Category Archives: Covid-19

Issue related to the Coronavirus Pandemic.

One Final Assignment: This is your Seventeen-Years Moment, Celebrate it!

Posted on by

Written and Spoken by Professor LaToya T. Brackett

Podcast Version Click Here

Listen to this letter in audio form. Be sure to open in a new tab, to read along.

A Prelude: I love being a professor, at times I loathe being both a professor and an empath, and a trained counselor. I loathe it because I often pick up on things that many of my colleagues do not, or if they do, the intentionality of responding is not always there. I loathed seeing my students on virtual classes after our spring break. But mostly, I loathed seeing the removal of joy in my seniors. And as professors, we all did, I am sure. But at moments I would feel the depression they had, and their removal of excitement—excitement that had been building and worked towards for seventeen years, and some change. It was gone—almost. And I couldn’t allow that. So I sat down to write this letter to you all.

My Dearest Class of 2020,

The reality is… these are moments you will remember.

Since childhood you’ve thought about what college you would attend. What friends you would make. Wondering what you would major in. Places you would go for breaks. The type of freedom you would feel away from home. And most likely, you dreamed about what it would be like to walk across that stage, with your cap and gown, in front of your families and friends. The moment you knew would represent seventeen years of schooling, seventeen years of homework, seventeen years of being tested, seventeen years of new friendships, broken friendships, and forever friendships. Seventeen years of awesome teachers, teachers that did the best they could, teachers who changed your life, teachers you would like to forget, and teachers you can’t wait to tell, “I did it!” For many of you, college has been a part of your future since you knew what a future was.

Well guess what, that future is now.

Those seventeen years of yearning are coming to a close. Unfortunately, your culminating moment comes in a time of crisis, of uncertainty, of quarantine, of social distancing in a time where social over-exaggeration is THE requirement, you are in a pandemic—Covid-19. And this virus, that has no vaccine, or guaranteed cure, is out there removing your seventeen years of accumulated joy. And we have come to know that the only cure for this vaccine, is to have patience, perseverance, unknown health strength, and perhaps quite a bit of luck;

My Professorial last assignment to you, is CELEBRATE.

That’s right, I’m assigning you more homework. You thought you were finished. Well you’re not. I reserve the right to alter the syllabus at any time (professor humor, I know you might not be laughing). This assignment is required, it is not extra credit. Because this is a moment you will remember. I won’t allow any incompletes, because This. Is. The. Moment.

I know many universities are doing their best to prepare in-person graduation celebrations for the class of 2020 in the future—we still don’t know what the future looks like—so these celebrations (like the one at our university) are slated for a year after your original graduation date. And this is wonderful, it really is, and I hope all of you get to participate in that moment. But trust me, that moment, one year later, is not your Seventeen-Years moment. It will be a great moment indeed, but not like the one you are in right now. This pandemic-moment that you knocked out of your way to finalize those requirements for your college degree, is your Seventeen-Years-and-a-Pandemic moment. No one else has had a moment like this, and trust and believe no one has had a final semester/quarter of college like this. You are the novel graduation class of 2020 (sorry perhaps I shouldn’t use a pun so soon… but it is the truth). You spent seventeen years (and some of you, seventeen and some change, and you better know it doesn’t matter, the degree does), reaching for the same moment your friends from the class of 2019 had, your parents from the class of (they won’t tell you), because they showed you pictures or you joined in their pictures of their moment, and it was joyous. It was extreme social over-exaggeration, and they loved it and you yearned for one more year to get yours. Well, guess what, compared to their years, yours probably still feels like… To Be Determined…

My assignment to you is to be determined to make your moment positively memorable.

I remember my Seventeen-Years moment. I remember all of it. The good and the bad—but my bad came on suddenly with no warning, my bad couldn’t have been altered into an outlook of “damn, I finished those classes online, in quarantine, with uncertainty, and now I’m getting that paper. King, Kong ain’t got nothing on me,”—moment.

The reality is, I remember all of my graduations, high school, college, and graduate school. And the reality is, my moments were not so great. I did not always feel like some of the members of my family were there to cheer me on. At two of those graduations there were moments they proved my worries were right. I could tell you the torrid details of those moments, because guess what they are memorable, even more so, because they were in my Seventeen-Years-type of moments. But I won’t. I will tell you what I know to be true because of those sad memories.

I remember my joy before the unfortunate moments.

