What a beautiful time
to be living and engaging antiracism work. You already know this. That’s why
you majored and minored in African American Studies. That’s why you’ve spent
the last four years reading difficult critical texts, writing papers, doing research.
If your family questioned your decision to study AF AM before March 2020, they
have been forced during the coronavirus crisis to confront injustices that are
foundational to our discipline, its literature and praxis. The pandemic has
revealed disparities in access and privilege across systems of health, housing,
employment, incarceration, farming, politics, and education. For example, as of
April 9, 100% of the Covid-19 deaths in St Louis were of African Americans[1].
This virus has
lifted a veil and this clarity is its gift to graduates like you. Unlike previous
graduating seniors, you won’t hear empty platitudes that your anxiety about the
future is “normal” and “it will all work out in the end.” No one will pretend
that structures undergirding our society always work. No one will argue when
you say black communities are at risk and treated as if they’re expendable. No one
will tell you with a straight face that security or stability are features of adult
life. Instead, you are graduating and walking
out into the world with your eyes wide open. Better yet, you are armed with
critical cultural knowledge that explains the current cruelties and collapse.
And this is true as well: There is still a lot of beauty during this pandemic. Have you noticed how many newborn babies there are? Just look around. And spring arrived this year, showing off as usual with her bright blooms. The wonderful details of being human remain. We still appreciate the scent of flowers, still laugh and dance. We will continue to fall in love, experience joy, suffer through sorrow. We are human. And while we acknowledge the distinction between “humanity” and “blackness” made by Afro-Pessimists, African American Studies also teaches that we have a responsibility to create a society that reflects and supports all humanity. Sometimes we understand this responsibility without directly experiencing or witnessing injustice. But sometimes it helps to have this experience. As our scholarship instructs, there is no imagining future liberation, nor creation of blues or jazz, without remaining in the hold of a slave ship[2].
Having
experienced society before Covid-19, you stand at a critical juncture that provides
important perspective. You will be able to explain how society operated before
the virus and what came afterwards. You will be able to describe the nature of
this pivot and whether it was just.
The easiest way to
explain what I’m trying to say is through metaphor.
Wyatt Hall
The other day I watched a video of a colleague and his family. In the video they are smiling as they roller skate in the Wyatt parking lot. They bask in sunlight. The mother skates and moves the baby’s stroller in loving arcs back and forth over the pavement. To someone unfamiliar with our campus before 2020, the video might seem self-evident. It shows a happy, black family. But if you were here on our campus in 2016 you might remember rumors that someone wrote in chalk in that parking lot, “Make America Great Again.” You might remember fewer faculty of color on campus at that time. If you’ve been teaching or working at Puget Sound since 2000 or before, you might recall a long list of racialized incidents that have caused harm to black and brown students, faculty, and staff. From that eagle-eyed perspective you would watch the video while holding the skating and past events in tension. You might think about the very complicated history ensconced in this place.
That’s the vision
you will possess as 2020 graduates in African American Studies. You’ve seen the
before and during. Soon you will witness the after. And you’ve studied the
scholarship and know our deep tradition. Congratulations on all you’ve learned
and accomplished. We look forward to the revolutionary work you will do.
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?
I have access to a computer and internet
I have a phone or other device that allows me to stay connected with my friends and the outside world virtually
I have consistent access to food
I have the ability to purchase a mask or mask making kit in stores or online
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.
I have health insurance
I am not currently worried about being able to pay my rent, utility bills, or afford food for my household.
I have a safe home environment to shelter in place in.
I do not experience physical, verbal, emotional, or psychological abuse from someone in my household
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
I have enough money saved up to support myself for six months without an income
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
I live in a community where it is safe to go on walks for leisure/ exercise
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
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).
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
I have a home that is comfortable for me and my household to remain in for weeks at a time.
I have spent most of my time sheltered in place partaking in hobbies such as arts and crafts, video games, gardening, etc.
I have enough extra money to buy non-essential items for fun and entertainment purposes
I can spend time outside, but not in public because I have a backyard.
My routine and circumstances allow me to stay 6 feet away from people at all times, or nearly all of the time.
I am not immunocompromised, elderly, or have a health condition that makes me especially vulnerable to COVID-19
I am not worried about being denied medical care due to being disabled, elderly, or an otherwise vulnerable person
If I got sick I am reasonably sure that I am of an age and level of health that I would recover without complications
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
I do not have a mental health problem that has been exacerbated by COVID-19
I have not faced insults targeted at me related to COVID-19 due to my race
I can cover my face without fearing for my safety from law enforcement
If I were to go see a medical professional they and their team would likely be of the same race as I am
If I were to express illness to a medical professional I am reasonably sure they would believe me and treat me
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
I am not descended from indigenous people and I do not carry the historical trauma of my ancestors having faced colonizer brought illness
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.
Written by Grace Eberhardt (originally published on The Public blog page)
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.
