One of Sandy Saeturn’s earliest memories of growing up in Richmond, CA, is the frightening scene she walked into as a kindergartener heading to recess. She recalls, “the smoke cloud covered the whole playground. I remember feeling scared because the teachers were in panic, shouting to go directly to our classes. We were given tissue paper to put over our nose and mouths and got into buses and drove around Richmond until it was “safe” to return.” 

One of Sandy Saeturn’s earliest memories of growing up in Richmond, CA, is the frightening scene she walked into as a kindergartener heading to recess. She recalls, “the smoke cloud covered the whole playground. I remember feeling scared because the teachers were in panic, shouting to go directly to our classes. We were given tissue paper to put over our nose and mouths and got into buses and drove around Richmond until it was “safe” to return.” 

The year was 1989, and the bus ride was her school’s attempt to get children a safe distance from the plume of toxic gases released by an explosion at the Chevron oil refinery, which sits so close to Peres Elementary that you can see its brown cylindrical buildings through the classroom windows. 

It wouldn’t be her last memory of an accident at the refinery. Ask any longtime resident and they will tell you that growing up in Richmond it was not unusual to hear and smell the burning refinery, develop a rash or a cough, head to the hospital to get medical treatment, and receive a $100 check from Chevron.

Then in 2012 the refinery exploded, producing a cloud of burning crude oil visible for miles: a series of refinery fires burned through the night injuring 19 refinery workers, and causing 15,000 residents to seek medical treatment. The communities closest to the refinery are in the 99th percentile for asthma in the state. For decades, Chevron, which opened its refinery before the city incorporated, ran the city like a company town, stacking the city council and mayoral offices, and using its leverage as a substantial part of the city’s tax base to intimidate anyone who dared challenge its right to poison the local population with impunity.

The year was 1989, and the bus ride was her school’s attempt to get children a safe distance from the plume of toxic gases released by an explosion at the Chevron oil refinery, which sits so close to Peres Elementary that you can see its brown cylindrical buildings through the classroom windows. 

It wouldn’t be her last memory of an accident at the refinery. Ask any longtime resident and they will tell you that growing up in Richmond it was not unusual to hear and smell the burning refinery, develop a rash or a cough, head to the hospital to get medical treatment, and receive a $100 check from Chevron.

Then in 2012 the refinery exploded, producing a cloud of burning crude oil visible for miles: a series of refinery fires burned through the night injuring 19 refinery workers, and causing 15,000 residents to seek medical treatment. The communities closest to the refinery are in the 99th percentile for asthma in the state. For decades, Chevron, which opened its refinery before the city incorporated, ran the city like a company town, stacking the city council and mayoral offices, and using its leverage as a substantial part of the city’s tax base to intimidate anyone who dared challenge its right to poison the local population with impunity.

A group of over twenty people are gathered in chairs in a conference room. They are holding signs that read, “Invest in our future” and “Make polluters pay.”

At the May 2024 Richmond City Council meeting. Photo credit: Denny Khamphantong

Some of the kids on the bus with Sandy that day moved away to places with cleaner air. Others stayed and protected themselves from the pollution as best they could, by stuffing wet towels under their doors and taping plastic over their windows when things got bad. A few, like Sandy, decided to fight.

The popular social justice refrain “They tried to bury us. They didn’t know we were seeds[1]”, describes Sandy to a T. Sandy, the kindergartener who walked out into a smoke-filled playground, grew up to be one of the most powerful environmental justice organizers in the U.S. She scored a victory against Chevron that would go down as one of the biggest against a refinery in the history of the country. Her journey is a testament to why community organizing is essential to winning environmental and climate justice, and an argument for why funders should resource it. 

Born into a Thai refugee camp before immigrating to the U.S. as a three-month-old, Sandy comes from a large, Mien family that is active in the Richmond community. By 16 she was a volunteer youth member with the local environmental justice organization Asian Pacific Environmental Network (APEN). She soon joined the staff as a youth organizer and eventually became the political director. Organizing is slow, patient, and collective work. For decades, Sandy and APEN (& the 501c4 APEN Action) put their shoulder to the wheel of change alongside other organizations in Richmond, engaging voters to successfully flip mayoral and city council seats from industry stooges to a progressive majority. The result was a strong grassroots base of community members with the power to push for change.  