I remember my walk from the Arts quad, behind the Pan African flag with my friends to the field, where they told us to stand and move our tassel from one side to the other and we were thus graduated. I remember who I sat next to. I remember the people I greeted for the very last time ever. I remember trying so hard to find my best friends, but our Seventeen-Years moments were happening at the very same time and their Seventeen-Years moment cheerleaders socially overexaggerated around them. And I got pictures with each of them separately. But the day before we got one good picture before the amazing storms of celebration and joy that descended on our campus on the hill. I remember moments like this for my doctoral graduation as well, different type of level, different type of joy, but good memories. And for me, to still remember the great in those moments, when the bad still makes me wish for a do-over, means you can make your Seventeen-Years moment count too. And guess what, you already know what the worst aspect of it will be—all things covid-19.

I wanted a do-over of my moments, and there will never be one. I could attempt to put on my cap and gown today and walk across that stage, but all the energy that led up to when I earned my degrees, are no longer tingling and itching to get out. I worry that a year from now, my graduating students will no longer have that tingling and that itching, and walking across that stage will simply be protocol. And the reality is, the class of 2020 is beyond protocol. So, despite the reality that we must quarantine in your Seventeen-Years moment, be creative and celebrate like you never would have thought before.

We are all virtual now. That teacher from the 5th grade that told you how great you were at math, and gave you the confidence to fall in love with numbers and equations, can be at your virtual celebration. The professor that made you realize that you wanted to study something that you were excited about, can be there. Your grandparent who can’t travel anymore, can be there. Your friends from all over can pop in to say congratulations at any time. People you met on your study abroad to Ghana can be a witness too. So be creative.

I spoke about that tingling and itching you have right now to be finished with school, to have your university bequeath that you have met the requirements for your degree, and I wish to speak about it again. Don’t let go of it, not quite yet. Don’t let your worries about the world delete this feeling. Not until you’ve done the things that you always thought you’d be doing in celebration of this Seventeen-Years moment.

I’d like to share a story about one of you seniors. A senior told me she hadn’t taken any senior pictures. When I asked her for a picture to put up for our department’s virtual graduation celebration to recognize her, she felt she was falling short. She felt like, her picture she sent was not good enough for her graduation recognition moment. And that was an honest feeling. And I reminded her, this is the moment you have been waiting for, for a long time. She, like me is first generation, and she spoke about how her entire family was looking forward to her moment, because as many of us First Gens know, our success is a collective success. She was still living on campus while taking virtual classes, and I told her to go take her senior pictures. That’s right. I told her go get dressed up, and capture some memories. I suggested she ask one of her classmates in my course to help her—I knew just the right person with just the right amount of positivity in this uncertain time to make her senior pictures moment fun. And I told her, “no one is on campus, and no one will be looking at you funny as you pose—however you wish to pose.”

She took those pictures. She told me thank you. She told me her family was so excited to see her senior photos. She said it felt like she finally had a sense of closure on campus. 

I’m glad I gave her an assignment. I’m glad she embraced it. Because now I am embracing my role to share with the class of 2020, that this moment is memorable, and it will be remembered. How do you wish to remember it?

Assignment Title: Class of Covid-19

Assignment Prompt: You are the class of 2020, and in a decade or so you will probably be referred to as the Class of Covid-19. I hope you will embrace it, as it reiterates how amazing you truly are. But it is not yet a decade from now. For my students, May 17, 2020 was the date you were to participate in the official commencement ceremony on our campus. As of March 23, 2020, you found out that in-person commencement was postponed, and it will be held one year from now.

The first part of this assignment is to respond to the following questions:

  1. What were you most looking forward to for commencement?
  2. What things did you plan to do prior to commencement in preparation for it? (ex: buy a new outfit, get a fresh haircut, figure out how your hair would fit under that cap, buy a pair of shoes that your family could see from the stands, decorate your cap, send thank you cards to family, friends, professors, remind your family to purchase the cake that says “you did it!”, take senior pictures, grab a meal with your closest friends, send out invitations, look at yourself in the mirror and say “I made it.”)
  3. What things did you plan to do after your commencement ceremony? (ex: go out to dinner with family, have dessert, go to a party with friends, pack up all your stuff to move out, take pictures with your family, friends, and favorite professors, bask in the joy, shed a few tears at the bitter sweet, try not to worry about what’s next, experience the now.)

Secondly, now that you have responded to these questions, highlight the things you STILL CAN DO. Remember be creative. Enlist your family and friends for help. Brainstorm. Use all of those critical thinking skills you gained in your college career, and after seventeen years of homework, don’t let this one be late.

