Soil and Air Matter

Growing up in Ecuador, I saw firsthand how environmental degradation destroys communities, local economies, and traditional ways of life. I was born in Pujilí, a small Andean city in Ecuador, surrounded by the mountains and rural communities that shape the identity of my homeland. Over time, my family acquired a property in Isinche de Alpamalag, a nearby rural area known for its extremely dry climate and soil damaged by lack of water. What struck me wasn’t just the dryness of the land, but the contrast brought on by climate change.

Motivated by our commitment to climate justice, my family and I decided to transform that dry land. Through reforestation, soil care, and the reintroduction of native plants, we turned an arid space into a green refuge full of life. Today, birds, butterflies, bees, and trees thrive — proof that resilience is possible.

Perhaps the most powerful part of this experience has been the impact on my daughters, who were six and eight years old when we began four years ago. They’ve been involved from the start: planting trees with their own hands, caring for the land, and witnessing the transformation firsthand. They’ve learned to respect nature’s cycles, to understand the value of water, and to feel a deep responsibility for Mother Earth. Watching them grow up with that awareness fills me with hope.

My Career in Environmental Justice

For more than a decade, I worked for the government of Ecuador. I represented my country in negotiations at the United Nations level about climate issues. I also served at the Consulate of Ecuador in Minneapolis on human mobility issues. Now I work on both of these issues as the new director of environmental justice for COPAL. Our work addresses green jobs, pollution reduction, an equitable transition to clean energy, and the root causes of forced migration due to climate change and extractive economies.

Climate migration is happening. Many people, especially in Latin America, are being forced to leave their homes due to droughts, floods, or crop failures. Understanding this is key to building more humane and effective policies.

There are grassroots organizations and cooperatives led by women and people of color that are making a real difference in renewable energy, urban farming, and more. In Minnesota, we need to invest in these community-led models and ensure that green opportunities are accessible to Latino families and other historically excluded communities.

The Value of Sustainable Soil

Soil health is the foundation of both human and planet health. Healthy soil provides better food, sequesters carbon, and retains water — helping to combat climate change. Every home garden can be a small act of environmental justice.

When we talk about healthy soil, we’re referring to much more than just fertile ground for planting. Truly healthy soil is a living ecosystem containing millions of microorganisms — bacteria, fungi, actinomycetes, and protozoa — as well as larger organisms, such as earthworms and nematodes. These organisms break down organic matter, recycle nutrients, improve soil structure, and help plants absorb essential minerals. When we compost kitchen scraps, add dry leaves, or avoid using chemicals, we’re feeding that invisible life that keeps the earth alive.

In Ecuador, this agro-ecological approach has gained strength in regions where Indigenous and peasant cooperatives have promoted the use of compost, biofertilizers, and green manures to regenerate soils and reduce dependence on agrochemicals.

In communities like Zumbahua and Salinas de Guaranda, soil restoration through organic practices has led to improved yields of potatoes, maize, and vegetables, while also protecting water sources and the health of local families. By keeping these organisms alive and active, farmers reduce the need for chemicals and preserve ecological balance.

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Images of transformation from the author’s family land in Ecuador

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How to Support Healthy Soil and Air

The texture, color, and smell of soil offer clues. Healthy soil tends to be loose, dark from organic matter, and has a pleasant, almost sweet smell. Most importantly, it has the ability to regenerate, to filter water, and to support biodiversity. Small changes, like planting native trees, can have lasting and profound effects.

The same goes for air. Every breath we take may carry particles that affect our health. Burning fossil fuels, trash, pesticide sprays, dust from unpaved roads, and smoke from wood stoves release pollutants like nitrogen dioxide, carbon monoxide, ground-level ozone, and fine particulate matter (PM2.5). These tiny particles are especially dangerous; they’re small enough to enter the lungs and bloodstream, and are directly linked to illnesses like asthma, cardiovascular disease, lung cancer, and developmental issues in children.

Small things like walking or biking instead of driving, avoiding open burning, caring for green spaces, and advocating for clean policies may seem simple, but they have a multiplying effect when done collectively.

Caring for the soil and the air is not just an environmental act: it’s a deeply human and community-driven one.

A clear example of this challenge can be found in La Victoria, a rural area in my hometown of Pujilí. Known for its beautiful clay pottery, the community also faces a hidden environmental and health crisis. For decades, artisans have used lead from old car batteries in their firing kilns because it’s a cheaper option. This practice, sustained by lack of environmental education and access to clean technology, has contaminated the air with toxic particles, degraded the soil, affected nearby water sources, and endangered the health of people, flora, and fauna.

It’s a powerful reminder of how small decisions can have large consequences, and of the urgent need to support communities in transitioning toward safer and more sustainable production methods.