Some of the kids on the bus with Sandy that day moved away to places with cleaner air. Others stayed and protected themselves from the pollution as best they could, by stuffing wet towels under their doors and taping plastic over their windows when things got bad. A few, like Sandy, decided to fight.

The popular social justice refrain “They tried to bury us. They didn’t know we were seeds[1]”, describes Sandy to a T. Sandy, the kindergartener who walked out into a smoke-filled playground, grew up to be one of the most powerful environmental justice organizers in the U.S. She scored a victory against Chevron that would go down as one of the biggest against a refinery in the history of the country. Her journey is a testament to why community organizing is essential to winning environmental and climate justice, and an argument for why funders should resource it. 

Born into a Thai refugee camp before immigrating to the U.S. as a three-month-old, Sandy comes from a large, Mien family that is active in the Richmond community. By 16 she was a volunteer youth member with the local environmental justice organization Asian Pacific Environmental Network (APEN). She soon joined the staff as a youth organizer and eventually became the political director. Organizing is slow, patient, and collective work. For decades, Sandy and APEN (& the 501c4 APEN Action) put their shoulder to the wheel of change alongside other organizations in Richmond, engaging voters to successfully flip mayoral and city council seats from industry stooges to a progressive majority. The result was a strong grassroots base of community members with the power to push for change.  

An older Asian American woman leans over a raised garden bed. She is looking down at the dirt and holding a plant in one hand and a trowel in another.

Garden at the Asian Pacific Environmental Network (APEN) office. Photo credit: Denny Khamphantong

Achieving a new Richmond that doesn’t rely on Chevron for its tax base requires the expensive task of replacing existing jobs and revenue with industries that don’t poison the community. Who should pay that cost? In 2024, APEN Action and Communities for Better Environment Action (CBE Action) answered that question: Make the polluter pay.[2] They spearheaded the Polluter Pay campaign to put an initiative on the ballot that would tax Chevron $1 for every barrel of crude oil that came through the refinery, generating up to $90M per year for the city of Richmond’s general fund. They were soon joined by SEIU 1021 to anchor the effort[3]. 

The coalition chose Sandy as their Campaign Manager. The campaign was a lightning rod.

Achieving a new Richmond that doesn’t rely on Chevron for its tax base requires the expensive task of replacing existing jobs and revenue with industries that don’t poison the community. Who should pay that cost? In 2024, APEN Action and Communities for Better Environment Action (CBE Action) answered that question: Make the polluter pay.[2] They spearheaded the Polluter Pay campaign to put an initiative on the ballot that would tax Chevron $1 for every barrel of crude oil that came through the refinery, generating up to $90M per year for the city of Richmond’s general fund. They were soon joined by SEIU 1021 to anchor the effort[3]. 

The coalition chose Sandy as their Campaign Manager. The campaign was a lightning rod.

On the day of the vote to add the measure to the ballot, hundreds of people crowded into the city council chambers, its overflow auditorium, and the plaza outside.

On the day of the vote to add the measure to the ballot, hundreds of people crowded into the city council chambers, its overflow auditorium, and the plaza outside.

Late into the night, pediatricians and representatives from the teachers union testified about the alarming numbers of sick kids. Community members told stories of their visits to the ER. Chevron workers, 95% of whom live outside of the city, testified vehemently against the measure, saying it would hurt jobs.

The debate was contentious, but the campaign prevailed and the council allowed the measure onto the November 2024 ballot. Then, an oil industry group sued. Weighing the possibility of protracted legal battles that could delay access to the funds needed to begin a just transition, the city council moved Chevron to settle for $550 million over 10 years, one of the largest payouts from an oil refinery in the U.S. 

That figure only became possible through strong organizing—a proactive campaign with a real threat to Big Oil’s profits on the other end. Fresh off the victory,  organizers with APEN and CBE immediately distilled their learnings in a campaign playbook for other communities. Says Kerry, Attorney for the Richmond Team at CBE Action, “You don’t cough up a half a billion dollars if you’re not terrified of the $4 billion on the other side of a ballot initiative win. Chevron’s initial offer was $300 million, so the fact that the city council was able to nearly double that meant that they knew that we had the public support to win handily in November.” 

