North Carolina
In a debut book, a love letter to eastern North Carolina — and an indictment of colonialism as a driver of climate change
This story was produced in partnership with Covering Climate Now.
As the planet grapples with the ever-starker consequences of climate change, a debut book by Lumbee citizen and Duke University scientist Ryan Emanuel makes a convincing argument that climate change isn’t the problem — it’s a symptom. The problem, Emanuel explains in On the Swamp: Fighting for Indigenous Environmental Justice, is settler colonialism and its extractive mindset, which for centuries have threatened and reshaped landscapes including Emanuel’s ancestral homeland in what today is eastern North Carolina. Real environmental solutions, Emanuel writes, require consulting with the Indigenous peoples who have both millennia of experience caring for specific places, and the foresight to avoid long-term disasters that can result from short-term material gain.
Born in Charlotte, North Carolina, in 1977, Emanuel was one of a handful of Native students at school. He spent summers visiting family in Robeson County, North Carolina, the cultural center of the Lumbee Tribe, or People of the Dark Water, where he played outside with other children, occasionally exploring a nearby swamp, one of the many lush waterways that slowly wind through the region, with a cousin. Today, Emanuel visits those swamps to conduct research. He describes them with an abiding, sometimes poetic affection, such as one spring day when he stands calf-deep in swamp water, admiring white dogwood flowers floating on the dark surface as tadpoles dart underneath.
But that affection lives with tension. Emanuel describes trying to collect “reeking” floodwater samples from a ditch after 2018’s Hurricane Florence. In Emanuel’s retelling, a nearby landowner — a white farmer who uses poultry waste as fertilizer — threatens to shoot Emanuel. The sampling, the man believes, would threaten his livelihood, which is wrapped up in North Carolina’s extractive animal farming industry — a system of giant, polluting “concentrated animal feed operations” overwhelmingly owned and operated by white people, and exposing mainly racial minorities to dirty air and water. They are a sharp contrast to the small backyard farms and truck crops grown by Emanuel’s aunties and uncles back in Robeson County a generation ago. As the man holds his gun and lectures about environmental monitoring, Emanuel reflects silently that they are standing on his ancestors’ land. Ever the researcher, he later finds deed books from around the Revolutionary War showing Emanuels once owned more than a hundred acres of land in the vicinity. Still, he holds a wry sympathy for the man, who, he notes, is worried that environmental data will jeopardize his way of life in a place his family has lived for generations.
Eastern North Carolina is a landscape of sandy fields interwoven with lush riverways and swamplands, shaded by knobby-kneed bald cypress trees and soaked with gently-moving waterways the deep brown of “richly steeped tea,” Emanuel writes. In addition to water, the region oozes history: It includes Warren County, known as the birthplace of the environmental justice movement, where local and national civil rights leaders, protesting North Carolina’s decision to dump toxic, PCB-laden soil in a new landfill in a predominantly-Black community, coined the term “environmental racism.” It’s also the mythological birthplace of English colonialism, Roanoke Island. On the Swamp draws a through line from early colonization of the continent to ongoing fights against environmental racism and for climate justice, with detailed stops along the way: Emanuel’s meticulous research illustrates how the white supremacism that settlers used to justify colonialism still harms marginalized communities — both directly, through polluting industries, and indirectly, through climate change — today.
With convoluted waterways accessible only by small boats, and hidden hillocks of high ground where people could camp and grow crops, the swamplands of eastern North Carolina protected Emanuel’s ancestors, along with many other Indigenous peoples, from genocide and enslavement by settlers. Today, with climate change alternately drying out swamplands or flooding them with polluted water from swine and poultry operations, it’s the swamps that need protection, both as a geographic place, and an idea of home. The Lumbee nation is the largest Indigenous nation in the eastern United States, but because the Lumbee Tribe gained only limited federal recognition during the 1950s Termination Era, its sovereignty is still challenged by the federal government and other Indigenous nations. Today, federal and state governments have no legal obligation to consult with the Lumbee Tribe when permitting industry or development, although the federal government does with Indigenous nations that have full federal recognition, and many industrial projects get built in Robeson County.
