The climate crisis demands urgent action— companies can’t focus just on profits and advocates need to do more than just tout policies. Rev. Lennox Yearwood, Jr., CEO of Hip Hop Caucus, has made it his mission to bridge the worlds of culture, policy, and activism. In a recent interview, he used a Black history reference to encapsulate his work: “Down by the Riverside” wasn’t just a gospel song; it was a roadmap to freedom for enslaved people. “Hip-hop,” he explained, “is our roadmap now—for addressing the climate crisis.” His innovative approach has inspired a new generation of activists and caught the attention of policymakers and business leaders alike. In 2023, Forbes recognized his impact by naming him to its inaugural Sustainability Leaders list. Yearwood is using his platform to connect the dots between systemic inequality, climate change, and cultural empowerment.
Early Influences: Academic Advocacy Inspires Climate Action
Rev. Yearwood’s path to leadership began with a foundation in activism and education. Born in Shreveport, Louisiana, to parents deeply invested in social justice, Yearwood grew up steeped in the values of liberation and equity. His father, a Dean of African American Studies, and his mother, a psychologist, instilled in him the importance of both knowledge and action. “My parents taught me to fight for liberation and education,” Yearwood shared. “They showed me the power of breaking silos and connecting causes—whether it’s civil rights, environmental justice, or economic equality.”
These lessons shaped his career aspirations. “I was on track to earn a Ph.D.,” he said, referencing his academic journey. “But life took me in a different direction. I realized I could make an impact outside academia, though that love for education and learning never left me.” He ended up serving as an Air Force Reserve chaplain, a role that deeply influenced his advocacy work. “As a chaplain, I witnessed the intersection of human suffering and resilience,” he explained. “It made me see how interconnected issues like the environment and social justice are. You can’t address one without the other.”
Hip Hop as a Catalyst for Environmental Justice
For Yearwood, hip-hop is more than a genre—it’s a cultural force capable of mobilizing millions. He talks about trying to organize community meetings about topics like gentrification or environmental justice and hardly anyone showed up. He began working with Dr. Ben Chavis a former NAACP President and one of the organizers of the Million Man March. Yearwood says that when Chavis organized events featuring artists like LL Cool J, the turnout was incredible. “People showed up, even if they weren’t initially aware of the event’s purpose because they were fans. I realized that hip-hop was a powerful tool, That’s when I realized the power of hip-hop to bring people together.”
Yearwood describes hip-hop as a “code language” that communicates urgency and truth. “It’s like the spirituals of the Civil Rights Movement,” he explained. “Hip-hop reflects the urgency of the moment, even when the message is raw or uncomfortable. It’s a way to convey that you’re safe here, or that this is something to take seriously.”
The aftermath of Hurricane Katrina in 2005 was a pivotal moment for Yearwood’s activism. Witnessing the devastation of his home state of Louisiana solidified his commitment to environmental justice. “Hurricane Katrina wasn’t just a disaster—it was a wake-up call,” he said. “We saw firsthand how vulnerable communities, especially Black and Brown communities, were left to fend for themselves in the face of climate change.” Katrina’s 20th anniversary in August 2025 serves as a stark reminder of the storm’s lasting impact. “It’s been two decades, and yet the lessons from Katrina are more relevant than ever,” Yearwood emphasized.
Yearwood founded the Hip Hop Caucus in 2004, just before the storm struck. One of its early missions was to get involved in advocated for equitable recovery after Hurricane Katrina. Since, the Caucus has tackled issues ranging from police brutality to voting rights, but environmental justice has become a cornerstone of its mission. In 2023, the organization released Underwater Projects, a short film addressing the impact of climate change on marginalized communities, which was showcased at the Social Justice Now Film Festival.
Calling for Compassion and Collaboration In the Climate Justice Movement
Yearwood’s work often takes him to places like St. James Parish, Louisiana, also known as “Cancer Alley,” where residents have suffered the devastating health consequences of living near petrochemical plants. “The fight for clean air and water isn’t just about policy—it’s about survival,” he emphasized. “Environmental racism is real,” he said. “If you look at maps of pollution, you’ll find that landfills and petrochemical facilities are often placed in Black, Brown, and Indigenous neighborhoods. That’s why we see higher rates of asthma, cancer, and heart disease in these communities.”
