“Day of the Forest Defender:” Communities Gather to Remember Tortuguita, One Year Later

A candlelit altar for Tortuguita at the Forest Theatre in Chapel Hill. Photo by author.

On January 18, environmentalists and community groups across the country gathered to commemorate the life of Manuel “Tortuguita” Terán. The 26-year-old environmental activist, who used they/them pronouns, was shot dead by Georgia state troopers while protesting the construction of a training center for police and other first responders over 85 acres of the Weelaunee Forest on the same day last year.

The proposed training center, dubbed “Cop City” by critics, will include a shooting range and a mock village to train police for raids. Despite protests, lawsuits, and a petition with enough signatures to force a referendum which never came, construction of the compound is now 75% complete.

Tortuguita, along with other land protection activists, was occupying the Weelaunee Forest when Georgia’s State Patrol S.W.A.T. troopers were deployed to remove them. Separated from the others, Tortuguita allegedly shot and injured one of the troopers with a gun legally purchased in 2020.

In response, six of the troopers opened fire on the activist’s tent. Tortuguita was killed by over a dozen gunshots, resulting in 57 wounds to their head, torso, and extremities, including their hands. A private autopsy ordered by their family found that Tortuguita was likely sitting cross-legged when they died, with their hands raised.

The killing marks a grim development in the history of the environmental movement in the United States: the country’s first ever environmental activist to be killed in action by the police.

While an initial autopsy by the DeKalb County Medical Examiner did not find evidence of gunshot residue left on Tortuguita’s hands, the Georgia Bureau of Investigation (GBI) claims that a second analysis by their crime lab, which was released in April, did. The GBI also claims that ballistic analysis found that the bullet which injured officer Jerry Parrish came from Tortuguita’s handgun. This ballistic analysis has not been released, however, and has been called into question by friends and relatives of Tortuguita, who described them as a “pacifist” who would not have fired the gun except in self defense.

“The environmentalist movement was shockingly and fiercely attacked by the state,” Belkis Terán, the slain activist’s mother, said in an Instagram message. “Any action to feed and help poor people, to keep the forest safe and protected for a community is illegal and against the American system. This is so crazy.”

In October, it was determined that none of the involved officers would face criminal charges. The Special Prosecutor for the case found that the use of deadly force in this case was “objectively reasonable” under the circumstances, as the troopers had used a non-lethal pepperball launcher to attempt to remove Terán before coming under fire. Tortuguita allegedly fired 4 times with a 9 mm pistol.

Tortuguita has taken on a second life in the collective consciousness of environmental activists and leftists worldwide. I can speak for myself in saying that Tortuguita became a fixture in my own mind in the weeks following their death, when the first autopsy came out with no sign of gunpowder residue. It appeared that the Georgia State Patrol had gunned down an innocent activist with no repercussions.

Now, it seems that the picture is not so clear. Further evidence, released months after the fact, does suggest that Tortuguita fired at the officers storming the Weelaunee Forest encampment. While the Terán family continues to call for an independent investigation, I will not suggest that the state falsified evidence against Tortuguita.

Tortuguita’s life of activism started long before “Cop City,” and they deserve to be remembered for more than their violent death. A graduate of Florida State University, Terán was an active member of Food Not Bombs and helped feed the unhoused of their community. At the time of their death, their brother told the Associated Press that Tortuguita had been growing out their hair to donate to children with cancer.

The cultural memory of Tortuguita has now evolved well beyond that of a single person killed by police. It’s Going Down, an anarchist website which compiled the postings of many of the groups memorializing Tortuguita on the 18th, describes the Stop Cop City movement as a “burning torch for class confrontation and cultural innovation” in the United States, which has united environmentalists and more radical left-wing groups towards a single goal. 

“Memory is our weapon,” the site reads. By refusing to forget events like Tortuguita’s killing, it argues, activists on the left can give themselves the time to galvanize support and create real change rather than moving on to the next emergency and succumbing to business as usual.

Dubbed “Day of the Forest Defender,” community and political groups in 30+ U.S. cities and beyond gathered to memorialize Tortuguita in a number of ways. Some took on a politically activist approach, taking the opportunity to discuss community organizing and how to get involved in the movement. Others hosted artistic events, vigils, and communal meals, all with a common theme: “bring what you can.”

Tortuguita’s mother, Belkis Terán, has also taken on an active role in the movement to memorialize her child and advance their legacy.

“I am happy that good people are awakening,” Terán said in an Instagram message, “I am focusing on healing, because the change is from inside to outside… This society needs to learn what love really is.”

In Chapel Hill’s Forest Theatre, just off campus, attendees assembled a small altar in the shape of a turtle and filled it with natural artifacts from the surrounding forest. A few shared words of grief and anger, but also of love. One lamented that Tortuguita was alone when they died and stressed that those present did not have to grieve alone.

The organizers were not willing to speak to me, and I did not record their speeches out of respect. I can say, however, that I saw more hugs exchanged in the hour I was there than I usually would in the span of months.

“This is Manuel’s legacy, love to others in action,” Belkis Terán said in an Instagram message.