Congratulations to the unique, novel, resilient, determined, unapologetically celebratory, college class of 2020.

Sincerely,

Professor Brackett

P.S.

As a professor of African American studies, as a first generation student, as an African American woman, who never knew she’d be where she is today, as the graduate who worried about how her family would be able to afford the trip from Virginia to New York and later Michigan, as the sometimes three-job-having college student who worried how to afford my cap and gown, my new dress, my hair style, and the gas to drive myself back to Virginia, as the granddaughter of a grandparent who was incapable of walking from the stadium to north campus, as the black girl with a middle name she worried wouldn’t be pronounced correctly, as the First Gen who knew she would have to translate all the college speak for her family, as the dream and the hope of the slave, as the code switcher, as the girl who would tell people she graduated with honors from Cornell University and would often receive tones of congratulations that have the sound of surprise… It would be disrespectful of me to close out this letter without speaking for those often unheard.

I see you. I know that your future narratives from childhood don’t always look like what our society tells us it should. Your families may never have spoken about college. You may not have a family. Your seventeen years of schooling may not have looked like what our society defines as average, and this often means you are above average, but no one ever told you that. They told you something was wrong with you, they told you graduating from college probably wouldn’t happen. They said you would never make it. But you did. And this is why I get a tingling when I see you all, those often unseen, walk to commencement through our line of cheers as your proud professors. I get overly excited to see your joy. Your moment is most precious to me. So precious that I gladly wear my regalia each year, hat included, and sit as they read your names, and stay on campus until the tent of refreshments has no one left to refresh. I’m happy to hold the camera and get many photos of your entire crew in one image, or I’ll keep pushing the button until you captured the perfect graduation picture for all of your social media accounts. Because you won’t get this moment back. Because I know.

You are probably more likely qualified to survive this pandemic because your lives were required to have patience, perseverance, unknown health strength and some luck. Many of you ask yourself from time to time, why me? Why am I the one that got out? Why am I the one that made it?

I worry about whether you will be able to return to campus a year from now to participate in the commencement ceremony set to replace the one you are missing this month. I worry that your family can’t or won’t make it. I worry you will not want to return to a campus, a place, that you spent four years and maybe some change at, and still felt unheard and unseen.

Please for the often unheard, and often unseen, read between the lines, because I write this especially with us in mind. This is your Seventeen-Years moment, with seventeen years worth of doubts from others and yourself, and you made it. You made it. So celebrate it.

And it is you that made me say, I must write this. You won’t get this moment back. And you will always remember it. So make your Seventeen-Years moment positively memorable.

P.S.S.

Here’s a link to a celebration that showcases: This is how we do it.

https://www.facebook.com/TND/videos/284797529633597/?v=284797529633597

Citations Still Matter: For the credit and links to the Cap Designs, see list below, by number from top left to top right, and bottom left to bottom right.

1. Ancestors Cap 2. Dream & Vision 3. Chemistry 4. Si Se Pudo 5. Black Girl Magic 6. Ho’omau 7. Migrated 8. First Gen 9. Bball

Letter of Truth

Posted on by

By Sofia McLaren

This is a letter to my 6-year-old self. As a 5-year-old my house was flooded by Hurricane Katrina and my family remained in New Orleans for another year so that I could finish Kindergarten. This letter informally addresses what went on during that time for my white family and attempts to point out to my younger self the inequities that occurred during that time and connect them to the current pandemic that we are experiencing. This is relevant because New Orleans, specifically the black community in New Orleans, is being targeted by the corona virus due to different circumstances. I am hoping that by reading this letter to my younger self, you are able to ask questions similar to the ones I raise and remember past experiences through a new lens. Hopefully, you feel inspired and want to read more pieces that we as a class have created.

Dear Sofia,

I know you are feeling as if your world will never be the same; this is not a unique feeling, and the fact is that you will return to “normal” much sooner than many others around you. You have lost the stability that you knew so well. But remember the day that Hurricane Katrina hit. You were safe, far from the path of destruction, unable to imagine what it would be like to be the people on top of the roofs of their houses. You simply stared at the television, like you did with your parents every morning, before the hurricane hit your house, wondering what destruction would be announced next. Asking, “Why isn’t someone helping people off their roofs? How did they end up there in the first place?” The idea that these people had been abandoned in an unfathomable position was impossible to you… you did not know better.

“Evacuation was not what you wanted, but it was something you were given, not a punishment.”

