Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza

Reflect before apologizing to your Black friends.

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It's Wednesday!

Our emails for the past week or so have been focused on structural racism: how public policies and institutional racism perpetuate racism in our society. But as we dive into those topics (and there are SO many more) it's also important to remember that racism exists on an interpersonal level, too, and upheld and perpetuated by how we treat one another.

As this lovely community has grown, a frequently asked question is how to have conversations around current events, or apologize for past harm, with friends who identify as Black. Although I can't speak for all Black people or the specific circumstances of your relationship, I can offer resources to contextualize how you approach this conversation. This is an updated version of an earlier newsletter from 6.8, which analyzed it only from a work lens.

Thank you to everyone that's financially contributing to make this possible – and ensuring this can always be free for those that aren't able. Consider 
investing one-time on Paypal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza) or monthly for this community to grow.

Nicole

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TAKE ACTION


If you identify as non-Black:

Reflect and respond to these questions below before you reach out to a Black friend / colleague:

What prompted me to reach out to this person?
What do I know about this person's emotional state right now?
What assumptions am I making?*
What burden am I putting on this friend I care about?*
Would I normally ask this question?*
Did I, say, wish this person a happy birthday?*
What would I do if they really aren’t okay?*


*These prompts are from Priska Neely's article Please Stop ‘Checking In to See If I’m Okay in The Cut.

If you identify as Black:

A kind reminder that you have no obligation to respond or engage with any harmful messages in your inbox right now.


GET EDUCATED


Over the past month, Black people have been bombarded with texts, calls, IG messages, emails, Slack messages, etc with apologies from white people (and other non-white POC) – apologies for the police brutality, for the collective awakening in society, and for past microaggressions or more overt forms of racism.  

Part of this is sparked by the apology train unfolding in our news. We've watched celebrities apologize for insensitive content in the past, like Jimmy Fallon (NYTimes) and Youtube personality Jenna Marbles (Forbes). White actors are stepping down from voicing Black characters on animated series (Glamour). It feels like every day there is a new, public, grand apology posted on Instagram or in a series of tweets coming across my newsfeed.

These public apologies make sense for celebrities with influence. They shine a public light on public examples of past harm. But when we look at apologizing or reaching out on an interpersonal level, I'm not sure the same rules apply. Acknowledging pain or harm in an interpersonal relationship is much more nuanced. And to fully understand it, we need to understand intent vs. impact, a concept critical to social justice work.

Unpacking intent vs. impact is a practice of decoupling our words and actions from how they impact other people. Oftentimes when addressing race, our words and actions don't land the way we intend, especially in times of deep emotional pain and trauma. And regardless of what we think we're doing, there's still harm in what we do. Or, as Rebekah aptly said in a blog post from January 2018, "if I punch you in the face on accident—you still got punched in the face". Although we can never be fully responsible for how someone responds, we need to get critical on how our impact can cause harm to people – especially when they are already in pain, and our intention is to acknowledge that pain without causing more. Watch this 2:30m video by Diverse City by Dr. Cheryl Ingram on the importance of intent vs. impact in diversity, equity and inclusion (Youtube).

Many people when causing harm tend to attach themselves to the intent side of the narrative. "I didn't mean to" is a common refrain. But that doesn't get us anywhere; acknowledging the impact is far more important. Let's circle back to our celebrity apologies, many acknowledge this in their own posts. Many use language like "although I didn't mean to, I realize now that my actions were harmful". It's as if, even in the apology itself, there has to be some semblance of innocence. And that can often get in the way of accountability. Stop holding onto your innocence so you can carry your culpability – otherwise, you're forcing a Black person to do it for you.

Today's action should help you do move from intention to impact, first by getting clear on what your actual intention is for reaching out. Are you actively willing and able to support your Black colleagues? Or, are you instead looking alleviate some guilt that you're feeling with the weight of this moment? Remember that it's not fair to alleviate your own guilt about current events and your own relationship with this work by reaching out to a Black person.  If that's your intention, you might want to consider how to take care of that outside your relationship.

The second is to understand what the impact of your outreach will be. Does your outreach add burden, or feel disingenuous? Does it directly benefit the Black person you're reaching out to? If you're checking in to see if someone is okay, are you in a position to actually support this person with their feelings? And if you're apologizing for past transgressions, how committed are you to continuing to learn and unlearn what brought that harm to begin with? I have a feeling you're committed if you're reading this newsletter! But important to note nonetheless.

And consider how your privilege may muddle the impact of your intent. When prompting a conversation with colleagues at work, note: are you their direct report, or in a higher role than them? Consequently, are you placing them in a space where they may feel forced to respond? Perhaps you can focus your intention instead on creating a safer work environment for your Black colleagues (inspiration via CNBC). Even more simply, are you reaching out during a time where you feel rested and healed, without acknowledging whether the other person in the conversation has had the same opportunity? Remember that your apology is likely to land in your friend's inbox on top of three more – does that change how you'd like to approach the conversation?

“Apologizing is the dual act of recognizing another’s humanity as sacred while also working to dismantle the internalized-ideologies that led you to dehumanize someone in the first place.”


Ciarra Jones in "The Violence of white (and non-Black PoC) Apologies" on Medium


As a Black woman writing this, I can't speak for all Black people. You can read through these reflections of the apologies and check-ins that many have experienced, and how they feel about them.

