Monthly Archives: April 2020

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

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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.

Private University Turns into a Public Park

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We all remember the call to action health officials and experts have expressed for all of us to do in response to the COVID-19; stay home and social distancing. The university, in response, has closed much of the facilities and minimizing the number of bodies on campus. The lack of student presence has been noticed and local folks have utilized the campus environment for their daily cardio activities, dog walks and is a playground for children — which shouldn’t be a surprise since the university is a beautiful sight that is routinely cleaned with enough space to do such activities. As more local folks come into this space, I couldn’t help but notice the demographic trend and, frankly, as an African American from Eastside Tacoma (the most diverse area in Tacoma) I was not surprised that most of the people who use this space during this pandemic are white people, it just speaks volume to the lack of diversity in North Tacoma.

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Although it is understandable that being cooped up at home creates an urge for movement and exercise outside and the university is the nearest place to do it, students living on campus, however, might find the number of residences amassing on campus troubling and fearful that the university could turn into a public place that could be prone to the virus– risking contact with large groups of people will exacerbate transmission of the Coronavirus. We have to be socially conscious of our actions and priorities, and the wellbeing of each other during this strange time — staying home as much as possible, even if you believe you are healthy and well when performed en masse, has the potential to decrease the rate of spreading the Coronavirus.

On the Flip Side, We Love Seeing Dogs On Campus from Afar…

  • Oliver is just beautiful!
  • He is a little shy but he loves spending time with his human.
  • Look how photogenic and majestic Suzie is!
  • There was actually a squirrel staring at him, so he stared back.

The Ups and Downs of Online Learning: A Perspective

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By: Isaac Sims-Foster

“How are you dealing with online class?” 

This seems to be the question every college-age conversation starts with these days. We’re all surely calling and Facetiming and Zooming with our friends across the country and the world, and always we wonder: How’s school going? 

My answer? I haven’t quite nailed my script for the question; I’m still in a phase where my answer is different every time. Some days, online class isn’t that bad. Without having to travel to campus, more free time makes it easier to balance productivity and leisure on these long quarantine days. I feel like social pressures look very different in an online classroom, where I’m much less concerned about disrupting class when I need to check my phone, use the restroom, or speak to someone. With more control over how I’m perceived, concerns about belonging and fitting in, or satisfying someone’s expectations, are relieved. This includes pressure from systemic racism and homophobia that I would usually encounter daily. I’m overall more comfortable at school in my own room, and I wonder if this is what it feels like to learn in a classroom meant for you. 

Other days, online class feels like it’s shattering my relationship with higher education. On the personal side, finding motivation and energy to stay attentive, ask questions, and keep up with assignments is already difficult enough as a young adult, as there’s so much else on your plate even under normal circumstances. In these traumatic times, it’s a disjointing and uncomfortable experience to be house/job hunting and spending hours on the phone with landlords, employers, and insurance agents, all the while knowing you have readings and papers due and still worrying for family and friends. Watching the news stories fly by, I realize that among this virus’ victims is the facade of the American Dream. Working-class hopes of a livable wage and a flat in a new city after graduating school are crushed under the pandemic and its ability to expose the most fatal flaws in our society, from disproportionate impacts on the Black community, to the atrocious practices of the prison-industrial complex. Absorbing it all day after day leaves me faithless, wondering how to sit down for another chapter of communication theory. 

As a student of communication, I wonder what toll the pandemic will have on our relationship to technology. I’m noticing that social interaction and face-to-face contact was a large and important part of my personal learning process, and in online chat rooms the process feels much less inviting and invigorating. This transition has felt like an abrupt switch from school being the most pressing thing on my mind to school slipping through the cracks of my to-do lists and quarantine chores. Maybe teachers with strict attendance policies are onto something after all– learning feels much harder without the presence and support of others, teachers or classmates.  

One thing is clear: online class is not business as usual. Puget Sound is proud of it’s intimate classroom sizes and ratio of professors to students. It’s proud of its hyperactive clubs and community involvement and connections. Remote classes remove these selling attributes entirely and call into question the satisfaction, and thus the price tag, of my education. Furthermore, it’s difficult to look inward at our Puget Sound community and dissect the ways this pandemic is affecting us while looking outward and wondering what can be done to help other students, families, and the groups most vulnerable. I stand in solidarity with all you other students who are experiencing your own privileges and penalties due to online classes. How is this transition uplifting and/or limiting you? How do you keep on learning?  

Covid-19 – A Thief

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Written by Grace Eberhardt

I was in the San Diego airport when I heard the news. Not the news that school would be virtual for the rest of Spring Semester, nor the news of my class of 2020 graduation being held virtually, but the news that the History of Eugenics Symposium was canceled. I couldn’t help but wail, tears profusely streamed down my cheeks as I struggled to take a breath. Covid-19 took something special from me, and that was only the beginning. 