I am telling you, from 14 years later, that now we do know better. It was our privilege to be able to evacuate, to drive away from the city of New Orleans on the side of the freeway that was supposed to lead into the city. You are safe, you are protected, you are cared for. You may have lost your sense of childhood safety, but many others lost the lives of the ones they loved, evacuation was not a given. As you played “Evacuation” with your best friend, using a dollhouse, you were unaware of what a privilege that was. To you, evacuation meant leaving behind possessions you thought you should have, you piled the car with toys and clothes only to be told that you were allowed one bag. One bag? How could you fit your life into one bag? You are five and you need your dolls, your dress up clothes, and your doctor kit. Evacuation was not what you wanted, but it was something you were given, not a punishment. You understood what had to be done, your gentle voice speaking to the dolls saying, “you can’t take that sweetie, there’s not enough room, only one bag.” But understanding did not mean accepting, and it did not mean considering that other people may not be doing the same thing. All you knew was that the traffic was horrible, there was no empty space on the road in sight, so that must have meant everyone was leaving too, right? Wrong.

“The hurricane was not the same for everyone.” 

The luxury of leaving, which we had, was not the reality for many. Some people did not have the means or the support to leave the city, so they stayed in the convention center, they had no choice when it came to staying in the city. You did not know what to ask then, you did not recognize who was getting left behind, but you will later. You will know to ask who is being left behind and what is being done. You will ask why were there no relief efforts in the neighborhoods being hit the hardest, why were people being overlooked and why did they all look the same? Why are their neighborhoods still completely in shambles 14 years later? Why was the federal response so lacking? People weren’t jumping to their aid, it would take months for help to come. The Lower 9th Ward, the area right by some of the levees was hit hard; to this day there are concrete steps leading nowhere, in place of a home that used to be. The hurricane was not the same for everyone.

Today, yet again African Americans are being forgotten, the same thing is happening and you are seeing it. The convention center is open once again for emergency needs in response to the Covid-19 pandemic and will be used as a temporary hospital. Patterns have formed, the convention center is open again, the black community is targeted again, there is yet again not enough federal response in a city that needs more help and oppression continues. You’re seeing the numbers of Covid-19 cases rise faster in New Orleans, it wasn’t a specified population until more and more African American people came to the hospitals with symptoms of the virus. You may not know why or what questions to ask as a 6-year-old, but it is clear to you now, as a 19-year-old what needs to be addressed. Why are there certain communities with more cases?

“They are so called “essential” workers, but they are not thought of as essential unless we are in a crisis.”

Many African Americans in the community are working the lower income jobs that have them interacting with more people and places. For example, they work in grocery stores, drive buses, and clean facilities; in those jobs they do not have the option of working from home, as their job is to serve the local community. They are so-called “essential” workers, but they are not thought of as essential unless we are in a crisis. You have learned to ask, why are they essential now? Why are they ignored regularly? Why are they the main people working the service jobs?  Jobs aren’t the only reason the African American population is at risk for the virus; black people are also less likely to be insured which may make them more hesitant to go to the hospital, get tested, and get treatment. Insurance is not the only problem with healthcare, because there are many inequalities and biases that affect the black community that have been prevalent in New Orleans for a long time. During times of crisis the oppressive tendencies of our communities surface, but they tend to disappear after the danger is past. It is our job to make them known and to notice them. We have to make known the crisis occurring within the current pandemic, and understand that the people in New Orleans have no choice when it comes to working their frontline jobs.

“Everyone may be experiencing the same crisis, but it is not the same caliber of crisis for everyone.”

Today, the new coronavirus is taking thousands of lives daily, but the lives being taken are not equal, the virus is not affecting everyone in the same way. Everyone may be experiencing the same crisis, but it is not the same caliber of crisis for everyone. You do not know what questions to ask, but 14 years later you do. You may finally know what to ask as a 19-year-old, but that doesn’t mean you have answers. You do not know why oppression continues and why people choose to ignore the reality of the world’s oppressive nature. It is because of this class that you know to ask these questions, to see the inequities and see the problems that lie behind crises and everyday scenarios. Where is the extra relief for the city now during the coronavirus outbreak?

My five year old friend, questioning is the key, observing the world through a critical lens that acknowledges your view is not the view of every person, your perspective is unique to you and cannot be taken for granted or used as the umbrella perspective for all those around you. As you mourn the loss of the world you have known, acknowledge the loss that has been more damaging than you can imagine. You are living in and out of friends’ homes and apartments, battling lice, dealing with robberies, and coming to terms with saying goodbye to the place and people you call home, but many have not been as lucky as you. You are white, you go to a private school, you have a web of friends to support you, and you have a family whose stability remains. The tears that you and your family have shed over the robbery, the mucking out of your house, and the blown-off roof of your church are valid, but the tears shed by others whose reality has gone unnoticed must be recognized. Recognize the oppression during the hurricane you have gone through and recognize the oppression that has resurfaced 14 years later in the wake of a new crisis.