"So please, stop sending #love. Stop sending positive vibes. Stop sending your thoughts. Here are three suggestions on more immediately impactful things to offer instead."

Chad Sanders, I Don’t Need ‘Love’ Texts From My White Friends in the NYTimes

"So if this is the first time you’re asking me how I am, if this is the first time we’ve talked about my existence as a black person in America, you are definitely not the person I’m going to call if I’m not okay. And that is okay! It’s also the reason I don’t need you to check on me now."
Priska Neely, Please Stop ‘Checking In to See If I’m Okay in The Cut.

"If you're a white person, you want to try to understand how you might be feeling if you were in the kind of crisis that your black colleague or friend is in right now," she explains. "What would I want to hear?" Dr. Breland-Noble also points out that if they were really our friends — if they were really coworkers that we valued — we would always be coming from a space of trying to understand, whether in a crisis or not."
Elizabeth Gulio, Before You Check In On Your Black Friend, in Refinery29

"She wanted to make sure she was not creating an emotional burden for her friends, she said, but also that she was not missing an important moment to help if they needed anything. She settled on a simple rule: She would only check in with people of color she already interacted with on a daily basis before the protests, those who she felt would receive her message with a sense of relief and not as an additional burden."
Jose A. Del Real, 
White people are pouring out their hearts - and sending money - to their black friends in the Washington Post


KEY TAKEAWAYS


  • Although we can never be fully responsible for how someone responds, we need to get critical on our impact can cause harm to people, especially when they are already in pain

  • Read perspectives from Black people and others in different relationships when understanding intent v. impact in these conversation

  • Move into apologies with a full commitment to do the work to dismantle the preconceptions that got you here

  • Acknowledge how white guilt can often play a role in misconstruing intent, and causing negative impact

    PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT


Thank you for all your financial contributions! If you haven't already, consider making a monthly donation to this work. These funds will help me operationalize this work for greatest impact.

Subscribe on Patreon Give one-time on PayPal | Venmo @ nicoleacardoza

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Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza

Boycott as a form of protest.

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Happy Tuesday!

Thanks to all the fervor yesterday around the action for the day. If you're reading this, you didn't unsubscribe! Grateful to have you here in this work.

Many of you asked about the responsibilities of Twitter and Facebook for moderating the rhetoric Trump shares online, perhaps because of the recent Boycott Facebook movement. It's fascinating to see this unfold, especially because of how important boycotting has been as a form of protest during the civil rights movement. As boycotting goes digital, and many of us are forced to protest from inside, there's an interesting relationship between social media, boycotting, and holding brands accountable.

So we're diving in to understand the historical context, and how we can use our dollars and voice to demand change. If these newsletters are supporting you, considering giving 
one-time on PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe for $5/month on Patreon.

Nicole 

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TAKE ACTION


  1. Sign the petition to #StopHateforProfit to join the Facebook boycott.

  2. Choose a harmful brand you've financially supported in 2020. Decide to stop buying from them. Invest into a more equitable company – preferably a BIPOC and/or LGBTQIA+ owned business.


GET EDUCATED


Major brands – like Starbucks, Unilever, Ford, and Coca-Cola – are pulling their advertising revenue from Facebook as part of a coordinated boycott (more via NYTimes). The #StopHateforProfit boycott, organized by the Anti-Defamation League (which I pointed to as a resource in yesterday's newsletter), encourages brands to pause their ad spend for the month of July, and lists ten actions for Facebook to take to improve how they handle racism on their platform (learn more, including a list of all participating brands, on the official website.

The major tech companies, including Facebook, have often cited "free speech" regarding hateful rhetoric. But things changed when Trump tweeted a series of incendiary tweets in late May in response to the George Floyd protests including the phrase "when the looting starts, the shooting starts," a term popularized by a chief of police in Miami referring to how to treat protestors in the midst of civil unrest in 1967, and considered to incite racial violence for years to come. Walter E. Headley was known for his "bigotry" and also said "we don't mind being accused of police brutality" (NPR). 


“There is only one way to handle looters and arsonists during a riot and that is to shoot them on sight. I've let the word filter down — when the looting starts, the shooting starts”.

Walter E. Headley, the police chief of Miami, Florida in 1967 (Source)


Twitter – after years of calls to address Trump's tweets (example on Vox) – had just started to take action, marking tweets about mail-in voting during coronavirus as "potentially misleading" just days before (The Verge). In this case, they decided to shield the public from Trump's tweet's contents, warning that it invokes violence, but allowing users to click through and read it (The Verge). Trump posted this message on Facebook, too, but Facebook chose to do nothing, angering staff and causing walk-outs internally before tensions bubbled to today (MSNBC).

As a result, other tech companies have followed suit. After a public letter from over 650 subreddit leaders (The Atlantic), Reddit removed 2,000 hateful communities, including r/The_Donald, which promotes racism, anti-Semitism, conspiracy theories, and violent memes (The Atlantic). After encouraging racial profiling on its platform, neighborhood social media app Nextdoor removed a feature that allowed users to forward crime and safety posts from within the app to the police (NYTimes). YouTube banned white supremacists David Duke, Stefan Molyneux, and Richard Spencer – along with 25,000+ channels that violate hate speech policies (NY Post).

