Defending the Arctic

When Quannah Rose Chasinghorse Potts thinks about the harsh Alaskan winters of her childhood, she remembers when it would get so cold that cars and buses wouldn’t start. On those days, she and her siblings would hop in a sled and a dog team would pull them to school. Quannah, now 18 years old, is a member of the Han Gwich’in and Oglala Lakota tribes. She grew up in the remote interior of Alaska, a region known for wide stretches of forests filled with conifer trees like pine and spruce. Quannah’s tribe, the Gwich’in people, are believed to have lived on this land for more than 20,000 years.

Quannah Rose Chasinghorse Potts remembers the harsh Alaskan winters of her childhood. It would get so cold that cars and buses wouldn’t start. On those days, she and her siblings would hop in a sled. A dog team would pull them to school. Quannah is now 18 years old. She’s a member of the Han Gwich’in and Oglala Lakota tribes. She grew up in the remote interior of Alaska. The region’s wide stretches of forest are filled with conifer trees like pine and spruce. Quannah’s tribe, the Gwich’in people, are believed to have lived here for more than 20,000 years.

Just north of these tribal lands lies a vast expanse of treeless tundra called the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR). ANWR is the largest protected wilderness in the United States. At 78,050 square kilometers (30,136 square miles), it’s about the size of South Carolina. The Gwich’in depend on this land for survival. Unfortunately, the pristine expanse of tundra, coastline, and snow-capped mountains is under threat from warming temperatures caused by climate change and habitat destruction from energy development like oil drilling.

For four generations, the Gwich’in have been fighting to protect both ANWR and their people’s traditional way of life. “I was raised on Indigenous lands,” says Quannah, who joined the movement to protect the refuge when she was 16. For the past two years, Quannah has traveled around the United States raising awareness of the impacts of climate change and speaking out against energy development. “I learned from a young age why we have to fight so hard to protect our sacred lands in the refuge,” she says.

A vast area of treeless tundra lies just north of these tribal lands. It’s called the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR). The ANWR is the largest protected wilderness in the United States. It covers 78,050 square kilometers (30,136 square miles), an area about the size of South Carolina. The Gwich’in depend on this land for survival. Sadly, its unspoiled tundra, coastline, and snow-capped mountains are under threat. Temperatures are rising because of climate change. Another threat is habitat destruction from energy development like oil drilling.

For four generations, the Gwich’in have been fighting to protect the ANWR. They’re also fighting to protect their traditional way of life. “I was raised on Indigenous lands,” says Quannah. She joined the movement to protect the refuge when she was 16. For the past two years, Quannah has traveled around the United States. She explains the impacts of climate change and speaks out against energy development. “I learned from a young age why we have to fight so hard to protect our sacred lands in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge.”

The lands that make up ANWR are a central part of Gwich’in culture, providing the remote communities with many basic necessities. Throughout her childhood, Quannah remembers being “out on the land every year, hunting and fishing.”

The refuge has a huge amount of biodiversity. It is home to more than 40 species of land and marine mammals, including polar bears, wolves, and bowhead whales. Millions of birds migrate to the refuge. The region also supports the animal most important to the Gwich’in: a species of reindeer called the Porcupine caribou.

The lands of the ANWR are an important part of Gwich’in culture. The remote communities find many basic necessities there. During her childhood, Quannah remembers being “out on the land every year, hunting and fishing.”

The refuge has a huge amount of biodiversity. More than 40 species of land and marine mammals are found there. They include polar bears, wolves, and bowhead whales. Millions of birds migrate to the refuge. The animal that is most important to the Gwich’in also lives there. It’s a species of reindeer called the Porcupine caribou. 

Starting in April of each year, a herd of more than 200,000 caribou migrates through Gwich’in lands. The herd travels 2,400 km (1,500 mi) from the Northwest Territories in Canada to the coastal plains of ANWR—the longest known migration of any land mammal (see Seeking Refuge). During this migration, the caribou are hunted for their meat and pelts.

Each year, more than 200,000 Porcupine caribou migrate through Gwich’in lands. The herd starts moving in April. It travels 2,400 km (1,500 mi) from the Northwest Territories in Canada to the coastal plains of the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. This is the longest known migration of any land mammal (see Seeking Refuge). Along the way, the caribou are hunted for their meat and coats.

In June, the herd arrives at the coast. There, the female caribou will give birth to tens of thousands of calves in just two weeks. The coastal plains are relatively free of predators and flat enough that the caribou can see approaching threats from a distance. The sea breeze keeps swarming mosquitoes off the young calves. Migrating birds fertilize the soil with their droppings, creating fresh grasses for caribou to graze on. It’s no wonder the Gwich’in call this coastal region “Iizhik Gwats’an Gwandaii Goodlit,” which means “The Sacred Place Where Life Begins.” But the land where wildlife and the Gwich’in have thrived together for so long is changing.

The herd reaches the coast in June. There, tens of thousands of calves are born in just two weeks. Not many predators live on the coastal plains. And because the land is flat, the caribou can see threats coming from a distance. The sea breeze keeps clouds of mosquitoes off of the young calves. Migrating birds fertilize the soil with their droppings. That creates fresh grasses for caribou to eat. For good reason, the Gwich’in call this coastal region “Iizhik Gwats’an Gwandaii Goodlit.” That means “The Sacred Place Where Life Begins.” Wildlife and the Gwich’in have thrived here together for a long time. But now the land is changing.

