The story of the first Earth Day always has struck me as inspiring, but now it seems even more vital. For the first time since the rise of the environmental movement, all of the levers of power in Washington are controlled by officials skeptical of government regulation. Protecting the environment will require extraordinary effort, and Earth Day 1970 gives hope that we can rise to the occasion. It is both an example of a rare kind of political leadership and a reminder of the power of engaged citizens.
The basic facts still amaze me. In September 1969, Wisconsin Senator Gaylord Nelson vowed to organize a nationwide environmental teach-in in spring 1970. The resulting event—the first Earth Day—was far bigger than the biggest civil-rights march or antiwar demonstration or woman’s liberation protest in the 1960s. Roughly 1,500 colleges and 10,000 schools held environmental teach-ins. Earth Day activities also took place in churches and temples, in city parks, and in front of corporate and government buildings. Though the largest crowds gathered on April 22, many institutions and communities celebrated for a week, not just a day. In Birmingham, Alabama, Earth Day was part of Right to Live Week. Cleveland, Ohio organized Crisis in the Environment Week. Across the United States, millions of people took part.
The sheer scale of Earth Day became the big news. Though Americans had begun to address many environmental problems before 1970, no one used the phrase “environmental movement” before the planning for Earth Day began. Earth Day gave Americans a sense that the environment had become a powerful cause. Politicians took notice, and so did the media.
Yet the essential Earth Day story is about civic engagement. Senator Nelson found a way to join the institutional authority of Washington with the energy of the grassroots. That fusion allowed Earth Day to build a new eco-infrastructure—government agencies, environmental-studies programs, environmental beats at newspapers, and non-profit organizations.
Nelson had tried for years to raise concern in Congress about environmental issues. His “aha” moment finally came when he read an article about the history of Vietnam War teach-ins. The antiwar teach-ins had been catalysts for change. They had pushed students and faculty to think more clearly, and then to act. An environmental teach-in, Nelson thought, would be even more likely to lead to action.
But Nelson was a 53-year-old pillar of the Establishment, not a young activist. Could a senator spark a nationwide demonstration? Nelson sought the advice of a veteran Democratic Party operative, Fred Dutton, who outlined a Washington-directed operation. He suggested that Nelson pick potential organizers—students, faculty members, and community residents—at 40 institutions. Nelson rejected that recommendation. He concluded that the teach-in could not be an extension of his will. Though he had conceived the idea, he did not try to control the event. Instead, Nelson allowed many others to take ownership of the teach-in.