Facebook makes an estimated $70B each year on advertising – 98% of its annual revenue – particularly from small and medium-sized businesses, so it's unlikely this boycott will bankrupt them. But the lost revenue, especially during COVID-19, where many smaller businesses are cutting marketing budgets, caused Facebook stock to drop by 8% Friday (Bloomberg News) which caused Mark Zuckerberg to release a short statement and changes on Friday, June 26 (which wasn't well-received) (Slate). 

It's important to note here that boycotts against corporation send a moral and financial message. Most businesses can tune out questions on morality. But money? Feelings on current events can be discarded as subjective, but cash is objective. And boycotts harm brand reputations, which have a much more lasting impact than short-term revenue loss. According to research by Brayden King at Northwestern University, most companies are worried enough about their reputations that they’ll change their behavior, even if the number of people partaking in the boycott is rather small (The Atlantic).

“It takes years and years to build a reputation, it takes one bad event to completely destroy that reputation”.

– Brayden King, Professor at Northwestern’s Kellogg School of Management

Boycotts have deep roots in our fight for justice. Many people remember the story of Rosa Parks, who was arrested for refusing to give up her seat on a bus in Montgomery, Alabama, to a white male passenger. But the Montgomery Bus Boycott that followed was key to creating lasting reform. The Women’s Political Council, a group of black women working for civil rights, circulated flyers calling for a boycott of the bus system on December 5, the day Parks would be tried in municipal court. This, followed by a front-page article from the local paper, rallied 40,000 people to boycott the bus system that day (History).

And for 381 days following, thousands of African Americans continued to boycott the buses, organizing carpools and relying on African American taxi cab drivers who'd charge the same bus fare for rides (History). Initially designed to convince the bus system – whose passengers were 75% Black – to create more equitable rules, the movement led to five women bringing the case to court. By June 5,1956, the Montgomery federal court ruled that any law requiring racially segregated seating on buses violated the 14th Amendment (History). The bus company lost 30,000 and 40,000 bus fares each day of the boycott and was desperate for it to end (more via nps.gov).

Local and national boycotts of the past decade have thrived because of social media (take the #BoycottNike situation in 2018, and #DeleteUber in 2017). So it's unprecedented to see social media being boycotted. But necessary. Because social media has become our digital neighborhood during this global pandemic. Most Americans get their news from social media (Quartz) and that news is more likely to be inaccurate (Pew Research Center). If social media is the soil of this generation's revolution, it needs to be a space where true change can grow. And that takes accountability for how people can use social media to spread racist and hateful messaging.

“Many Americans have spent months inside, on the internet, thinking about what it means to live online. Now many of them are in the streets, thinking about how to tackle racism. More than ever, it’s obvious that the internet is the real world. What happens here matters. What happens here happens out there”.

Kaitlyn Tiffany, staff writer at The Atlantic

So the question remains – should I be boycotting Facebook right now? Deactivating your account is unlikely to move this boycott forward. In fact, it may disconnect you from information and actions you can take in your local community, and the people you should be having conversations with. I'd recommend using it to stay in this work.

Instead, think about how you can boycott brands that are causing harm with your own dollars (like by supporting these Amazon warehouse workers calling for change). And remember that 99.7% of businesses in America are small businesses (via sba.gov). How can you put your money to work in your own community? And not just by divesting from harmful brands – but re-investing in the brands that work for you and the rights of all people. Lastly, make your reasons known by sharing publicly on social media, or sending a private message to the company (or both).


PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT


Thank you for all your financial contributions! If you haven't already, consider making a monthly donation to this work. These funds will help me operationalize this work for greatest impact.

Subscribe on Patreon Give one-time on PayPal | Venmo @nicoleacardoza

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Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza

Don't vote for Trump.

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Happy Monday,

Our president tweeted a video with the words "white power" in it, and somehow – after everything – I still can't believe it. So we're talking about it in today's newsletter: the history of the white power movement, its rise over the past few years, and the racist rhetoric Trump is pushing during these revolutionary times.

I encourage you to read today's newsletter and be in inquiry on how we often minimize or justify racist rhetoric. It might be easier to call it out when Trump says something, but not our beloved uncle at the dinner table. How do you make justifications for racist things people close to you may say?

If these newsletters are supporting you, considering giving 
one-time on PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe monthly on Patreon – just like a newspaper subscription.


Nicole 

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TAKE ACTION


  1. Don't vote for Trump.

  2. Consider joining #DefeatbyTweet, an initiative where you can donate $0.02 every time Trump tweets (about $18/mo) to Justice Fund, a group of Black-led grassroots political organizations working in swing states to get people to vote.

  3. Have a conversation with a Trump supporter you know about this newsletter.

GET EDUCATED


On Sunday, June 28 President Trump retweeted (and deleted) a video of a Trump supporter yelling "white power," thanking the "great people" in the footage (via NPR). After the tweet was deleted, White House spokesman Judd Deere released a statement that “President Trump is a big fan of The Villages [the community where the video was filmed]. He did not hear the one statement made on the video. What he did see was tremendous enthusiasm from his many supporters" (via AP News).

Before we start, I need to make one thing clear: President Trump is racist. This is not up for debate in my inbox. Whether he has deep seated beliefs that white people are the superior race, incites racism solely for his political agenda, or is consistently unintentionally racist makes no difference to me, and when it comes to this work, it shouldn't to you. These types of arguments center Trump's character instead of the social and political harm he creates. And as we discussed in an earlier newsletter, impact, not intent, needs to be our focus as we dismantle white supremacy. He is also bigoted, sexist, islamophobic, homophobic, and xenophobic (to name a few) and the intersectionality of these often come into play in his rhetoric. There is no anti-racism work that includes voting for Trump in 2020.

