Who gets to turn the tap on? Erin Kanzig’s work at the intersection of water and justice

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Erin Kanzig

By Taylor Pedersen, CLA Student Writer - March 6, 2026

By the time Kanzig, M.P.P. ‘20, had language for “environmental justice,” she had already been living it for years.

She grew up in Sisters, Oregon, where the outdoors was like a teacher to her. Hiking, camping, and learning the local ecology were everyday experiences, reinforced not just at home but in school. As a teenager, Kanzig participated in an immersive environmental education program that brought together science, outdoor recreation, and nature writing; an early introduction to the idea that land and people are never separate.

“That really helped me understand what a sense of place means,” Kanzig said. “And it was probably the first time I started thinking seriously about the intersection of social, economic, and environmental issues.”

That curiosity followed her to Whitman College in Walla Walla, Washington, where she deliberately chose what she described as “the broadest possible combination” of environmental studies and sociology. Starting college at 17, Kanzig wasn’t chasing a specific career path so much as an understanding of how the world works and how humans shape it: often unevenly.

“I was mostly just curious about everything,” she said. “How humans are part of the world, but also have an undue influence on it.”

Her undergraduate thesis reflected that impulse. Kanzig studied perceptions of wolves returning to Oregon, interviewing ranchers, conservationists, and state agency staff to understand how geography and identity shape environmental conflict. The issue itself, wolves moving back into the state, was different for everyone, emphasizing the urban-rual divide between those who were directly affected by wolves versus those who wanted to protect them.

“That was when I really started asking questions about how place influences belief,” she said. “And how people can be responding to the same reality in completely different ways.”

After graduation, Kanzig moved far from the forests of Central Oregon to Detroit, Michigan, joining a year-long volunteer program with Alternatives for Girls, a shelter serving young women ages 15 to 21, many of them navigating homelessness, parenthood, and systemic neglect. The move marked her first sustained immersion in a large city, and in a majority-Black community dealing with decades of disinvestment. 

“I probably romanticized it,” Kanzig admitted. “The reality was emotionally grueling.”

As a resident advisor, her days were intimate: helping with meals, driving residents to appointments and job interviews, and making sure people were safe. Many of the young women she worked with were her own age, but their life experiences couldn’t have been more different. 

“It was my first real step into adulthood,” she said. “And a very unique entry point into the workforce.” 

While Kanzig was learning how gender, poverty, and survival intersect on an individual level, Detroit itself was unraveling. During the city’s municipal bankruptcy in the early 2010s, the state installed an emergency manager with sweeping authority, effectively neglecting local democracy. One of the most visible consequences was the mass shutoff of residential water service to collect unpaid bills. 

“They were shutting off whole blocks,” Kanzig said. “Thousands of people didn’t have running water in their homes.”

The public health implications were immense. Residents with negligent landlords lost access to water. Families waited hours in line to restore service. Community organizers mobilized, protesting what they saw as an inhumane policy that disproportionately harmed low-income Black residents while corporations with massive water use faced little scrutiny. 

For Kanzig, it was a turning point.

“I hadn’t really participated in protests or rallies before that,” she said. “But seeing people around me organize, and knowing people directly who had their water shut off, made it impossible to ignore.” 

She pointed to the late Charity Hicks, founder of the People’s Water Board Coalition, as a key influence. Hicks helped frame water shutoffs as an issue of public health, environmental justice, and economic survival, connecting dots Kanzig has continued to spend her career tracing.

“I think that was the start of feeling like I needed to show up for my community,” Kanzig said. “Even if it was just being another person at a rally.” 

After several years in Detroit, Kanzig did something radically different: she returned to the West Coast to hike the Pacific Crest Trail, something she always wanted to do. While she clarifies that she wasn’t entirely alone, the experience was still an intense physical and emotional reset after years of community building and service work.

“It strips life down to the basics,” she said. “Finding water. Eating food. Putting one foot in front of the other.”

The hike offered simplicity, slowness, and a rare opportunity to think; an experience Kanzig described as transformative. Moving through ecosystems at walking speed, she reconnected with the natural world in a way that contrasted sharply with the political complexity she’d been navigating. 

That clarity ultimately led her back to school. Seeking a deeper understanding of policy processes and environmental justice at a structural level, Kanzig enrolled in Oregon State University’s Master of Public Policy program. In addition to offering a graduate teaching assistantship to Kanzig, the program emphasized a practical and applied approach, exactly what Kanzig was looking for. 

“What surprised me most was how often the language didn’t translate into action,” she said. 

The coursework gave her the analytical tools she felt she’d been missing and provided a comprehensive look at socioeconomic issues from a systems-level. Economics, political science, and policy design layered onto her lived experience.

Her thesis examined whether state-level environmental justice policies in Oregon, Michigan, and New Mexico actually achieved their stated goals. Through interviews with advocates and organizers, Kanzig found a familiar gap between intention and impact. 

“Progress was slow, if it was happening at all,” she said. “A lot of policies sounded good, but they didn’t have accountability mechanisms. They didn’t have teeth.” 

Still, she noted that momentum has grown since she completed her research. States like New Jersey have passed stronger environmental justice laws that consider cumulative impacts, acknowledging that some communities simply cannot absorb more pollution.

After finishing her degree, Kanzig returned to Detroit, this time to work for River Network, a national nonprofit that supports water-focused organizations navigating local, state, and regional water issues and policy. Her early work included building a state water policy hub: a centralized resource for advocates tracking efforts like lead service line replacement, addressing emerging contaminants like PFAS, and watershed restoration across the country.

Today, her focus is capacity building: training community groups to understand water infrastructure funding and advocate for resources where they’re needed most. 

“It’s not a sexy topic,” Kanzig said. “It’s pipes under the ground. But it matters.” 

Defining impact, she explained, looks different now. Rather than measuring success through visible protest or immediate wins, her work often shows up indirectly through strengthened coalitions, better-informed advocates, and long-term policy shifts.

“It can be hard to trace,” she said. “But hearing from groups who’ve seen real changes in their communities makes it feel worth it.”

One recent example is River Network’s resource on reducing water shutoffs, which outlines best practices for utilities and communities working to keep water accessible and affordable; a continuation of the issues that first motivated Kanzig in Detroit more than a decade ago. The resource is available through River Network’s Safe and Affordable Drinking Water initiative.

Much of her success today with collaborative governance and finding solutions through partnerships forged between community organizations and government stakeholders can be traced back to what she learned during the M.P.P. program. Associate Professor Erika Wolters' environmental policy course provided a strong foundational understanding of bedrock environmental laws, Kanzig said, and Professor Mark Edwards' social research class that Kanzig took during her first term helped her ease back into school after a six year break, applying research questions to issues she wanted to understand through a policy lens. Additionally, a class on Collaborative Governance (PPOL 544) was a “big influence” with how she carries on the mission of River Network today. 

Looking back, from Sisters to Detroit, across the Pacific Crest Trail, through Corvallis, and back again to Detroit, Kanzig sees water as the constant tying her experiences together. 

“It’s about dignity,” she said. “And about whether we treat people’s health and well-being as disposable.”

In a moment marked by setbacks in environmental protections and growing inequity, Kanzig remains committed. Impact isn’t about a single victory, but about building skills, strengthening communities, and pushing systems, however slowly, toward justice.