“Professors emailed me for their condolences, friends reached-out to me, and every time I re-read the news of the Symposium’s cancellation, I cried even more.”


My University inbox was flooded with the word “CANCELED.” I must have read that the symposium was canceled from 5 different sources. Professor Johnson, who was heading the symposium, an official email to all those who registered to the symposium, the biology bulletin email, and the bioethics email-chain. Professors emailed me for their condolences, friends reached-out to me, and every time I re-read the news of the Symposium’s cancellation, I cried even more. I had already felt discouraged about the re-naming of the Slater Museum because of a campus-wide email that was sent in February about a naming Committee; six months after a co-signed email was sent, which suggested to President Crawford that we needed this Committee. This email I received in February gave no recognition to those who came forth with the idea, and, it read: “the Committee will not be asked to examine any specific named building” when in fact, the Symposium was here to confront a specific building name and the Committee was only created because of the questioning of the ethics of this specific building name: the Slater Museum of Natural History. Although the creation of this Committee was progress, it still felt as though it was moving “with all deliberate speed.”

“But nonetheless, the Covid-19 World Pandemic had finally affected a nation that tries so hard to distance themselves from the rest of the world–talk about social distancing.”

Timeline at the Slater Natural History Museum Without Mention of Eugenics (Photo Credit: Grace Eberhardt)

Once we came back from an “extended” Spring break, slowly but surely, our questions were answered. Yes, school would continue remotely for the rest of the school year, yes, graduation would be held virtually, yes, your meal plan can be re-funded, yes, credit-no-credit options are available for classes, yes, in-person graduation would be held in 2021, and no, there are no intentions of holding the class of 20 and class of 21 ceremonies separately. Not all the answers to these questions were what we wanted to hear, especially us, the class of 2020. But nonetheless, the Covid-19 World Pandemic had finally affected a nation that tries so hard to distance themselves from the rest of the world–talk about social distancing. The United States has finally been forced to confront the realities the rest of the world has faced, and luckily, we were able to learn from actions that the rest of the world had already taken. We saw our future in nations who were affected first, and our future seemed grim.  

Covid-19 has taken over much of my life, much of our lives. I sometimes wake up with my heart racing, practically being ripped out my chest as I try to collect myself. The hard reality that I would be completing my African American Studies Thesis virtually, the zoo study we were conducting in my Animal Behavior course was cut short when Point Defiance Zoo closed, and my work that had revolved around the naming of the Slater museum would come to a halt. But alas, we as people are strong and these enormously privileged tragedies I face are no comparison to the sharp peaks displayed on the news as we see Covid-19 surge nation-wide. 

“As the era of the World Pandemic continues to linger, so does our will to conquer these small-scale hardships.”

As a graduating senior heavily involved in the History of Eugenics Symposium, an African American Studies and Biology double-major who was hoping to leave a mark in how our University confronts our ugly past, and as a biology student of Color who was hoping to increase awareness of scientific maladies and in turn, provide a more welcoming environment to those who historically and presently endure racial inequalities in the sciences, Covid-19 seemed to take this all away. I am not trying to say that I would have solved all these problems in one 20 minute presentation, but rather, I was hoping the symposium would publicize these issues and spark conversation amongst the greater Puget Sound Community. That being said, in case you were wondering, yes, the Symposium will be turned into a permanent website with talks embedded in the site with the hopes of reaching even more people, conducting public scholarship ourselves. Although this virtual alternative may or may not have the same impact as the in-person Symposium, what else can we do? As the era of the World Pandemic continues to linger, so does our will to conquer these small-scale hardships.

Picture of the Hallways Outside of The Slater Natural History Museum at The University of Puget Sound (Photo Credit: Grace Eberhardt)

Grace Maria Eberhardt is a senior at the University of Puget Sound earning her Bachelors of Science in Biology and African American studies with an emphasis in bioethics. Her last year at the University of Puget Sound has proven to be integral in her approach to intertwining her two majors: Biology and African American Studies. Grace completed her 2019 summer research on the Slater Museum of Natural History: The History and Ethics of a Name, in which she asks if the name of the natural history museum on campus should be changed since Professor Slater taught eugenics well after the end of WWII. During the 2019-2020 winter break, Grace traveled with African American Studies course African Diaspora International Experience to Ghana for 3-weeks. This life-changing trip helped Grace better navigate her own racial identity and when she returned to the States, she was prompted to seek community in the sciences by regularly attending Visible Spectrum Meetings, an identity-based club for STEM students of Color.

Regard the Mountain: Remembering Logger Crew

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By Monica Schweitz, class of 2020

This article is dedicated to all senior athletes whose last season was cut short by the covid-19 pandemic.

“Regard the mountain.”