The aforementioned tweet follows a series of hateful commentary and actions from Trump over the past few weeks – and frankly, the past few years – which feel in strict defiance of the movement reshaping our nation. Remember that feelings on racism are rapidly shifting left in America (NYTimes)! Meanwhile, just over half of America considered him racist back in 2019 (USA Today). Here's a running list of Trump's hateful commentary since the 1970s (Vox).

I don't want to say that one comment is "worse" than another, because they're all bad. But sharing and thanking someone for saying "white power" is egregious. The term "white power" is a popular phrase used by white supremacists, or people that believe that white is the dominant race and should have power over other races (more via ADL).

Side note: the Anti-Defamation League has a glossary of definitions on terms you'll see reflected here and in the articles I've referenced. Read more >

The slogan was chosen a counter-rally to the term "Black power," a positive phrase used by activists during the Civil Rights Movement. It united not just those uncomfortable with Civil Rights Act of 1964, but the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965 (Southern Poverty Law Center). But the white power movement grew to become not just a racially-motivated organization, but a politically-motivated one too. Kathleen Belew, author of The White Power Movement and Paramilitary America, cites that the Vietnam War was a major motivator to organizing and activating this group against one enemy – the government.

Remember that up to this point, the government favored racist policies – and actually needed these vigilantes "to reinforce official policies like slavery and Jim Crow" (NYTimes). It was a threat that the country was adopting more equitable views, and providing more power and privileges to non-white communities. 

This group took arms against the government in smaller, isolated incidents, but culminated in the 1995 Oklahoma City Bombing, when Timothy McVeigh, Terry Nichols and other ani-government racists parked a truck of explosives under the day care of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, killing 168 people – including 19 children – and leaving hundreds more injured (History). The Oklahoma City bombing was "the worst terrorist attack to take place on U.S. soil" until 9/11. The youngest survivor of the attack is 26 years old, and his family reflects on the experience in The Buffalo News.

"
Ideologies are sometimes not just ideologies. They result in awful actions and we need to be vigilant about that.

Dennis Purifoy, survivor of the Oklahoma City Bombing for the NYTimes

And violent acts of white supremacy continue. It inspired Dylann Roof in 2015 in South Carolina, and James Alex Fields Jr. in Virginia in 2018 (read about both of these murders in our newsletter re: Confederate symbols). A Coast Guard lieutenant and "self-defined white nationalist" was charged in 2019 for stockpiling weapons and planning to start a race war (NYTimes). 22 people were killed at a Walmart in El Paso, TX by a white supremacist against immigration (Axios). In 2019, a U.S. State Department report named that racially and ethnically motivated terrorism from white supremacists is “on the rise and spreading geographically" (Forbes).

Today's protests and the pandemics may have sparked urgency for white supremacists (examples via The Nation). And several cities have questioned whether white supremacists have been intentionally disrupting the protests from the past month, inciting violence and looting (examples from NBC ChicagoNYTimes and CBS News). Regardless if they are, the unrest aligns with an important white supremacist concept called "accelerationism" – inciting and encouraging violence to draw more people into a war (Brookings).

Which is why there is no justification for the racist rhetoric Trump shares. Inciting violence and terror as a president encourages others to repeat the violence and terror of our past. And I'm not sure that will Make America Great Again for anyone other than those that identify as white. 

KEY TAKEAWAYS


  • Trump has a long history of hateful and racist rhetoric

  • "White power" is the rallying cry for white supremacists

  • Racially and ethnically motivated terrorism from white supremacists is on the rise

  • There is no anti-racism work that includes voting for Trump in 2020


Thank you for all your financial contributions! If you haven't already, consider making a monthly donation to this work. These funds will help me operationalize this work for greatest impact.

Subscribe on Patreon Give one-time on PayPal | Venmo @nicoleacardoza

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Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza

Understand disparities in healthcare treatment.

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It's Sunday, so we're continuing our weekly series that analyzes the racial disparities exposed by COVID-19. I hoped this series would feel like old news after a while because I was hopeful COVID-19 rates would decline.

But, as we watch some states reach their all-time highs, it's clear that this global pandemic is here to stay. Which also means that unless more action is taken, the disparities in testing and treatment will persist. Today we isolate these differences and how they've been pervasive in our healthcare system for decades.

Consider investing to keep these daily emails going. You can give 
one-time on PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe monthly on Patreon – just like a newspaper subscription.

Nicole 

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TAKE ACTION


  1. See if your city or state has an equity task force to support those most vulnerable in your community. If not, contact your local officials to ask why.

  2. Sign the petition from the Black Lives Matter movement demanding the collection and release of more racial demographic data related to COVID-19: https://blacklivesmatter.com/demand-racial-data-on-coronavirus/

GET EDUCATED


Racial disparities in treatment started well before COVID-19.
 