In writing that’s both affectionate and candid, On the Swamp is a warning about, and a celebration of, eastern North Carolina. Though the region seems besieged by environmental threats, Indigenous nations including the Lumbee are fighting for anticolonial climate justice.
Grist recently spoke with Emanuel about On the Swamp.
This interview has been edited for clarity and length.
Q. What motivated you to write this book?
A. Many years ago, I thought that I wanted to write a feel-good book about celebrating the Lumbee River and the Lumbee Tribe’s connection with it, and talking about all the reasons why it’s beautiful, and amazing, and important to us. So I thought that I would write this essentially nature story, right? But as my work evolved, and as I started thinking more critically about what I actually should be writing, I realized that I couldn’t tell that love story about the river without talking about difficult issues around pollution, climate change, and sustainability, and broader themes of environmental justice and Indigenous rights.
Q. Could you tell me about your connection to place?
A. I have a relationship to Robeson County that’s complicated by the fact that my family lived in Charlotte, and I went to school in Charlotte, and we went to church in Charlotte. But two weekends every month, and every major holiday, we were in Robeson County. And so I’m an insider, but I’m also not an insider. I’ve got a different lens through which I look at Robeson County because of my urban upbringing, but it doesn’t diminish the love that I have for that place, and it doesn’t keep me from calling it my home. I’ve always called it home. Charlotte was the place where we stayed. And Robeson County was home.
I can’t see the Lumbee River without thinking about the fact that it is physically integrating all of these different landscapes that I care about, [and] a truly beautiful place.
Q. In 2020, after years of protests and legal battles, Dominion Energy and Duke Energy canceled the Atlantic Coast pipeline, which would have carried natural gas 600 miles from West Virginia to Robeson County. In On the Swamp, you note that a quarter of Native Americans in North Carolina lived along the proposed route of the Atlantic Coast Pipeline. What was the meaning of the Atlantic Coast pipeline project for Lumbee people?
A. That was an issue very few Lumbee people paid attention to, until they saw the broader context to the project and realized that such an outsized portion of the people who would be affected by the construction and operation of that pipeline were not only Native American, but were specifically Lumbee. I think that’s what generated a lot of outrage, because for better or for worse, we’re used to being treated like a sacrifice zone.
The Atlantic Coast pipeline gave us an easy way to zoom out and ask questions like, “OK, who is going to be affected by this project? Who’s making money off of this project?”
It was also a way to engage with larger questions about things like energy policy in the face of climate change and greenhouse gas emissions. [It] brought up philosophical questions of how we feel about the continued use of fossil fuels and the investment in brand new fossil fuel infrastructure that’s going to last 30, 40, or 50 years, at a time when everybody knows we shouldn’t be doing that.
Q. At the end of the day, the Atlantic Coast pipeline didn’t happen. What do you think is the main reason?
A. The collective resistance of all of these organizations — tribal nations, committed individuals, grassroots organizations — was enough to stall this project, until the developers realized that they had fallen into the Concorde fallacy. Basically, they got to the point where they realized that spending more money was not going to get them out of the hole they had dug in terms of opposition to this project.
But as long as [developers] hold on to those [property] easements, there’s certainly a threat of future development.
Q. You write that people can physically stay on their ancestral land and still have the place taken away by climate change, or by development projects. Can you talk a little bit about still having the land but somehow losing the place?
A. The place is not a set of geographic coordinates. It’s an integration of all the natural and built aspects of the environment. And so climate change, deforestation, these other types of industrialized activities, they have the potential to sweep that place out from under you, like having the rug pulled out. All of the things that make a set of geographic coordinates a beloved place can become unraveled, by these unsustainable processes of climate change and unsustainable development. I think that the case studies in [On the Swamp] show some of the specific ways that that can happen.
Q. Could you talk about your experiences as a researcher going out in the field, navigating modern land ownership systems, and how that connects to climate change?