Love,

Slightly Older Sofia

I am hoping that by reading this letter to my younger self, you yourself are asking these questions and remembering past experiences through a new lens. Hopefully, you are feeling inspired and want to read more pieces that we as a class have created. We have another publication coming out dedicated to our work in this class that focuses on reporting different happenings on the UPS campus. Our goal was to document and report on events and happenings on campus this year. This class has given each of us different tools to continue with our education and use in the real world. This next showcase publication will bring home everything that we have learned and value about this class. I myself have come out of this class with a new perspective on life and the inner workings of the world, as a class we have confronted some difficult topics that have helped us become better and more observant human beings.

Campus: A Comedy

Posted on by

Like all Loggers, I love our beautiful campus with all of my heart. In case you were not yet made aware, our campus is rated in the top 20 most beautiful campuses according to the Princeton review (we came in at number 20, but don’t tell anyone because we don’t like to talk about that). It seems our community members agree that our campus is pretty dang beautiful, because in the absence of our student body, neighboring dog walkers and children and families on all sorts of bike adjacent contraptions have come to fill the void, and to enjoy the sunshine, freshly bloomed tulips, and our world renowned grass. 

You, like any upstanding member of the Puget Sound Community, are of course familiar with the edgy kids who sit on the slab, freshman playing spikeball on Todd Field, ultimate frisbee team members throwing their plastic discs, and groups of PSO kids hanging from hammocks or slacklines. Now get ready for the new kids on the block! If you were to step on campus nowadays on your daily state sanctioned walk you may see:

A Pug sitting on it’s very own beach blanket panting from the exertion of walking, being hand fed gourmet snacks (most likely from the MET) by its owner. 

Two, maybe even four weeds growing freely on our campus in the absence of the majority of our hard working grounds keeping team. Fortunately, the lawn does not have this same freedom, as I have witnessed several lawnmowers out mowing down any pieces of grass brave enough to attempt to grow.

Our campus CRANE!!! This crane could once be found working hard on the welcome center, but it now wanders around campus working on various other projects and being all tall and stuff. Also, it is blue. 

The welcome center after months, maybe even decades of work is looking beautiful. The fences and barricades that used to surround it have been removed and the groundskeeping (including cute little shrubs) is impeccable. Now, all it needs is someone to welcome.

Puget Sound students with climbing ropes rappelling their way up trees. I guess edgeworks climbing gym is closed?

UPS fraternity bros scooting around the neighborhood on their razor scooters at truly impressive speeds.

The shocking assortment of person powered vehicles that frequent campus. Roller blades, bikes with 2 seats, bikes with 3 seats, tiny push bikes, scooters, bikes pulling carts containing children, plastic cars that parents push their children around in, and sometimes even normal bikes.

The Thompson Parking lot which once housed cars has now been repurposed as a skatepark for middle schoolers and UPS students alike to practice their kickflips. Gnarly!

This Kilworth Memorial Chapel sign across the street from the field house.

A group of thirty something bros playing ultimate frisbee and looking really cool while doing it. Catch these young men setting up a volleyball net on Todd field, then taking it down four minutes later because security told them to. 

Small children who are talented enough to set up hammocks all by themselves without assistance, ‘mocking it up in various trees around campus.

UPS students lugging ridiculous amounts of cellar snacks they purchased in the sub back to their dorm rooms. 

Those same students toting sub food in to go vesicles seeking out unique dining locations (such as the stairs of Jones Hall, the ground, or the actual slab part of the slab) in the absence of anywhere else to sit.

Families gathering by the circle at night to light lanterns they have hung in trees.

Security guards circling campus in their pickup trucks watching over everyone previously mentioned ready to swoop in and put an immediate end to any shenanigans. 

