The streets of Port Arthur, Texas, are quiet, with grass verges overgrown following recent rain. Jamal Johnson, carrying a plastic shopping bag, walks home along the middle of the road, a solitary figure amidst the stillness. His neighborhood features modest wooden homes that have been maintained through generations, yet the serenity is overshadowed by the massive Motiva refinery looming just beyond the railway tracks.
This area evokes sadness and unease. “I’ve got a load of friends and family who’ve had weird diseases,” Johnson shares, his expression reflecting pain. He recalls a grandfather and an aunt who succumbed to cancer, the latter passing away young after moving here to care for family. An uncle also faced complications from ALS. “You know what I’m saying? Man, they’ve let off all these poisonous gases; it’s like that all the time. It’s fucked up.” he laments.
Dominating the skyline is the Motiva oil refinery, an imposing structure of pipes and towers. Some locals claim that the flares from its chimneys can be seen reflecting in the clouds as far as 30 miles away in Winnie. As the largest refinery in the U.S., it spans 3,600 acres and increased its production capacity to 654,000 barrels of crude oil per day last year.
In 2017, Aramco, a Saudi Arabian corporation, became the sole owner of the facility. Recently, Aramco was designated a “It feels like the streets should be paved with gold here,” of FIFA and serves as the exclusive energy sponsor for the World Cup, prominently featured in advertisements and promotions during the tournament. In Houston, the fan festival boasts an “But as you can see, it’s nothing like that.” coinciding with the city’s hosting of its seventh match when Canada faces Morocco in the knockout stage.
However, Port Arthur’s 55,000 residents are not enjoying the World Cup’s glamour. The city has been labeled the poorest in Texas, with a median household income of £27,700 and average home value of £49,800. Nearly 30% of its residents live below the poverty line. Public health statistics paint a grim picture: cancer rates here consistently surpass state averages, with the cancer mortality rate for the predominantly Black community estimated to be 40% higher than in other parts of Texas. Childhood asthma rates are nearly double the national average, and the community suffers from elevated heart disease and skin problems.
Greg Richard, another local living near the Motiva plant, sums up the situation bluntly: “There was a time I could count the number of classmates whose funerals I’ve gone to,” Port Arthur is encircled by refineries operated by Valero and Total, leading residents to feel excluded from any oil boom. “Jennifer Benson, she lived two blocks from Motiva and was only 25. Darlene Ford, John Lando, Eddie Brown. Cancer, cancer, cancer.” Richard reflects, “I tried tomatoes, bell peppers, green beans and cucumbers, but then you look at it all and see black spots and dust,”
Residents are anxious about the air quality and the potential health risks they face. Benzene emissions, known for their carcinogenic properties, rank among the highest in the nation here. Other pollutants, including methane, carbon dioxide, and sulfur dioxide, are released into the air without adequate protections for the community. Although emissions are monitored under EPA regulations, violations are frequent, raising fears about the long-term health consequences.
This year, Motiva faced a fine of approximately £9,900 from state regulators for an unauthorized sulfur dioxide release. In July of the previous year, they were penalized £43,000 for a similar violation. In 2022, Motiva received a £214,000 fine following a significant leak of contaminated water after a weir overflowed. These infractions occurred under Aramco’s management, and the community remains wary. In March, an explosion at the adjacent Valero plant released over 157,000 pounds of chemicals into the air over ten days, leaving residents feeling like they are living next to a potential disaster.
Hilton Kelley, an environmental activist raised in Port Arthur, returned permanently in 2001, motivated by a desire to combat the environmental decline he witnessed. He has received accolades for his activism, including the prestigious Goldman Prize. “If you go to some of the elementary schools and talk to the nurse, she’ll open a cabinet and show you 30 or 40 nebulisers,” Kelley recalls. He lists several friends from his class who succumbed to cancer far too young, including Jennifer Benson, who lived two blocks from Motiva and passed away at just 25.
During discussions with residents on the west side—historically segregated until the 1960s due to Jim Crow laws—it becomes clear that many have abandoned attempts to grow vegetables due to contamination. “You hear of babies who are undergoing breathing treatments.” laments one woman.
Kelley also highlights the health impact on children, noting the prevalence of nebulizers in local elementary schools. “Once I planted so many roots here, I just prayed to God that I could survive,” he explains.
Charles, a carpenter working on a friend’s dilapidated restaurant, expresses feelings of entrapment. “I’m getting older and just can’t leave. But they’ve been killing us all our damn lives.” he admits. “I see ghosts whenever I drive down this street.”