A. I don’t know if it’s fair to say that I have to bite my tongue a lot, but I kind of feel that way. When I hear people talk about their ownership of our ancestral lands — I’m a mix of an optimist and a realist, and I understand that we’re not going to turn back the clock. And frankly, I’m not sure I want to, because Lumbee people are ourselves a product of colonial conflict, and we wouldn’t exist as the distinct nation that we are today, if it were not for the colonial violence that we survived. We might exist as our ancestral nations and communities, but we definitely wouldn’t be Lumbee people. So this is a complicated issue for me.
When we think about the front lines of climate change, we don’t often think about Robeson County, North Carolina. But because our community is so attuned to that specific place, we’re not going to pick up and move if the summers get too hot, or if the droughts are too severe. That’s not an option for us. So I think that some of the urgency that I feel is not too different from the urgency that you hear from other [Indigenous] people who are similarly situated on the front lines of climate change.
Q. Something else that you make a really strong point about in this book is that something can be a “solution” to climate change, but not sustainable, such as energy companies trying to capture methane at giant hog farms in Robeson County. How should people think about climate solutions, in order to also take into account their negatives?
A. The reason why people latch onto this swine biogas capture scheme is if you simply run the numbers, based on the methane and the carbon dioxide budgets, it looks pretty good.
But a swine facility is a lot more than just a source of methane to the atmosphere, right? It’s all these other things in terms of water pollution, and aerosols, and even things like labor issues and animal rights. There are all these other things that are attached to that kind of facility. If you make a decision that means that facility will persist for decades into the future operating basically as-is, that has serious implications for specific people who live nearby, and for society more broadly. We don’t tend to think through all those contingencies when we make decisions about greenhouse gas budgets.
Q. What are some ways that the Lumbee tribe is proactively trying to adapt to climate change?
A. Climate change is not an explicit motivation [for the Lumbee Tribe]. If you go and read on the Lumbee Tribe’s housing programs website, I don’t think you’re going to find any rationale that says, “We’re [building housing] to address climate change.” But they are.
Getting people into higher-quality, well-insulated and energy-efficient houses is a big deal when it comes to addressing climate change, because we have a lot of people who live in mobile homes, and those are some of the most poorly insulated and least efficient places that you could be. And maybe 40 years ago, when our extreme summer heat wasn’t so bad, that wasn’t such a huge deal. But it’s a huge deal now.
Q. What is the connection between colonialism and climate change for eastern North Carolina, and why is drawing that line necessary?
A. The one sentence answer is, “You reap what you sow.”
The longer answer is, the beginning of making things right is telling the truth about how things became wrong in the first place. And so I really want this book to start conversations on solving these issues. We really can’t solve them in meaningful ways unless we not only acknowledge, but also fully understand, how we got to this point.
North Carolina
Disputes grow between NC Bar, legislative committee tasked with reforming it
A North Carolina legislative committee is drawing passionate support — and criticism — as it pushes forward with recommendations to inject more secrecy and politics into a group tasked with disciplining lawyers across the state.
The committee plans to meet again this week, fresh off a dramatic hearing Tuesday, during which members of the committee sniped at one another, at least one appeared to have had no idea they’d be asked to vote on one particularly contentious item, and security had to forcibly eject a former state lawmaker who had refused to stop yelling accusations from a podium.
The target of that speaker, as well as the committee he was addressing: the North Carolina State Bar, a regulatory board in charge of licensing and disciplining North Carolina’s lawyers.
It’s the central focus of the State Bar Grievance Review Committee, which has tussled with the Bar and its supporters in the state’s legal community as it has sought to investigate allegations of cancel culture against politically outspoken lawyers and as it has recommended other reforms or demanded political inquisitions.
The committee, created in 2024, is a rarity in North Carolina: It consists of zero members of the state legislature. It’s led by Larry Shaheen and former state Sen. Woody White, two GOP insiders close with Republican state Senate leader Phil Berger. It can’t make changes on its own but can recommend them to the state legislature for approval.
Some previous suggestions by the committee have won broad and bipartisan approval at the state legislature, such as limiting who can report lawyers to the Bar.
