Texas environmentalist Jarid Manos comes from a history of hustling and drug dealing in New York City. (Photo courtesy of Jarid Manos)
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ZACK ROSEN
Friday, February 22, 2008
Environmental
activism
is
often
thought
of
as
the
domain
of
the
hippie,
a
project
undertaken
by
someone
with
enough
time
and
resources
to
swim
with
the
dolphins
or
live
in
a
tree.
Jarid
Manos,
founder
and
CEO
of
the
Great
Plains
Restoration
Council
and
author
of
the
memoir
“Ghetto
Plainsman,”
paints
a
much
different
picture
of
a
man
trying
to
save
the
earth.
A
gay
son
of
an
Italian
immigrant
father
(who
likely
has
North
African
ancestry),
with
a
history
of
drug
dealing
and
hustling,
Manos
is
poised
to
change
the
popular
idea
of
what
it
means
to
take
care
of
our
planet.
Though
he’s
already
responsible
for
the
salvation
of
thousands
of
acres
of
Texas
prairie,
Manos
finds
that
people
have
trouble
overlooking
his
background.
“They
think
I’m
a
thug,
or
just
off
the
street,”
Manos
says.
“I
guess
I
have
that
appearance
to
them.
Even
some
of
my
friends
expect
me
to
be
so
hard.
The
strong
man
can
also
be
sensitive.
You
can
evolve,
you
can
keep
it
real
…
I’m
actually
a
very
passionate
person.”
The
fruits
of
Manos’
passions
can
currently
be
seen
in
the
landscape
of
Fort
Worth.
His
biggest
success
to
date
was
the
preservation
of
just
under
2,000
acres
of
land
in
an
area
he
named
the
“Fort
Worth
Prairie
Park.”
His
efforts
prevented
the
land
from
being
bulldozed,
and
he
continues
to
fight
for
the
area’s
permanent
protection.
“I
refer
to
him
as
John
the
Baptist,
coming
out
of
the
wilderness,
it’s
the
only
analogy
I
have,”
says
Bob
Ray
Sanders,
who
is
the
vice
president,
associate
editor
and
columnist
for
the
Fort
Worth
Star-Telegram.
“His
impact
has
been
incredible.
Here’s
a
man
who
came
and
just
went
to
work.
These
2,000
acres
that
he
felt
was
one
of
the
last
parts
of
the
prairies,
he
stopped
it
from
being
under
the
bulldozers
right
now.”
A
MORE
PERSONAL
ACCOUNT
of
Manos’
life
and
works
can
be
found
in
“Ghetto
Plainsmen,”
an
intensely
evocative
chronicle
of
his
past
and
the
events
that
led
him
to
his
current
fight
in
Texas.
The
book
details
Manos’
underprivileged
childhood
in
Ohio
and
bleak
years
working
through
New
York
City’s
drug
and
sex
economies.
While
Manos
has
earned
much
media
attention
through
his
environmentalism,
the
more
sordid
details
of
his
life,
as
well
as
the
honest
fact
of
his
sexuality,
might
come
as
a
surprise
to
his
followers.
Manos
has
struggled
with
his
sexual
orientation,
but
thinks
it’s
an
integral
part
of
his
story
and
shouldn’t
be
left
out.
“There
was
a
newspaper
column
that
came
out
a
couple
weeks
ago
that
made
it
all
public,
it
was
weird,
it
was
something
I
dreaded
for
a
long,
long
time,”
Manos
says.
“I
was
definitely
one
of
those
people
that
wanted
to
kill
[the
gay]
out
of
me,
I
dealt
with
huge
self-hatred
issues.
It’s
something
that
I
always
hated,
I’m
only
comfortable
with
it
now.
I
still
hated
seeing
those
words,
‘Manos
is
gay,’
in
[the
article.]
It’s
a
process
I’m
sure
everyone
goes
through.”
Sanders,
the
author
of
the
column,
was
originally
skeptical
of
Manos’
intentions
but
was
quickly
won
over
by
the
activist’s
dedication.
Sanders
had
seen
a
good
number
of
“flim-flam
men”
and
“crooked
politicians”
come
through
Texas
trying
to
exploit
its
citizens’
devotion
to
the
environment,
but
had
his
mind
changed
by
Manos’
quick
and
decisive
action.
Manos
asked
Sanders
for
a
list
of
governmental
figures
that
could
help
his
cause
and
had
contacted
or
met
with
them
all
within
two
days
of
the
conversation.
“[I
told
him
about]
the
land
commissioner,
in
whose
hands
the
[prairie]
land
is,
and
within
two
days
he
was
in
Austin
in
the
man’s
office,”
Sanders
says.
“Jarid
said,
‘He’s
going
to
come
here,
he’s
going
to
walk
this
land.’
Two
days
later
the
land
commissioner
was
up
there
and
Jarid
was
taking
him
through
the
wilderness.
He’s
an
amazing
individual.”
MANOS’
ENGINE
OF
CHANGE
is
the
Great
Plains
Restoration
Council.
The
group’s
web
site
divides
the
organization’s
mission
into
two
categories:
“healing
the
earth”
and
“healing
ourselves.”
Healing
the
earth
has
had
impressive
results,
but
preserving
the
psyches
of
his
fellow
community
members
is
of
equal
importance
to
Manos.
GPRC
runs
several
programs
intended
to
provide
support
to
inner
city
youth
through
hands-on
environmental
work.
“If
you
look
at
devastation
in
communities,
the
social
devastation
and
ecological
devastation
mirror
each
other,”
Manos
says.
“[There
is]
hopelessness
and
depression
in
young
people.
But
if
you
get
them
out
working,
not
on
some
trip
to
the
outdoors,
but
if
you
give
them
charge
of
healing
and
recovering,
that
personal
empowerment
produces
tangible
progress.
We’re
working
at
producing
new
environmental
leaders.”
As
driven
and
mission-oriented
as
Manos’
public
work
is,
“Ghetto
Plainsman”
reveals,
through
describing
the
activist’s
conflicted
past,
a
true
artistic
talent.
Manos
admits
that
he
doesn’t
read
very
much,
but
that
his
writing
comes
from
“going
to
that
moment
and
just
really
being
there
precisely.”
He
describes
his
childhood
in
Ohio
and
the
various
legitimate
and
illegitimate
paths
his
life
took
in
New
York.
“In
general,
I
felt
like
I
had
lost
my
chance
in
life
to
be
young
and
sexual,”
Manos
writes,
“To
be
clean,
to
experience
the
passion
and
caring
of
relationships
that
everybody
else
up
in
the
outside
world
had
…
I
went
right
from
craving
to
meet
somebody
who
I
could
really
vibe
with,
somebody
to
be
really
intimate
with,
to
settling
for
Diego,
who
I
realized
did
nothing
for
me,
to
becoming
a
tainted
prostitute,
a
hooker,
a
hustler,
in
a
desperate
...
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