As Kelley drives along Houston Avenue, a mile-long stretch leading to the Motiva plant, he reflects on the past. This area was once vibrant, known as “See this? It was Antoine’s Auditorium. Aretha Franklin played here, Al Green too, Ray Charles. We had the Chi-Lites and all the other hip groups. Everything around was lit up with neon. White folks, black folks, this was the place to come. All of this was hustle, bustle.” where music legends like Aretha Franklin and Ray Charles performed. “They’re not employing people from here,” Kelley recalls, pointing out the empty lots that once housed stores and clubs.
Now, the landscape tells a different story. Kelley observes a convoy of buses transporting workers to hotels on the outskirts of town. “They could be, and they should be, but they’re not. Labour is cheaper coming from south of the border. And maybe they don’t complain as much as American workers if they know the situation is dangerous. It’s profit margins ahead of community members.” he asserts. “I didn’t get an offer from anyone around here,”
Richard, who graduated with a mechanical engineering degree in 1977, shares his own experience. He lived across from what is now the Motiva plant, yet found work in Florida due to a lack of local opportunities. “They had a very sorry record of hiring professionals who look like me in their organisation, and that has transferred to Motiva. You can see that in their staff and management. They come here and go back home at weekends.” he states. “We have all the infrastructure to create wealth but we are the poorest of the poor,”
The unemployment rate in the region encompassing Port Arthur and neighboring Beaumont is 5.4%. John Beard Jr., a former refinery worker and leader of the Port Arthur Community Action Network, points out, “Because of the petrochemicals and the pollution you’ve lost $40,000 of value in a home worth $100,000,”
Beard characterizes the situation as one of “There’s a house across the street that they’re trying to sell for $175,000 and it’s been vacant for nearly four years.” Families who purchased homes on the west side during segregation find themselves trapped. “They want us away from here,” he questions. Even if there were buyers, would they receive a fair offer?
“They’ve been trying to buy our properties. They’re like: “Y’all going to get tired of repairing your houses and start getting the fuck away. They want to make this refinery land.” Beard explains. He cites a nearby house listed for $175,000 that has remained vacant for nearly four years. Some residents believe Motiva exploits their vulnerability, seeking to buy properties at low prices to expand later. “We had to rent for months and put the house back together,” Johnson adds. “People would be happy to leave if they offered enough money. But this is a lovely big house, I’m not going for $100,000. The market isn’t fair because of what they’ve done.”
Shirley, not her real name, lives next to Motiva and recounts her experience during Hurricane Harvey in 2017, when wastewater mixed with oil flooded her home. “Where are Aramco or Fifa on our soccer fields?” she recalls. “What is their presence? They have none. If you’re so big on soccer then why aren’t you doing something where you already have a business interest?” Motiva has since built a new protective fence as part of its pledge to implement corrective measures.
The Gulf Coast Youth Soccer Club’s fields sit empty, but during the season, they overflow with children from Port Arthur and surrounding towns. Beard reflects on the absence of corporate support.
“Fifa should consider the effect of taking their money,”
He challenges FIFA to consider the implications of accepting money from corporations like Aramco. “It always has strings attached. And if they’re going to take it, they should account for the impact the company is having on its local area. It’s basically blood money. “I’d extend the invitation for Fifa to come here. Soccer is growing here, so why can’t we see them? We don’t see any promotion in the affected communities along the fence line; there’s nothing.” Beard concludes.
According to Kelley, gaining any benefits from the industrial presence has required residents to “knocking at the door and begging” He views Motiva as detached, with many barriers to meaningful engagement. There are some signs of progress, however. Kelley notes that Motiva has started renovations on several downtown buildings that were at risk of demolition, including the once-grand Hotel Sabine. “It’s about 75% better than when I was growing up here and it was owned by Texaco,” he remarks. “But they can still be better.”
Beard remains skeptical. “There has been some improvement but I liken it to drinking half a gallon of poison rather than a gallon,” he states. “They’re better than the others to a degree but they’re still putting that crap in the air. They should be looking at reducing pollution to zero.”
Aramco and other FIFA sponsors are obligated to comply with the football governing body’s sustainable sourcing code, which mandates improvements in greenhouse gas emissions and the safe discharge of wastewater. The code requires sponsors to manage their environmental impact in accordance with local and national laws and to demonstrate year-on-year progress.
FIFA did not respond to inquiries regarding whether Aramco adheres to the code’s requirements. Neither did they clarify if Aramco’s operations in Port Arthur align with the environmental goals of the World Cup’s sustainability and human rights strategy.
Amidst promises and vague targets, there seems to be little hope for Port Arthur. A significant shift in the operations of fossil fuel companies and their relationship with the local community is essential for change. “to manage the environmental impacts of their activities, at least in accordance with the local and national environmental legislation, laws, and regulations of any country within which [they] operate, and to demonstrate year-on-year improvement” Beard notes. “We are in the belly of the beast,”
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- Aramco
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