#QuarantineCooking: Culinary Art of Puget Sound

Posted on by

In my Week 1 OpEd, I discussed how much the Diner has changed in terms of the variety of food options for students on campus, the reduction of the stations, and limiting the hours has increased the likelihood of purchasing groceries, cooking and eating out — and this has truly shown how much we miss the access to, and the vitality of, our student-staffed resources on campus. Yet students, in lieu of the virus’s negative effect on campus life, are trying to find ways that can connect and bring solidarity among each other. One way students are bringing connectivity into the hearts is through recipe sharing, and group grocery shopping called #QuarantineCooking, it is spread among students through what is commonly known as a chain email, and it reads:

Going back to old times with a recipe exchange! As the world is social distancing right now, many of us are experimenting in our kitchens to help pass the time. So you have been invited to be a part of a #QuarantineCooking recipe exchange!  Yay!

Please send a recipe to the person whose name is in position #1 (even if you don’t know them) and it should be something quick, easy, and without rare ingredients. Actually, the best one is the one you know in your head and can type right now.  Don’t agonize over it… It is the recipe you make when you are short on time.

After you’ve sent your recipe to the person in position #1 below (and only to that person), copy this email into a new email, move my name to the top, and put your name in position #2.  Only my and your name should show when you send your email. Send to 20 friends via BCC.

If you cannot do this within 5 days, let me know so it will be fair to those participating. You should receive 36 recipes. It’s fun to see where they come from!  Seldom does anyone drop out because we all need new ideas.

#QuarantineCooking Notable Student Recipes:

Bún chả recipe by Neomi Ngo

Prep time: 10 min (30 minute fridge time between prep and cook)

Cook time: 20 min

Serving Size: 3 – 4 people

Ingredients:

Pork Patties –

  • 1 lb ground pork (70% lean, 30% fat is best, but whatever you got will work!)
  • 1 shallot
  • 5 cloves of garlic
  • ¼ cup Hoisin sauce
  • 1 tbsp shredded ginger (optional)
  • 2 tbsp green onion
  • 1 egg
  • 2 tbsp cornstarch
  • 1 tsp chicken bouillon powder
  • 1/2 tsp salt
  • 1 tsp black pepper
  • ½ tsp white sugar

Fish Sauce- just mix everything together

  • 1 cup cold, filtered water
  •  ½ cup white sugar (yes, THAT much)
  •  2 cups fish sauce (preferably Viet Huong or Phu Quoc brand but whatever works)
  • 1/3 cup shredded carrots (optional)
  •  1 tbsp white cooking vinegar (optional)
  •  1 tbsp soy sauce
  • 2 tbsp chili garlic sauce (Huy Fong brand if ya got it, more or less depending on your how spicy you want it)
  •  ½ tbsp sriracha (optional)
  •  1 whole lemon (more or less depending on how sour you want it)

Directions:
Marinating the Pork Patties. Dice up 1 shallot and 5 cloves of garlic, shred and cut up 1 tbsp ginger, cut up 2 tbsp green onion. Throw the shallot, garlic, ginger, and green onion into a bowl with the ground pork, mix together. Add in 1 egg into the mixture, mix. Add in ¼ cup hoisin sauce. Add in 1 tsp chicken bouillon powder, ½ tsp salt, 1 tsp black pepper, ½ tsp white sugar. Add in 2 tbsp cornstarch, this is used to thicken up the mixture so that we can form the patties if your mixture is too loose to form patties, throw in a little more cornstarchFridge the marinated pork for 30 minutes! Pan Frying the Pork Patties Use your hands to form the patties, about palm size wide, about 1 inch thick. Depending on how crispy you want them, you can flatten them out more. Add about ½ inch of oil to your pan, we are pan-frying them, so you don’t need as much oil as frying. When the oil is hot enough, throw in meat patties, don’t overcrowd the pan! Pan fry on each side around 4-5 minutes, make sure the meat is FULLY COOKED. Repeat until all your patties are gone! Serve with rice or noodles, and dress with nuoc mam!

  • Crepes by Neomi Ngo
  • Chicken Delight by Jade Herbert
  • Garlic Salmon by Melvin Byrd III

The Invisible Survival Knapsack: Understanding the Privileged Realities that Remain in the Time of a Pandemic

Posted on by

Written by Eliza Tesch

Link to Original Article by Peggy McIntosh

Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack

For the purposes of this article we are looking at the academic work entitled “The Invisible Knapsack” by Peggy McIntosh.  In the words of McIntosh, “White privilege is like an invisible weightless knapsack of special provisions, maps, passports, codebooks, visas, clothes, tools, and blank checks. Describing white privilege makes one newly accountable.”