Note: This is our third installation of the series analyzing how systemic and interpersonal racism impacts the disproportionate impact of COVID-19 on communities of color. As we focus on disparities in treatment today, it's important to remember that this is not the sole, singular issue causing disparities of COVID-19. And although we're looking at in isolation for the sake of this newsletter, solving it alone won't solve everything. I say this not to be pessimistic, but to emphasize how pervasive and interconnected racism is in all aspects of our society. It's recommended you read our previous emails in the series:

Racism as a public health crisis
Protect essential workers

Understanding the full scope of the impact of COVID-19 was greatly limited in disproportionate access to testing. And although state and city–level data on COVID-19 and racial / ethnic backgrounds varies widely, initial reports are clear. In NYC, two-thirds of the 30 ZIP codes with the highest rates of testing were either whiter or wealthier — and frequently both — than the city average population (via NYPost). NPR found that testing sites are disproportionately found in white neighborhoods in 4 of the 6 biggest cities in Texas (via NPR). Initial rollouts of the partnership between the Trump administration and major drugstores (Walgreens, CVS, Target and Walmart) was also inequitable: out of the 63 sites, only 8 were in Black neighborhoods (via Vox). Inequitable testing doesn't just prevent individuals from quarantining and caring for themselves more difficult. It prevents local governments and healthcare providers from adequately preparing for a spike in cases, leaving the system weakened based on this lack of information.

Beyond testing, many cases of disparities in treatment are causing people to die, evident in stories like this Deborah Gatewood (via Blavity) and Jason Hargrove (via Time) in Detroit, two Black frontline workers that were both turned away from the hospital multiple times before dying of COIVD-19 at home. These stories are especially unsettling to read because in Michigan, 40% of the people that have died from COVID-19 are Black, although only consisting of 14% of the population (via Michigan state COVID-19 data). But these stories aren't unique to Detroit, like the stories of Reginald Relf (via NYTimes), Gary Fowler (who was never officially tested for COVID-19) (USA Today), and Rana Zoe Mungin (via UMass). 

But treatment disparities, too, have a deep history. One study of 400 hospitals in the U.S. showed that black patients with heart disease received older, cheaper, and more conservative treatments than their white counterparts. Black people were also less likely to receive coronary bypass operations, and discharged earlier from the hospital than white patients—at a stage when discharge is inappropriate (via American Bar).

“Race doesn’t put you at higher risk. Racism puts you at higher risk.”

Camara Phyllis Jones, epidemiologist and family physician in Scientific American

If you spend time on social media, you may have seen the viral TikTok video by Oregon-based OBGYN Dr. Jennifer Lincoln where she talks about the differences in care (watch video and learn more on Buzzfeed). In it, she states that "a 2016 study showed that 50% of medical students and residents who were studied thought that Black people couldn't feel pain the same way because they had thicker skin or their nerves didn't work the same way," which surprised many, but is absolutely true (read the full study here). The study makes the claim that these perceptions are likely to influence how doctors support pain management for Black people, which was also noted in the study (via American Bar).

Note: The video goes on to discuss how these false perceptions are rooted in the days of slavery. We'll discuss this in depth in another newsletter, but this NYTimes article is a powerful explanation of how physical racial difference between Black people and white people were used to justify enslavement.

These points illuminate that disparities in healthcare aren't just caused by structural factors, but individual ones as well. The study stresses that the implicit biases of physicians and health care providers are a contributing factor to these differences in treatment. And when physicians were given the Implicit Association Test (IAT)—a test that purports to measure test takers’ implicit biases by asking them to link images of black and white faces with pleasant and unpleasant words under intense time constraints—"they tend to associate white faces and pleasant words (and vice versa) more easily than black faces and pleasant words (and vice versa)" (American Bar).

You can take the test for yourself for free on the Harvard website, but know that it's not designed to be an individual assessment (via Vox). I recommend taking the test more to understand what implicit bias is, and how the aggregated data can inform research.

The CDC updated their recommendations for supporting racial and ethnic minorities to include implicit biases, citing that healthcare providers should "provide training to help providers identify their implicit biases, making sure providers understand how these biases can affect the way they communicate with patients and how patients react" (quote from CDC websiteinsight from NYTimes).

As Congress works to pass a bill creating a federal task force to address COVID-19's disproportionate impact (via Kamala Harris' website), cities across the country have started to implement their own health equity task forces (see work from BostonNYCHouston and Michigan). But is it too little too late? Even if testing locations can grow to keep up with demand, and be placed in accessible locations for everyone, implicit biases may not be able to be solved in just a training or workshop. However, as the devastating impact of COVID-19 persists, we can only hope this critical attention will help to combat the scope of its impact on marginalized communities.

There are countless other examples of disparities in healthcare treatment in specific contexts – like maternal health and traumatic brain injuries, for starters – that we will unpack in future newsletters.

KEY TAKEAWAYS


  • Existing disparities in our healthcare system exacerbate how we test and treat COVID-19 for specific populations

  • These disparities are structural and individual, showing that our relationship to racism at all levels influences how we can take care of those most marginalized

  • Efforts are underway, but it's unclear if it's enough to combat the rampant spread of the disease

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT


Thank you for all your financial contributions! If you haven't already, consider making a monthly donation to this work. These funds will help me operationalize this work for greatest impact.

Subscribe on Patreon Give one-time on PayPal | Venmo @nicoleacardoza

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Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza

Reflect on these questions from the past week. 

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Hi!

There was an outpouring of questions over this week, so I'm dedicating Saturday emails to answering them. It will also offer a helpful refresher of topics discussed in earlier newsletters, so we can revisit some key topics you may have missed from the past.

Thanks to you, we'll have another writer helping me starting next week! Give 
one-time on PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or you can subscribe monthly on Patreon like you'd subscribe to any other news platform.