The Arctic is warming faster than almost any other place on Earth because of climate change. Scientists agree that this long-term change in global weather patterns is primarily caused by the burning of fossil fuels to produce energy. When people burn coal, oil, and natural gas, they release greenhouse gases that trap heat in Earth’s atmosphere.

The Gwich’in are witnessing the effects of climate change firsthand. “We are seeing birds falling out of the sky dead from starvation, thousands of dead fish, and record-breaking fires,” says Bernadette Demientieff. She’s the head of the Gwich’in Steering Committee, an organization formed in 1988 to protect the caribou and their coastal breeding ground.

The Arctic is warming faster than almost any other place on Earth. This is because of long-term changes in global weather patterns, known as climate change. Fossil fuels are burned to produce energy. Scientists agree that this is the main cause of climate change. When people burn coal, oil, and natural gas, these fuels release greenhouse gases. These gases trap heat in Earth’s atmosphere.

The Gwich’in can see the effects of climate change. “We are seeing birds falling out of the sky dead from starvation, thousands of dead fish, and record-breaking fires,” says Bernadette Demientieff. She’s the head of the Gwich’in Steering Committee. This organization was formed in 1988 to protect the caribou and their coastal breeding ground.

One of the biggest impacts of climate change comes from melting permafrost. More than 80 percent of Alaska is covered in a layer of this permanently frozen soil. When it thaws, the ground becomes waterlogged. Over time, the land can become unstable and give way, forming sinkholes. Along Alaska’s shoreline, the effects of melting permafrost are worsened by rising sea levels. Hotter temperatures are causing ice in colder parts of the world to melt, adding water to the ocean. Rising seas wash away shorelines, many of which are already crumbling from melting permafrost. This is leading to coastal erosion that’s caused some villages to collapse into the water. “A lot of communities have had to relocate from their ancestral lands because it’s unsafe,” says Quannah.

One of climate change’s biggest impacts comes from melting permafrost. This permanently frozen soil layer covers more than 80 percent of Alaska. When it thaws, it soaks the ground. Over time, the land can become unstable. It gives way, forming sinkholes. The effects of melting permafrost are worse along Alaska’s shoreline. That’s because sea levels are rising. In colder parts of the world, hotter temperatures are melting ice. This adds water to the ocean. Many shorelines are already crumbling from melting permafrost. Then rising seas wash them away. This is leading to coastal erosion. Because of it, some Indigenous villages have fallen into the water. “A lot of communities have had to relocate from their ancestral lands because it’s unsafe,” says Quannah.

It’s not just climate change that threatens ANWR. In September 2019, the U.S. government passed a bill to open up the protected area to companies that want to extract oil and natural gas—specifically in the coastal plains where Porcupine caribou breed. Many Gwich’in worry this will further damage these sacred lands (see Impacts of Drilling in the Arctic). “This is one of the last untouched ecosystems in the world,” says Demientieff. “There’s no amount of money worth destroying it over.”

Quannah and many other Indigenous activists are passionately protesting the decision to allow energy companies to drill for oil and gas in ANWR. In 2019, Quannah traveled to Washington, D.C. with the Gwich’in Youth Council to share their stories before the U.S. House of Representatives. They helped persuade the House to temporarily block the decision to drill in the refuge. Next, Quannah joined an effort that successfully convinced several major U.S. banks, including Bank of America and Wells Fargo, to stop investing money in oil and gas drilling projects in ANWR.

Climate change isn’t the only threat to the ANWR. In September 2019, the U.S. government passed a bill. It opened the protected area to companies that want to remove oil and natural gas. The target area is the coastal plains where Porcupine caribou breed. Many Gwich’in worry this will damage these sacred lands even more (see Impacts of Drilling in the Arctic). “This is one of the last untouched ecosystems in the world,” says Demientieff. “There’s no amount of money worth destroying it over.”

The decision would allow energy companies to drill for oil and gas in the ANWR. Quannah and many other Indigenous activists are fighting hard to stop this. In 2019, Quannah traveled to Washington, D.C., with the Gwich’in Youth Council. They shared their stories with the U.S. House of Representatives. The House decided to temporarily block drilling in the refuge. Next, Quannah joined an effort that approached U.S. banks. The activists wanted them to stop investing money in oil and gas drilling projects in the ANWR. Several major U.S. banks, including Bank of America and Wells Fargo, agreed.

In January 2021, the government officially opened up the coastal plain for auction, allowing companies to submit offers to purchase drilling rights on the land. Only three organizations (Alaska’s state-owned economic agency and two small Alaskan companies) placed bids, and no major oil companies participated in the auction. “We were pushing and pushing these big oil companies,” says Quannah. “And none of those companies bid. It was a huge victory.” Later in January, President Joe Biden signed an executive order temporarily blocking oil and gas exploration in ANWR.

No matter what the future holds, Quannah plans to keep fighting for her people and the environment. “My motivation comes from my values, growing up on the land, and understanding how sacred that connection is,” she says. “The refuge deserves our protection.”

In January 2021, the government opened up the coastal plain for auction. Companies could submit offers to buy the land. Only a few small Alaskan companies placed bids. No major oil companies took part in the auction. “We were pushing and pushing these big oil companies,” says Quannah. “And none of those companies bid. It was a huge victory.” Later in January, President Joe Biden signed a new rule. It temporarily blocked oil and gas activity in the ANWR.

Quannah doesn’t know what will happen next. But she plans to keep fighting for her people and the environment. “My motivation comes from my values, growing up on the land, and understanding how sacred that connection is,” she says. “The refuge deserves our protection.”