These are the words that my coach, Aaron Benson, would say whenever we rowed past Mt. Rainer during a particularly glorious sunrise on American Lake. Whether we were warming up, cooling down, or merely on a thirty-second pause between sprints, he never failed to remind us to stop, to breathe, to appreciate the beauty of the moment we have been given, and to be grateful.

It would be impossible for me to sum up in one little article all the ways that crew has fundamentally changed my life. So, I won’t attempt that. Instead, I want to take this space to acknowledge and be grateful for my experience. The purpose of this article, then, is to pause and simply recognize, appreciate, and celebrate Logger Women’s Crew. In other words, to regard the mountain.

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Logger women at Western Intercollegiate Rowing Association Championships (WIRA) 2019

Crew isn’t one of those sports that gets a lot of attention around campus, and though that has never necessarily bothered me, it has always confused me. Logger Women’s Crew has entailed getting up at 4:20 AM and pushing through twelve to fifteen kilometers of water before the sun comes up. Add afternoon lifting, workouts on the ergometer, and something called academics and the result is, in a word, exhausting. And in another word, badass. Rowing at our university is not something you do on a whim. Maybe you start on a whim freshman year, like I and so many others did, but you stick with it because, in the midst of the grueling practices, bloody hands, frozen backsplash, and burning legs and lungs, you realize that you have fallen in love with the sport and found your best friends.

“And when the coxswain makes my favorite call in her trademark growl-whisper, “it’s time to go,” you need to trust every woman in your boat to, with composure and relentless power, find that extra gear and just go.”

As a freshman coming from a competitive dance background, the concept of a team sport was totally lost on me. In rowing, you need your teammates to be at their best in order to achieve group success. You can (and should) be as competitive as you want with your teammates on the erg, but as soon as you get into the boat together, your fate is linked. Her success is your success, and your failure is hers. And when the coxswain makes my favorite call in her trademark growl-whisper, “it’s time to go,” you need to trust every woman in your boat to, with composure and relentless power, find that extra gear and just go. That’s why (and this is one of my favorite things about this sport) there is very little personal glory in rowing. You win together or not at all.

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WIRA 2019

This is not to say every day is a win. Sometimes, as with all things, there are external factors that negatively affect performance. During a rough practice, when everything seems to be going wrong, my coach always reminds us: just put your blade in the water and pull. You can’t control the speed of your opponent, you can’t control the weather or the wind, and you can’t really control the other women in your boat. The only things always in your control are your attitude and effort—getting the blade of the oar in the water and pulling on it hard. So, during one of those less-than-beautiful practices, when for some reason your lineup just isn’t clicking, you are
being stomped on by the other boat, and the head wind makes it feel like you are pulling through wet cement, we remember: put your blade in the water and pull. And it always helps.

This advice has never been more applicable to general life than it is right now. Speaking for myself, what is happening right now with covid-19 is one hell of a bad practice, like, the worst practice ever. For my teammates and I, the routine that gave us structure and stability and the pursuits that gave us purpose and identity have been taken away overnight and without warning. And none of it was in our control. Personally, the only way I’ve found to cope with the sudden loss of crew is to take it one day at a time and focus on what I can control: how I treat others and how I treat myself. If my teammates have taught me anything, it is that you need to treat yourself with grace in order to access your grit. No one ever achieved peak performance by berating themselves. Likewise, I’ve learned that riding out this crisis will only be possible if I remember to control what I can and be kind to myself about what I can’t, as hard as that may be.

“There’s really no feeling like it. The pure adrenaline of going toe-to-toe with another boat all the way down the course, daring each other to be better, to find the limit and break it, the feeling of all eight blades slinging through the water in perfect harmony, and hearing my coxswain growl my fellow seniors’ names, reminding me who I’m pushing through hell for”

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As incredibly difficult as the loss of crew is and will be for some time, the bonds of friendship, camaraderie, and trust that my senior teammates and I have built with each other is not something that goes away when you take away racing. We have compelled each other to be better versions of ourselves every day for the past four years. We have won, lost, and suffered together and that has made our friendships incredibly strong and resilient in the face of challenges. Nowhere is this better exemplified than in the last 500 meters of a 2k race, when everything in your body is telling you to stop, that you can’t breathe, that it hurts too much, and you must be dying. And just when it gets to be too much, the coxswain calls the sprint. There’s really no feeling like it. The pure adrenaline of going toe-to-toe with another boat all the way down the course, daring each other to be better, to find the limit and break it, the feeling of all eight blades slinging through the water in perfect harmony, and hearing my coxswain growl my fellow seniors’ names, reminding me who I’m pushing through hell for: Elena. Emily. Hannah. Jill. Katia. Katie. Leslie. Phoebe. Sarah. Monica. Louisa. And then steadily breaking through the other boat and taking the lead. There’s no greater feeling than that.

Except maybe when you cross the finish line and finally get to rest.

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Crossing the finish line after a 2k at WIRA 2018