Simply reply to any email to submit a question. I try to read all responses, even if it takes me a few days! And as always, your support is so appreciated.

Nicole 

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TAKE ACTION


A few things to remember!

  • I'm more of an anti-racism practitioner, not an educator. I curate current events and news, apply historical contexts, and plug in personal anecdotes from myself or guest editors. It's why I note trends and offer resources from others, but don't do coaching, consulting, or courses. I offered some educators you can learn that from in question #3. You can learn more about me here and here.

  •  Racism is political. Some of you question whether I'm using this email to push political agendas. I'm here to push anti-racist agendas. But our political system upholds systemic racism. It's as much political as it is interpersonal. So I'll be sharing political CTAs, talk about the election, and name our current President's racist agenda often.

  •  Work in protest. Many of you are new and don't know that I started this just three weeks ago in response to the protests! Thanks to your support, I'm hiring our first staff member, but until now it's just been me waking up at 3a in Alaska to write these and deliver each am. So there's often typos because I'm not ahead of the schedule enough for proofreading (despite all of your lovely offers). But I'm getting there, so the content will improve – and I might take you up on your offers. And I'm adding updates and clarifications over on the archives where I mess up.


If "defund the police" is too radical, what can we re-brand it as?
From Defund the police – beyond the slogan sent June 23

Unfortunately, I'm not in advertising anymore so I couldn't say. But I do think diluting the slogan itself may dilute the work that's necessary. Defund the police does mean defund the police, even if it doesn't account for all the important work that follows. I think what will be helpful for us to do is advocate for defunding law enforcement as we advocate for investing in other community care. That will likely look different for local communities, so this shift will be critical for making the movement feel attainable at home.

And the "defund the police" movement has been in place for a long time before it became mainstream (more via Politico). We're not doing the work justice when we try to shy behind the depths of its words. 

Action: See what policies are in place for defunding the police in your local community, and how you can best advocate for its impact.

Do we capitalize "brown" when referring to "brown people"?
From Capitalize B in Black and I in Indigenous sent June 25

Brown, another racial classification that colloquially acts as a catch-all for the multitudes of identities that don't fall under "Black" and "White" wasn't mentioned by the AP Style Guide or in any of the articles I referenced. I see this term used interchangeably with "people of color," another catch-all term, which was added and clarified in the AP Style Guide in 2019 (via ACES Editors). It isn't my place to say that it should be used interchangeably because self-identification is important and everyone can choose what they prefer.

I imagine that, based on the arguments outlined by people in favor of capitalizing Black, Brown should be capitalized too, considering people of darker skin colors that aren't Black also often suffer from systemic racism. And, if you prefer to capitalize Black and White to signify them both as races, Brown should be the same. This is just my personal opinion, and I'll keep an eye out for more conversations as they unfold. 

Action: Apply the same rules. Also, try to get as specific as possible when referring to communities you're writing about. Ask them to self-identify wherever possible.


I've been told that, as a white person, asking a Black person to educate me on racism is upsetting and offensive. Can you clarify on that?
General question.

This question is a bit meta – a couple people asked me about asking questions to a Black person that's sharing resources on anti-racism, after all! And I appreciate that each of you that asked thoughtfully and with nuanced consideration.

Generally speaking, asking Black people to support you (as a non-Black person) on understanding racism is a no-go. It places additional labor on Black people that are already burdened with the weight of racism and the deep emotions of the events unfolding. And, non-Black people often go to Black people as if they're Google without taking the effort to learn it themselves, which feels like a lack of accountability. More perspectives on this in The Washington Post and Fortune Magazine. 

And part of this is because there are so many places where Black people are sharing anti-racism resources! You can learn from incredible anti-racism scholars like Rachel CargleRachel RickettsLayla F. Saad, and Austin Channing, find a list of books, podcasts and movies on racism in every publication, etc, like this one from Fortune, and sign up for newsletters like this one! Hi 👋🏾

I invited people to ask questions here because I know 99.9% of readers are already here doing the work, and committed to learn more. I've set up time and space in my life to hold space for this, and I have the capacity to answer whatever questions I choose to answer. But most Black people that get asked questions from non-Black people around racism aren't given that choice. They're just trying to live, and they don't live in service to white people – not anymore.

A helpful resource on this may be Reflect before reaching out to your Black colleagues. that I sent June 8.

Action: Ask questions to those that are offering to support. Do not ask Black people to help you understand racism in unprompted settings.


Why is it important to edit those standard emails that we're sometimes asked to send to our senators in the daily actions?
From Face the bias in facial recognition software. sent June 26

Ah! This is helpful to know for whatever change you're looking to make in your local community. It's easy for tech-savvy politicians to set up filters in their inbox to send some emails straight to spam. For example, I auto-filter any email with the subject including "automatic reply" out of my inbox for this newsletter, because so many of our subscribers are out of office for whatever reason.

When you are prompted to send an email, changing the subject and the body text is recommended so your email lands in the inbox itself, instead of getting lost in these filters. Even if your email isn't read or responded to, it is more likely to be seen and felt by the politician and their team.


What are we calling this anti-racism movement right now?
General question.

