From the Screen to the Heart: Art, Storytelling, and the Demand for Nuclear Justice

Written By Tabitha Hrynick

Reflections on the role of art and storytelling in environmental justice, spurred by watching the updated cut of Lois Lipman’s First We Bombed New Mexico

The cool air, soft seat, and gentle glow in the theatre contrasted with the searing heat, hard dirt, and beige and blue brightness of the desert scene unfolding onscreen. Despite these creature comforts, a special screening of a fresh cut of Lois Lipman’s documentary, First We Bombed New Mexico, transported me back to the event that sweltering mid-summer day in the remote Jornada Del Muerto several months prior.

A group of activists, community members, researchers, journalists, political leaders, and other allies had gathered to mark the 80th anniversary of the Trinity Test – the first nuclear bomb ever detonated on earth – and to dedicate a new sign acknowledging the existence and decades-long fight for justice of New Mexico’s Trinity Downwinders. These unwitting, and now multi-generational victims of radioactive fallout from the blast have suffered serious health, cultural, and economic consequences that continue to this day.

The film crew had joined us to document the event, the footage of which would transform the film from what was previously a story of hard-fought for yet undelivered justice, into one with a much more triumphant ending. In addition to the recognition brought by the sign dedicated near the Trinity site that day, the new cut also updated audiences on a major policy win in the form of monetary compensation for which the Trinity Downwinders have been fighting for decades. The Radiation Exposure Compensation Act (RECA), from which New Mexico Downwinders had been excluded since 1990, would now entitle individuals to $100,000 reparation payments. While modest in comparison to the scale of harm they have endured, this feels like an important step towards healing.

The film’s powerful storytelling, which follows the story of Downwinder and grassroots activist Tina Cordova, alongside other New Mexico Downwinders, elicited the same emotions I had felt when watching it previously – grief, anger, hope – but this time also joy and optimism that further justice was in reach. The film had created a space for me to connect more deeply with, reaffirm, and strengthen my sense of humanity and solidarity – the very reasons I chose to dedicate my PhD research to issues of nuclear injustice. For many of us committed to understanding and fighting injustice in our world, these deeper motivations can sometimes fall into the background as we juggle day-to-day life. Engaging with powerful stories or other forms of artistic expression can help us reconnect with our sense of purpose and renew our commitments.

“Engaging with powerful stories or other forms of artistic expression can help us reconnect with our sense of purpose and renew our commitments.”

Not only can art represent, but it can play an active role in changing reality. Since the launch of its first version in the summer of 2024, it seems the film has been a powerful tool in the Downwinders’ success securing reparation payments. The film is partly credited for expanding US Representative Teresa Legar Fernández’ knowledge of the plight of Downwinders. She would become a champion for the legislation to expand RECA to New Mexico Downwinders and other nuclear harmed communities in the US. Discussing the legislation with the Guardian last year, she evoked a scene from the film in which a survivor recounts playing with her friends in the radioactive ash, even tasting it, which they thought was “summer snow.” All of her friends would go on to pass away at young ages from various forms of cancer.

It is one thing to read a historical narrative or an accounting of events, and entirely another to be invited into fellow humans’ lives and stories – to feel their pain, their resolve, their joy – to imagine dancing with them in radioactive ash. As a researcher trying to contribute to more just public policy and ways of doing for nearly a decade, I know from experience that even the most well-crafted report, policy brief or presentation is hardly if at all sufficient to drive change – certainly not alone.  While there is undoubtedly still a role to play for these conventional forms of academic knowledge outputs, it is the level of the human heart and spirit which draws us back to our shared humanity, and to the innate sense of solidarity and justice I believe we all possess. And it is from here that action and change often come.

Unfortunately, as a ‘cradle-to-grave’ nuclear colony, New Mexico is home to many communities contending with nuclear harm and injustice in almost all its forms. In addition to the Trinity Downwinders, these include communities facing chronic radiation exposure from working or living near abandoned uranium mines, or facilities developing nuclear weapons or storing nuclear waste. Many are Indigenous, people of color, and/or ordinary working or middle class folks. All deserve justice for the past, the ceasing of ongoing harm, and guarantees for safe, sustainable futures.   

Fortunately, New Mexico is rich with creatives who are harnessing their crafts to shed light on nuclear injustice and inspire change. For now, a shoutout to some of the filmmakers, visual artists, and other artistic visionaries using the powerful medium of their creativity to represent these important stories and to demand justice in New Mexico and beyond:  

Films

A growing number of films have been and are being made about nuclear harm and injustice in New Mexico and the wider region. Here are just three I’ve seen and been inspired by recently:   

Photography and visual arts

Several photographers have put the lens on nuclear injustice in New Mexico. Here are two who powerfully and artistically capture the scale of environmental impact of uranium mining:

  • Will Wilson’s beautiful and haunting images of the scars of uranium mining across Navajo Nation

  • Shayla Blatchford’s Anti-Uranium Mining Project also captures this scale, contextualising her images within research and information  

Numerous collections, exhibitions, and curated web-based write-ups have featured the works of many more creatives using their talents to address nuclear injustice. While it's impossible to name every artist in this short space, these curated showcases offer a potent way to experience the collective impact of their voices. Some of their works can be seen on the below webpages:

Poetry

Tabitha Hrynick