But its most recent proposals — including making lawyer discipline a more secretive process, controlled entirely by political appointees — has raised concerns inside the Bar, as well as with some of the lawyers who make a living fighting the Bar on behalf of their clients.
Some of the new changes Shaheen and others on the committee are backing would ban non-lawyers from being involved in hearings of the Bar’s Disciplinary Hearing Commission, which is tasked with deciding whether — and how harshly — to crack down on lawyers accused of things such as stealing clients’ money, sleeping with clients or abusing drugs or alcohol.
The committee also wants to staff the Disciplinary Hearing Commission entirely with political appointees — almost all of them Republicans — and decrease transparency in the process, making more details confidential.
The Bar has deep reservations about those and other proposed changes, saying they’ll harm its goal of protecting members of the public from predatory or simply bad lawyers. The committee has not asked for the Bar’s input during this process, and relations between the two groups have become strained.
State Bar Executive Director Peter Bolac told WRAL he questions the need for these changes, which he said appear to have been put together “without broader input or a comprehensive understanding of the State Bar’s work.”
Bolac was at the most recent hearing on the changes, but he wasn’t invited to speak — whether to provide his own presentation, or to answer questions and concerns. He told WRAL the committee should attempt to learn how the Bar works, first, before trying to change it.
“Without a clear and shared understanding of how the current system functions, it is difficult to engage in a meaningful discussion about potential improvements,” Bolac said. “Nevertheless, we remain willing to participate in thoughtful, good-faith dialogue aimed at strengthening the system.”
Shaheen says he knows firsthand how the process works, having served on Disciplinary Hearing Commission he and his committee are now targeting. And he sees it as his mission to drastically change the way it operates, saying he has lost friends because of his association with it. “I have several lawyers, who have been long term friends of mine, who have come to me and, because of some of the things said to them, feel like I’m the devil,” Shaheen said.
‘Radical changes’
The committee’s most recent meeting was just the latest in the committee’s years-long attempt to make reforms to the Bar.
Alan Schneider, who has represented more lawyers facing disciplinary hearings than perhaps anyone else in North Carolina, often finds himself at odds with the Bar. He previously gave a formal presentation to this same committee on suggestions to reform it.
But he says the latest suggestions, to ramp up the political appointments, go too far.
“There were problems in the past in terms of maybe old cases weren’t heard as quickly as they could,” Schneider said. “But the changes were made. The State Bar heard, and the State Bar has acted. What I’d like this panel to understand is the necessity for all these radical changes. I believe it is unnecessary.”
White and Shaheen said the changes are necessary. Shaheen said increasing political control over the Bar would increase accountability, by making members of the Bar answer to politicians who ultimately answer to the people.
Under the new proposal, 19 of its 26 members would be chosen by various Republican politicians and the remaining seven would be chosen by Democratic Gov. Josh Stein.
“To have more folks appointed by public officials, we want to create more accountability, to make sure that the process is not weaponized against attorneys,” Shaheen said at the committee’s meeting on Tuesday.
White defended the push for less transparency.
“Nowadays when you can weaponize allegations in a nanosecond and publish them, put them out in a political context … that is unfair, for a lawyer to be accused of something before he or she is convicted of it,” he said.
‘Such sweeping reforms’
The committee is set to meet again Wednesday. The committee hadn’t released information on what issues it plans to discuss, but it’s expected to be closely watched by the state’s legal community.
The relative lack of public notice on what this committee is considering also raised the ire of interested parties at last week’s meeting.
Jane Meyer, a Tharrington Smith attorney in Raleigh who also chairs the Bar’s disciplinary group, questioned why the proposals voted on Tuesday were only made public a few days beforehand, and with no opportunity for the Bar — or the general public — to respond.
White had originally attempted pushing through a vote Tuesday without allowing members of the public to speak. But he relented after Andrew Heath, a conservative lobbyist who serves on the committee, urged him to allow Meyer and other members of the public to have two minutes each to give brief comments.