I don't know if there's been an official term to call this movement right now – if you see one, let me know. It's certainly a part of the Black Lives Matter movement that's been sweeping the nation for decades (more on its impact in the NYTimes). But I personally think that we're seeing the beginning of a reckoning that will be more widespread, focus on more marginalized people than just the Black community, and bring not just reform but abolition in my lifetime. The Civil Rights Movement lasted over 20 years (via History.com) and although we've been in this work for a while, I have a feeling this wave has only just begun as we grapple with a global pandemic, environmental crises, and what's sure to be a tumultuous election regardless of outcome.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT


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Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza

Face the bias in facial recognition software. 

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Happy Friday,

I'm fascinated with the intersection of equity and technology, so I've been following today's topic for a few years. It illuminates how racism thrives not just in the systems we build, but the technology we build, too. And even if these technologies were completely unbiased, we can still wield them as tools or weapons to pursue misguided agendas.

Today looks at another example of harmful policing and the political implications, but I hope it also encourages you to take a second look at your smartphone, your laptop, and your favorite apps, and consider: who was this built for? How does it help or hurt this movement?

Tomorrow will be a Q&A email so send in your requests. And your support makes these email possible! You can contribute 
one-time on Paypal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza) or give monthly on Patreon to keep these going.

- Nicole

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TAKE ACTION


  1. Sign the petition banning law enforcement from using facial recognition. (The bill referenced on the petition is this one, which I discuss at the end of this email).

  2. Learn how facial recognition is being used in your local community. Here is a map with countless examples across the U.S.

GET EDUCATED


Let's face the facts: Facial recognition software is biased.
 

Facial recognition software has been struggling to save face for a while. So it wasn't a good look that when week – in the midst of the protests, no less – the ACLU accused the Detroit police office with what they're calling the first known wrongful arrest involving facial-recognition technology. 

Robert Williams was arrested in his driveway and detained for 30 hours under suspicion of theft. Images of the suspect, stealing from a watch store in downtown Detroit, were run through facial recognition software, and Robert Williams was a match. It wasn't until officers interrogated him that they realized his faces didn't match the pictures – at all. Read more on CNN Business >

It might not be surprising to know that Robert Williams is Black. If you've been following the facial recognition conversation over the past few years, you might have guessed from the beginning. Because there have been dozens of studies that show that facial recognition software can be disproportionately inaccurate when it tries to identify Black people and other people of color.

Joy Buolamwini, a researcher at the M.I.T. Media Lab and founder of the Algorithmic Justice League, published one of the first comprehensive studies on facial recognition bias in 2018 after her firsthand experience (more via the NYTimes). The study found that software was much more likely to misidentify the gender of Black women than white men. Her work, including her popular Ted Talk, paved the way for larger discussion on the flaws of facial recognition.

“Facial recognition is increasingly penetrating our lives, but there is still time to prevent it from worsening social inequalities. To do that, we must face the coded gaze.”

Joy Buolamwini in her op-ed for the NYTimes


More reports were quick to follow, include one from the National Institute of Standards and Technology that found that African American people were 10 to 100 times more likely to be misidentified than Caucasians, and the Native American population had the highest error rates. (Full study on the NIST website). It also found that women were more likely to be misidentified than men. The elderly and children were more likely to be misidentified than those in other age groups. Middle-aged white men generally benefited from the highest accuracy rates (via Washington Post). Another study by UC Boulder found that facial analysis services are also "universally unable to classify non-binary genders" (Eureka Alert).

A main reason for these discrepancies is that facial recognition software can only be as smart as the data that feeds it. And most facial recognition training data sets are estimated to be more than 75% male and more than 80% white (Brookings). Unsurprisingly, the lack of diversity in tech also means that there are few women or people of color that are on the teams building this software, and increasing representation is likely to create a more equitable product (USA Today).

Have you tried opening your iPhone while wearing a face mask, and have it not work? That type of facial recognition error is simply a slight annoyance. But consider its application in policing, especially knowing the systemic racism persistent without the use of technology. And then consider that other algorithms used in criminal justice are also biased, like this algorithm that tries to assess the likelihood of future crimes (via ProPublica). I don't think we need another way to discriminate against those systemically marginalized. More on the dangers of policing in this article in The Week >

And its applications extend beyond just dangerous policing to nearly everything we do. It's being used to monitor fans at concerts (the Guardian), authorize us at the airport (Medium), and even as security in schools (Edweek). It's also not just a tool, but a weapon: the stories of the Chinese government using advanced facial recognition technology to track and control the Uighurs, a Muslim minority, is bonechilling (NYTimes).

Even if you haven't seen the news around facial recognition software, it's likely seen you: over half of all Americans are in a law enforcement face recognition network (via Georgetown Law). So the next time the police run a grainy photo of a suspect in a robbery, they could arrest you in their place.

The Facial Recognition and Biometric Technology Moratorium Act of 2020, a federal bill announced yesterday, is a step to introduce federal regulation to ensure the safety of everyone, particularly those systemically marginalized, even going so far as divesting funds from law enforcement that uses it inappropriately. Read more on The Verge >


“Facial-recognition technology doesn’t just pose a grave threat to our privacy, it physically endangers Black Americans and other minority populations in our country. As we work to dismantle the systematic racism that permeates every part of our society, we can’t ignore the harms that these technologies present.”

– Oregon Sen. Edward Markey via Fortune Magazine


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Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza

Capitalize B in Black and I in Indigenous.