Late into the night, pediatricians and representatives from the teachers union testified about the alarming numbers of sick kids. Community members told stories of their visits to the ER. Chevron workers, 95% of whom live outside of the city, testified vehemently against the measure, saying it would hurt jobs.

The debate was contentious, but the campaign prevailed and the council allowed the measure onto the November 2024 ballot. Then, an oil industry group sued. Weighing the possibility of protracted legal battles that could delay access to the funds needed to begin a just transition, the city council moved Chevron to settle for $550 million over 10 years, one of the largest payouts from an oil refinery in the U.S. 

That figure only became possible through strong organizing—a proactive campaign with a real threat to Big Oil’s profits on the other end. Fresh off the victory,  organizers with APEN and CBE immediately distilled their learnings in a campaign playbook for other communities. Says Kerry, Attorney for the Richmond Team at CBE Action, “You don’t cough up a half a billion dollars if you’re not terrified of the $4 billion on the other side of a ballot initiative win. Chevron’s initial offer was $300 million, so the fact that the city council was able to nearly double that meant that they knew that we had the public support to win handily in November.” 

Moreover, notes Kerry, “There is nothing stopping every refinery community in California from copy and pasting this,” which proved correct in August of 2026 when the city of Carson won a similar settlement for $370 million, with organizers crediting the Richmond Polluters Pay campaign as their template.

Moreover, notes Kerry, “There is nothing stopping every refinery community in California from copy and pasting this,” which proved correct in August of 2026 when the city of Carson won a similar settlement for $370 million, with organizers crediting the Richmond Polluters Pay campaign as their template.

For any funder asking why organizing groups, like the ones that trained Sandy, should be part of their portfolios to advance environmental, climate, and social justice, and why these groups should be invested in with long-term, general operating support, Sandy’s story provides an answer: because this is how we score big wins. This is how we make bold and necessary leaps, rather than timid and insufficient steps, towards cities that are free of the health and climate effects of fossil fuels. And this is how we give the next generation of kindergarten students in places like Richmond, sweeter first memories of their hometowns, clean air and water, and a brighter future.

By: Vanessa Priya Daniel, Author/Donor Advisor

Learn more about APEN Action.

For any funder asking why organizing groups, like the ones that trained Sandy, should be part of their portfolios to advance environmental, climate, and social justice, and why these groups should be invested in with long-term, general operating support, Sandy’s story provides an answer: because this is how we score big wins. This is how we make bold and necessary leaps, rather than timid and insufficient steps, towards cities that are free of the health and climate effects of fossil fuels. And this is how we give the next generation of kindergarten students in places like Richmond, sweeter first memories of their hometowns, clean air and water, and a brighter future.

By: Vanessa Priya Daniel, Author/Donor Advisor

Learn more about APEN Action.

[1]First penned by the gay Greek poet Dinos Christianopoulous, and later popularized by the Zapatistas and other Indigenous freedom movements in the Americas.

[2] The goal, says APEN Action’s Richmond Organizing Director, Megan Zapanta, “was to use the money to build a resilient future for Richmond that isn’t reliant on Chevron: remediation to clean up toxic land, healthcare, low to no carbon public transit, support for small businesses, co-ops, and the scaling of non-polluting industries.” 

[3] More support followed from Ace Action and the Richmond Progressive Alliance, along with sponsorships from the United Teachers of Richmond, and the International Association of Firefighters Local 188, among others.

[1]First penned by the gay Greek poet Dinos Christianopoulous, and later popularized by the Zapatistas and other Indigenous freedom movements in the Americas.

[2] The goal, says APEN Action’s Richmond Organizing Director, Megan Zapanta, “was to use the money to build a resilient future for Richmond that isn’t reliant on Chevron: remediation to clean up toxic land, healthcare, low to no carbon public transit, support for small businesses, co-ops, and the scaling of non-polluting industries.” 

[3] More support followed from Ace Action and the Richmond Progressive Alliance, along with sponsorships from the United Teachers of Richmond, and the International Association of Firefighters Local 188, among others.

More Stories

Environmental Justice
Resourcing Collective

Environmental Justice
Resourcing Collective

Convened and supported by the Kataly Foundation.

Contact Us