“That troubles me — that such sweeping reforms are being considered without much study, and without asking for input,” Meyer told the committee.
Given the sweeping nature of their recommendations, Wake County District Attorney Colon Willoughby suggested the committee should “do a little bit more study and maybe get a little bit more information.”
Willoughby specifically criticized the proposal to make it harder for members of the public to learn about accusations against attorneys.
“We should not be trying to restrict and make things more confidential,” he said. “We should make it more open. The public needs to have quicker and more complete access. I think people find their lawyers now, not from their Sunday school class or their bowling league or their Lions Club, but through the internet searches. They want information.”
They were among the passionate speakers at the hearing, but perhaps not the most passionate.
Two-plus hours into its most recent hearing on Tuesday, former state Rep. Edwin Hardy had his mic cut off and then was escorted out of the room by security. He was several minutes into speaking during the open public comment period as his comments turned into a rant involving former President Barack Obama, the late Gov. Jim Hunt, allegations of political favoritism, cocaine usage and more.
Hardy, a Republican who used to represent Beaufort County in the state House, was the only one ejected — even though he was also one of the few speakers who appeared to support the committee’s goal of major overhauls to the Bar. His comments were in line with the allegations White, Shaheen and others have been claiming for years about cancel culture.
“I got very vocal online because Obama won,” Hardy told the committee. “… Well guess what: I was very vocal, and the day after Obama won reelection, I got a phone call and the Bar told me I had been randomly picked for an audit.”
State records show that that 2012 audit found Hardy had been using poor accounting practices with trust accounts where he held onto money for clients — including taking actions that “allowed entrusted funds to be disbursed in a manner not authorized by or for the benefit of the client.”
However, the Bar found he didn’t steal any of the money, and that there wasn’t any evidence of his clients being harmed by his trust fund missteps. It allowed him to continue practicing law.
North Carolina
2 Candidates Emerge in NC State’s Coaching Search
RALEIGH — NC State replaced Kevin Keatts with Will Wade in March 2025, introducing him 368 days ago in front of the Wolfpack community at Reynolds Coliseum. A little over a year later, Wade decided to leave his new program to return to LSU, the school that fired him for cause in 2022, beginning a long journey back to Power Four basketball.
Now, athletic director Boo Corrigan and the rest of the NC State administration must find a new leader for the men’s basketball program. To make matters more complicated, they won’t have a lot of time to do so, as the new head coach needs to be in place firmly before April 7, the day the transfer portal opens. However, early noise indicates the group in charge has eyes on two candidates.
Who are the candidates?
According to multiple reports, Corrigan and other power brokers at NC State zeroed in on Saint Louis head coach Josh Schertz and Tennessee associate head coach Justin Gainey as the primary two candidates for the opening. Both names were expected to be in the mix as soon as the Wade exit became more and more likely, although Corrigan shared no specific names during his Thursday press conference.
The NC State University Board of Trustees hosted an emergency meeting on Friday, with the primary subject being Wade’s buyout negotiation. Of course, speculation began quickly that there were discussions about the next coach of the Wolfpack, but that’s been confirmed not to be the case in the behind-closed-doors meeting for the board.
NC State Board of Trustees emergency meeting related to change in term of Will Wade’s buyout (from $5M to $4M, as AD Boo Corrigan said yesterday) not a new coach hire. Quickly went into closed session. No public business.
— Brian Murphy (@murphsturph) March 27, 2026
Even so, it seems as though NC State plans on making a strong push for Schertz first, despite his status as head coach at Saint Louis still and his recent agreement to a contract extension. That certainly makes things more complicated, but hiring Schertz would allow NC State to maintain any sort of positive momentum established by Wade and his regime in Raleigh. Still, Corrigan isn’t totally committed to a sitting head coach.
“I don’t think it has to be a sitting head coach at this point,” Corrigan said. “I think we want to find someone that knows how to coach and is a great coach, and has the ability to connect with people, both internal and external, with the players, be able to recruit. You have to be a good recruiter in this day and age.”