McIntosh invites the reader to think critically about the circumstances of their life as an offshoot of identities (race, gender, sexual orientation, socio-economic status, citizenship, level of ability, occupation, etc.) and establishes the ideas that all people have a variety of identities that influence their lived experience, having certain identities makes life more or less challenging, and these identities are not mutually exclusive (ie. black women experience both racism and sexism). This Pandemic has made the inequalities that exist in our society more evident than ever. Many people who have not had to face the realities that people from marginalized groups live every day are experiencing for the first time what it feels like to have larger systems control in a very tangible way what they can and cannot do and have a negative impact on their life.

We have taken the original “The Invisible Knapsack” and altered it to apply specifically to the COVID-19 pandemic. For this activity, I invite you to read through and answer the questions below and take some time to reflect on your responses. To further challenge yourself, think about what privileges (or lack of privilege) you personally have and how the Coronavirus has impacted this. Think about the experiences of others that are different from your own and the systems of oppression that are or aren’t at play here. How does this make you feel, and what can you personally do to combat this thing of oppression to create a more just world?

  1. I have access to a computer and internet
  2. I have a phone or other device that allows me to stay connected with my friends and the outside world virtually
  3. I have consistent access to food
  4. I have the ability to purchase a mask or mask making kit in stores or online
  5. I do not need to rely on public transportation to travel to the grocery store, the pharmacy, to seek out medical care, or to access other essential services.
  6. I have health insurance
  7. I am not currently worried about being able to pay my rent, utility bills, or afford food for my household.
  8. I have a safe home environment to shelter in place in.
  9. I do not experience physical, verbal, emotional, or psychological abuse from someone in my household
  10. If I got sick I know those around me would take care of me and help me access the support and medical care I need
  11. I have enough money saved up to support myself for six months without an income
  12. If I needed financial support I could rely on my family or those close to me to be in a stable enough financial position to help me out
  13. I live in a community where it is safe to go on walks for leisure/ exercise
  14. I do not work in the medical field, grocery stores, pharmacies, or in any essential service that puts me at risk of getting COVID-19
  15. I am currently being paid by my employer (whether that is for working from home or for hours I would have worked if it weren’t for COVID-19).
  16. I can afford to stock up on enough groceries to feed my family/ household for a week or longer so that additional trips to the store don’t need to be made
  17. I have a home that is comfortable for me and my household to remain in for weeks at a time.
  18. I have spent most of my time sheltered in place partaking in hobbies such as arts and crafts, video games, gardening, etc.
  19. I have enough extra money to buy non-essential items for fun and entertainment purposes
  20. I can spend time outside, but not in public because I have a backyard.
  21. My routine and circumstances allow me to stay 6 feet away from people at all times, or nearly all of the time.
  22. I am not immunocompromised, elderly, or have a health condition that makes me especially vulnerable to COVID-19
  23. I am not worried about being denied medical care due to being disabled, elderly, or an otherwise vulnerable person
  24. If I got sick I am reasonably sure that I am of an age and level of health that I would recover without complications
  25. I have not had medical or mental health care appointments cancelled due to COVID19 that are essential to maintaining my physical health or emotional wellbeing
  26. I do not have a mental health problem that has been exacerbated by COVID-19
  27. I have not faced insults targeted at me related to COVID-19 due to my race
  28. I can cover my face without fearing for my safety from law enforcement
  29. If I were to go see a medical professional they and their team would likely be of the same race as I am
  30. If I were to express illness to a medical professional I am reasonably sure they would believe me and treat me
  31. I am here in the US legally, and seeking out medical care or other forms of government related support would not put me at risk of being deported
  32. I am not descended from indigenous people and I do not carry the historical trauma of my ancestors having faced colonizer brought illness
GP: Coronavirus protesters St. Paul Minnesota Groups protest against the stay at home order in Minnesota

Right now there are conservative groups across the country protesting the corona virus shutdown both virtually in online spaces and movements and in-person protests and calling to “reopen America”. In the words of Fox News host Jeanine Pirro, “They want to keep us away from churches and synagogues. They want to make sure we don’t go back to work. They don’t get it. The American spirit is too strong, and Americans are not gonna take it.” Stephen Moore, an adviser to Trump’s Covid-19 economic recovery task force and a founder of a new group lobbying for a quick re-opening of the economy, Save Our Country, even went so far as to say “We need to be the Rosa Parks here,” he said, “and protest these government injustices” (Michael). The current Coronavirus situation has caused profound fear, suffering, and panic and resulted in the loss of more than 38 thousand lives. It has also resulted in Americans being laid off in droves, a serious hit to the economy and a current unemployment rate of 14.7%, the highest unemployment rate since 1940 (Lambert). The aforementioned right wing movements are protesting these circumstances and their loss of livelihood and security. This may possibly be the first time in their lives that they are experiencing what it feels like to have systems, which are much larger than them and are callous and unfeeling, put restrictions on what they can and cannot do and negatively impact their lives and their ability to provide for themselves and their families.

