political power and has shaped what the state is today. Where water flows, and more importantly where it can be controlled, life flourishes. The Central Valley has built its entire economy, infrastructure, and social system on this valuable resource. The cultivation of agriculture in the Valley supplies nearly a quarter of food consumed in the nation, it is the lifeblood not only of California but also the entire United States (Casey, 2020). However, this agrarian abundance comes at a hefty cost: intense water usage, a resource that

California notoriously lacks. Drought constantly looms over the state—year after year water levels hit record lows and dry spells last longer (Del Real, 2019). Suffering from drought, but still requiring immense amounts of water, farmers in the Valley resort to over pumping local aquifers. When groundwater is over pumped from a well, toxic chemicals like arsenic and nitrates leach into water supplies (Moore et al., 2011). Consequently, the water systems of unincorporated communities suffer most. Unable to obtain water from safer sources, like larger more funded towns can, unincorporated communities are left to drink the local groundwater. A participant in a 2021 interview series conducted in the San Joaquin Valley expressed that “clearly, crops are more important than people in this area” (Flores-Landeros et al., 2021). This belief is widespread and reinforced by the local government’s refusal to support towns on the fringes. The mighty reign that agriculture stockholders have over policy in the region further limits the possibility of enacting policy that would protect water from agricultural pesticide use. Commercial farming is the root cause of dangerously contaminated public drinking water supplies in the Central Valley; while the residents in the region grow the nation’s food, they cannot even drink their own water (Meadows, 2017).

To begin to delineate the landscape of water inequity in the Central Valley, one must first understand the social geography of the region. Unincorporated communities experience the majority of the fallout of inequitable water systems because they are excluded from many government-funded projects and are often overlooked in census data (Del Real, 2019). The demographics of these communities add an additional layer of concern. A 2013 study conducted by Policy Link found that sixty-five percent of the populations living in disadvantaged unincorporated communities were people of color, meaning that “people of color were disproportionately represented in Disadvantaged Unincorporated Communities in comparison to cities, counties, and Census Designated Places.” This data unearths the divide along racial and ethnic lines in the Valley; communities of color are systematically overlooked and suffer the harshest consequences. Stories of water injustice and disparity are recurrent across the expanse of the Central and San Joaquin Valleys. Town after town, one can find anecdotal evidence of the drastic impact contaminated water has had on families and communities. The impacts are daily and dis- ruptive, tap water is dangerous and families avoid drinking or cooking with it; instead, they resort to jugs of water, bought themselves, to supplement their needs (Moore et al., 2011). Along with paying a monthly water bill, families must buy enough water to consume, which is expensive. Consequently, many families continue to shower and wash up with water from their home systems. In an interview conducted by the New York Times, Martha Sanchez describes how the water “makes their skin itch.” Beyond physical discomfort, consistent and frequent exposure to nitrate/arsenic laden water has been associated with increased cancer rates in the region. An Environmental Health paper reported that around 15,500 cases of cancer in California could occur within 70 years due to unsafe drinking water. The research concluded that “water systems serving small communities [are] often most in need of resources and infrastructure for safe drinking water” (Stoiber, 2019). As cancer rates and household costs rise, residents are left with financial burdens and stressors all attributed to unsafe drinking water.

Although the consequences are highly personal and felt deeply on a local level, the root of the contaminated water issue is systemic. It is a public health crisis furthered by politics on a local and state level. Historically, the social and political geography of the region is soaked in racism and bigoted policy (London et al., 2018). There have been attempts by the government to remediate the water safety issue, but ultimately there is an attitude of stubbornness in local government that halts any hope for long lasting change. One solution includes larger water districts absorbing unincorporated systems, supplying these smaller communities with the same water stability and safety afforded to larger towns.

However, this would mean tax increases for citizens in the incorporated communities, a proposal that is met with harsh disapproval. However, the cost of upgrading and incorporating smaller systems is marginal compared to the benefit (Del Real, 2019). Local government’s neglectful attitude towards the crisis has instilled a negative mindset in impacted citizens. Recurring sentiments in unincorporated Central Valley towns demonstrate a general distrust in local and state government: “we don’t exist to them,” “they only please the bigger voice,” “politicians are thieves,’’ etc. In many cases, “San Joaquin is described as ‘held hostage by bad leadership’” (Flores-Landeros et al., 2021). Most citizens in unincorporated regions view politicians and their programs as corrupt and uninterested in their concerns, a valid point of view considering the track record. Social apathy deepens the divide between communities and political avenues for change. This is where third parties come in and bridge the gap between local townspeople and the state legislature.

Despite the host of barriers standing between local residents and water rights equity, there are a number of grassroots movements fighting for justice. The first step towards justice is community education. If members of the community are informed on their rights and avenues of action, they gain power. Outreach programs include guides like “Climate Change in the San Joaquin Valley: A Household and Community Guide to Taking Action,” which informs readers on the science and policy of their situation. Larger groups like the Environmental Justice Coalition for Water are working tirelessly in the state legislature to “empower the most under-served communities … throughout California to advocate for clean, safe, and affordable water” (EJCW). At a local level, there are activists like Pedro Hernandez, a key figure in the Leadership Council for Justice and Accountability, who educates and works with residents to fight for inclusion in larger water systems. In 2020, Hernandez led a push by unincorporated Tooleville’s residents to be included in nearby Exeter’s water system. Despite the residents’ poignant appeals, the attempt was unsuccessful because of Exeter’s hesitancy to take on any additional financial burden (Casey, 2020). This resistance by larger local governments to incorporation of smaller water districts is a common occurrence across the Central and San Joaquin Valley. Hernandez and many advocates like him are calling for a more radical state approach but fighting for clean water is an uphill battle in California. Without aggressive support from the state, grassroot attempts to fight for water justice are tedious and frequently unsuccessful.

Environmental threats are exacerbated by socio-economic inequalities, as demonstrated by the paradox in the Central Valley. The social geography of the region places low-income communities, composed predominantly of people of color, at the highest risk for unsafe water. Lacking the financial and political power to help themselves, residents are left paying water bills for unusable water and spending money on clean bottled water. There is hope for the fight for environmental justice in the Valley but the process for incorporation or fundraising to pay for new systems is tedious. It is hindered by stagnant policy and adamant attempts by larger districts to resist change. There is possibility for change; however, the political will of influential sources must support them. Innovation should uplift the disadvantaged, social justice and environmental protection must go hand in hand to aid marginalized communities.

WORKS CITED

Food, but They Can’t Drink the Water.” New York Times , 21 May 2019.

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