NC State will move as quickly as it possibly can, with Gainey and Schertz atop the list. That doesn’t rule out other options entirely, but all signs point to one of them being the most likely to be the next coach of the Wolfpack, ending the Will Wade era as quickly as it started.
North Carolina
NC offshore wind project canceled as $1B deal shifts investment to fossil fuels
A planned offshore wind project off North Carolina’s coast that could have powered roughly 300,000 homes has been scrapped after the federal government agreed to spend nearly $1 billion to halt its development, a decision that is drawing sharp reactions and raising questions about future energy costs in the state.
Under the agreement, the French energy company TotalEnergies will be reimbursed for leases it purchased in federal waters near Bald Head Island. In exchange, the company will redirect that investment into oil and natural gas projects, including liquefied natural gas (LNG) production.
The move comes as electricity demand in North Carolina and across the Southeast is rising, driven by population growth and the rapid expansion of energy-intensive data centers.
Energy analysts say removing a major potential source of power from the pipeline could have lasting implications.
“I think folks are trying to figure out how to reconcile this with the fact that we do need more electrons on the grid,” said Katharine Kollins, president of the Southeastern Wind Coalition. “Every state right now is looking at how we can develop more energy, not how we should be taking options off the table.”
The canceled project, known as Carolina Long Bay, was one of two offshore wind developments TotalEnergies had planned along the East Coast. The North Carolina portion alone would have generated about 1,300 megawatts of electricity and brought significant economic development to the region.
State leaders were quick to criticize the decision. In a post on X, Gov. Josh Stein said the Trump administration is “spending nearly $1 billion in taxpayer money to pay off a company to stop investments in the clean energy we need,” calling it “a terrible deal for the people of North Carolina and our country.”
The Interior Department, which negotiated the agreement, defended the move, saying offshore wind projects are too costly and unreliable to meet the nation’s energy needs. In a statement, officials said redirecting investment toward natural gas would provide “affordable, reliable and secure energy” while strengthening grid stability.
The debate reflects a broader divide over how to meet growing electricity demand while keeping costs down.
Offshore wind projects typically require high upfront investment but have no fuel costs once operational. Fossil fuel plants rely on fuel that can fluctuate in price.
“Using a billion dollars of taxpayer money to remove an option for North Carolina and then require that company to invest in LNG just doesn’t feel right,” Kollins said.
She and other advocates argue that offshore wind could help stabilize energy prices over time by diversifying the state’s power mix, particularly during periods of high demand or fuel volatility.
The federal government and industry leaders backing the deal say natural gas offers a more dependable source of power, especially as the grid faces increasing strain.
Part of that shift now points to LNG, which is traded on a global market. That means prices can rise or fall based on international demand, geopolitical tensions and export levels — dynamics that do not affect wind energy.
The cancellation also highlights uncertainty around offshore wind development in North Carolina. Duke Energy, the state’s largest utility, holds a neighboring lease in the same area but paused development last year as it reevaluated costs and policy conditions.
As state regulators and utilities map out how to meet future demand, the loss of Carolina Long Bay narrows the range of options.
For residents, the stakes may ultimately show up in monthly bills.
“When we limit our choices,” Kollins said, “we limit our ability to control costs.”
-
Sports1 week agoIOC addresses execution of 19-year-old Iranian wrestler Saleh Mohammadi
-
New Mexico7 days agoClovis shooting leaves one dead, four injured
-
Miami, FL3 days agoJannik Sinner’s Girlfriend Laila Hasanovic Stuns in Ab-Revealing Post Amid Miami Open
-
Tennessee6 days agoTennessee Police Investigating Alleged Assault Involving ‘Reacher’ Star Alan Ritchson
-
Minneapolis, MN3 days agoBoy who shielded classmate during school shooting receives Medal of Honor
-
Technology7 days agoYouTube job scam text: How to spot it fast
-
Science1 week agoRecord Heat Meets a Major Snow Drought Across the West
-
Politics1 week agoSchumer gambit fails as DHS shutdown hits 36 days and airport lines grow