He also points out that these issues are not unique to communities traditionally viewed as marginalized. It is important to understand that the impacts of poor resourcing and bad corporate behavior impacts across geographies and political ideologies. Compassion and collaboration are cornerstones of successful advocacy. His work in East Palestine, Ohio—a predominantly white conservative community grappling with the aftermath of a vinyl chloride spill—provides a compelling example of this principle in action.
“I’ve been there wearing my ‘Think 100%’ hat while they wear their MAGA hats,” Yearwood shared. “But I’m here to make sure you’ve got clean air and clean water. And they appreciate that. They actually appreciate when you come in love and when you come in earnest to help them.”
This experience underscores Yearwood’s belief that addressing environmental challenges requires setting aside political differences to focus on shared humanity. In East Palestine, the community didn’t view him as an outsider or a political adversary but as someone committed to their well-being. “It’s about showing up with compassion and offering solutions,” he said. “When you do that, people respond.”
Yearwood acknowledges that the broader EJ movement often falls short in this regard. “There’s a compassion issue in our movement,” he said. “We must do a better job. In many cases, the environmental movement has siloed and even segregated communities.”
He points to disasters like Hurricane Helene as moments when the lack of compassion becomes glaring. “When FEMA funds were running out, and people were only getting $750 to rebuild their lives, the money was still going overseas,” he recalled. “At the same time, as a movement, we were rightly warning about thousand-year hurricanes happening every four years, but we weren’t asking, ‘What about the people who just lived through those hurricanes? What are we doing to restore their lives?’”
For Yearwood, this gap between information and action highlights the need for more holistic approaches. Climate adaptation, he insists, isn’t just about policies; it’s about restoring communities and leading with empathy. “We can’t just focus on the larger macro problem,” he said. “We need to address the micro-level issues too—helping people rebuild, giving them a sense of hope, and ensuring they have access to clean air and water.”
Yearwood urges leaders in the movement to recalibrate their priorities. “Don’t look at who’s from what political party. Instead, ask ‘what do we need to do to solve this problem, whether it’s the larger climate crisis or just pollution in one neighborhood?’” He pointed out that he and the Hip Hop Caucus has petitioned for environmental reforms across multiple administrations, from George W. Bush to Joe Biden. “I’ve been outside every White House, fighting for clean air and water,” he said. “I don’t care if it’s a Democrat or a Republican—I’m going to hold them accountable.”
The Need for Community Voices at Global Climate Forums
For Rev. Lennox Yearwood, the inclusion of marginalized and divested communities in international climate discussions like the Conference of the Parties (COP) is essential. These communities often bear the brunt of climate change while their voices remain largely absent from decision-making spaces. Yearwood sees this as a missed opportunity to create truly comprehensive solutions.
“We must engage in global conversations because the climate crisis is a global issue,” he said. “These forums allow us to share solutions and build a global community. The need for showing up is important for many, many reasons.” He noted the barriers many face in accessing these events, from financial constraints to systemic exclusion. “We’re not doing a good job as far as articulating the concerns of these communities,” he said. “A lot of the ‘white-paper energy’ that we are bringing to these conferences is not working.”
By “white-paper energy,” Yearwood refers to the technical, jargon-heavy approach that often dominates these forums, alienating those most affected by climate change. Instead, he advocates for bringing authentic, lived experiences to the table. “We’re not getting the ‘Fannie Lou Hamer’ moments at these events,” he said, referencing the iconic civil rights activist whose voice galvanized the movement for voting rights.
Yearwood believes these communities should be moved from the periphery to having seats at the decision-making table. “We need voices from vulnerable communities at the table—not at the ‘kiddy table,’ relegated to the sidelines,” he said. Another challenge, according to Yearwood, is that some within the climate movement act as “translators,” controlling access to these spaces and maintaining a gatekeeping dynamic. “I do think there’s a situation where people don’t want to really open the door,” he explained. “They kind of want to maintain that control, instead of letting communities fully participate.”
Looking ahead to COP30 in Brazil next year, Yearwood sees an opportunity to rethink how global climate forums operate. “We need more widespread participation and to move beyond just having people there as spectators,” he said. “If we’re going to create solutions, we need the people most impacted by these issues to help lead the way.”
Yearwood’s vision is one where divested communities are not simply appearing in the climate conversation but are active architects of its solutions. “This isn’t about token inclusion,” he said. “It’s about ensuring that the people who know these challenges best are the ones driving the decisions that will shape their futures.”