“Their invisible knapsack is no longer full.”

It is evident that those who have never before faced true oppression have no idea what it feels like to actually experience it. White wing groups claim that the conditions they are experiencing are unbearable and that they cannot live like this, after only having been restricted for a month or so to protect their health and safety during a deadly pandemic. Those who have faced true oppression because of race and gender and additional oppressions face it constantly for their entire lives. It is unbearable, but they have to bear it because there is no other option. It is an overwhelming force that suffocates and takes and takes. It is exhausting, it is consuming, and it can seem to those who experience it as if it is endless and inevitable. The freedoms that white right wing groups are asking for have been denied to people of color, who have been oppressed by systems for centuries. Ironically, often those same right wing groups, who are currently protesting injustice, are the same people who have and are still denying freedoms to people of color.

Coronavirus is killing people of color at rates that are far above other demographics. In New York city, Latinos make up 34 percent of Coronavirus related deaths. A CDC study of nearly 1,500 hospitalizations across 14 states reported that black people made up a third of the hospitalizations and 42 percent of the victims, even though they make up 18 percent of the population in the areas studied (Kendi). This is not a fluke accident. History is there for us to look back on, and when we do we see that this has happened time and time again. Communities of color are consistently hit hardest in national crises.

For those who are paying attention, there is a clear pattern of death and suffering and catastrophe around people of color. This is no fluke accident, as the systems are working as they were created to. For those who have not been paying attention it may seem as though the suffering and ills marginalized people are experiencing during this Coronavirus pandemic are unexpected or surprising. They may just now see systems of oppression at play, and comment on how visible Coronavirus makes them. For those who have lived these experiences and seen these systems at work now and previously, they have seen this very scenario play out over and over again in many different ways throughout time.

“Today Coronavirus is killing marginalized populations at high rates because the systems in our society do not value or protect their lives, and the people within those systems do not seem to care to prevent black deaths.”

Black people have been used historically as test subjects for medical research due to racist beliefs that their blackness makes them less than human, and this pattern continues today.  J. Marion Sims performed gynecological experiments on enslaved women and did not provide them with pain medicine because he believed that the experimentation was not “painful enough to justify the trouble”. It was suggested by Jean-Paul Mira, the head of intensive care at a French hospital that a Coronavirus vaccine be tested in Africa. An understandable lack of trust in the healthcare thing due to historical trauma has resulted in black people being less likely to seek out healthcare. Insurance and the financial expenses of healthcare also make it incredibly difficult for many people to access the medical care they need. Historically eugenics, the selective breeding of a population to achieve more desirable characteristics has been used to commit genocide on communities of color because their lives were and still are seen as being less valuable than white lives. Today Coronavirus is killing marginalized populations at high rates because the systems in our society do not value or protect their lives, and the people within those systems do not seem to care to prevent black deaths.

“We need to create a world devoid of invisible knapsacks.”

People in marginalized groups have lived through experiences that those who are privileged enough to not experience would find to be unbearable. The experience of this Coronavirus may seem to be unbearable, but it will end. People will come out of quarantine and go back to their lives and this experience which seems like a nightmare to many will be over. Oppression will continue, because systems of oppression will continue. They will continue to exist until we as a society can clearly see them for what they are and decide that they need to end and we take the steps to undo the layers and layers of racism, sexism, classism, ableism, and all others that plague our society. This current state of existence will continue until we as a society begin to value the lives of marginalized people enough to protect them, and even more than that create a world where people of color and all marginalized people are able to experience the justice and freedom that we are all promised. We need to create a world devoid of invisible knapsacks.

References

Kendi, Ibram X. “Stop Blaming Black People for Dying of the Coronavirus.” The Atlantic, Atlantic Media Company, 14 Apr. 2020.

Lambert, Lance. “Real Unemployment in the United States Has Hit 14.7%, the Highest Level since 1940.” Fortune, Fortune, 9 Apr. 2020.

McIntosh, Peggy. “White privilege: Unpacking the invisible knapsack.” (1988).

Michael. “Trump Fans Protest Against Governors Who Have Imposed Virus Restrictions.” The New York Times, The New York Times, 17 Apr. 2020, www.nytimes.com/2020/04/17/us/politics/trump-coronavirus-governors.html.