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Hi all,

Today's newsletter looks at how language wields power, and how quickly our language is changing based on the movement of the past few weeks. I particularly liked writing this one because, as someone that's always defined herself as Black, I didn't know the grammatical and historical context of the terms below. I love that reclaiming something as simple as a capital letter can carry so much pride, belonging, and historical significance. 

ps – your support makes these email possible! You can 
donate one-time on Paypal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza) or give monthly on Patreon to keep these going.

- Nicole

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TAKE ACTION


Capitalize the B in Black when using in reference to a person or group of people

Understand the cultural difference between "African American" and "Black" and use correctly. If you must, use "Black" if referring to a Black person and you are unclear of their background.

GET EDUCATED


Capitalizing to signify respect.

Last Friday (on Juneteenth) the Associated Press announced that it was updating its style guide to capitalize the "B" in "Black" and "I" in "Indigenous", a decision that came after several news outlets changed their own standards in the past few weeks to signify respect and understanding in the wake of the protests.

Although the difference between a capitalized letter may seem harmless, it carries weight. Our language carries power, and, according to Lori Tharps, an associate professor of journalism at Temple University, "influences how we validate, or invalidate, identity". And with Black there's history with how we have been perceived in the press. W.E.B DuBois fought in the 1890s for the term "negro," which was commonly used at the time, to be written as "Negro," considering all other racial and ethnic identifiers were already being written in uppercase. As the word negro phased out in the mid-1960s and was replaced with "black," the conversation restarted to continue to add respect to the term that identifies a community of people systemically marginalized because of the color of their skin. You can read more about the historical significance here >

Both terms Black and Indigenous represent distinct communities with shared cultures and experiences that differ from dominant culture, or whiteness. According to Sapiens, capitalizing Indigenous helps to "articulate the common challenges they faced as communities impacted by colonialism, settler governments, displacement, and exploitation." Similarly, capitalizing Black signifies "an essential and shared sense of history, identity and community among people who identify as Black, including those in the African diaspora and within Africa" (via Axois). As a contrast to these definitions, the lowercase "black" is a color, not a person. And the lowercase "indigenous" signifies that anyone is from any place.

"When a copyeditor deletes the capital ‘B,’ they are in effect deleting the history and contributions of my people.”

– Lori Tharps, Associate Professor of Journalism at Temple University


So we're capitalizing Black now. What about "white"?

The AP is actively reviewing their guidelines on this, but currently has "white" used as lowercase in their style guide. But standards on this vary in different publications, and in personal opinions, for a multitude of reasons. To fully understand it, we have to first acknowledge that race itself is a social construct, formed and shaped over history. Race was a way to yield power and privileges over others, and preserve identities from being "tainted" by others. I'm simplifying, and recommend this article by Ta-nehisi Coates for details.

The need to add respect and understanding to the Black community is also in response to whiteness. I mentioned above that acknowledging Black and Indigenous as a community helps to "articulate the common challenges," and these challenges are an effect of being marginalized and exploited by dominant culture (more on that here). Some use this point to argue against white being capitalized, because white people already have enough power and don't need further acknowledgement. In these cases, some writers also note that white supremacists often capitalize white to demonstrate that they should remain in power. I paraphrased a detailed perspective you can read here >

On the other hand, other journalisms note that without identifying whiteness as its own race that, in itself, includes practices of racism and oppression, we won't move forward with it. Not identifying white as its own race also perpetuates the idea that it's the normal and status quo. The Center for the Study of Social Policy announced that it would follow the American Psychological Association’s style rules and capitalize white, citing the following:

"We believe that it is important to call attention to White as a race as a way to understand and give voice to how Whiteness functions in our social and political institutions and our communities. Moreover, the detachment of ‘White’ as a proper noun allows White people to sit out of conversations about race and removes accountability from White people’s and White institutions’ involvement in racism". You can read their full statement here >

Another argument on this is purely grammatical: if Black is capitalized, white should be too. They both are used as proper nouns and represent groups of people, and it looks unbalanced without.

I used the AP style guide for the sake of writing this email, as did most of the articles linked, so you can see it in action for yourself.


Why not African-American?
The term is still commonly used, but doesn't reflect the breadth of the Black population. African American refers to an American Black person of African descent. But there are Black people that more closely identify their roots to the Caribbean, for example, so Caribbean American may be preferred, and this person can also identify as Black. There are also Black people all around the world that may not have roots here; as of 2016, about 10% of Black people in the United States are foreign born. 

For some Black people there's also a cultural difference. I am an African American woman, but personally feel more connected to the broad definition of Black; my African heritage is unknown to me, and I've also got Portuguese blood in my ancestry. Black, to me, feels more representative of the full complexity of my identity.

Also, the hyphen between African-American and all other race / ethnicity mashups was removed by the AP Style guide in 2019, noting that the hyphen dates to the 19th century as a way to distinguish immigrants as “other” and has been a common microaggression for more than a century.

I personally didn't know anything about the hyphens until researching this piece, and will reflect in my future emails.

ps – remember our conversation on diversifying news and media? Note that the AP and Poynter, another prominent voice in journalistic standards, announced this news without citing any Black or Indigenous journalists. As this conversation grows, there's another conversation on ensuring Black and Indigenous journalists are in the newsrooms to help guide this narrative.

Black America is constituted overwhelmingly by the descendants of people who were not only brought to the country against their will but were later inducted into an ambivalent form of citizenship without their input. The Fourteenth Amendment, which granted citizenship to all those born here, supposedly resolved the question of the status of ex-slaves, though those four million individuals were not consulted in its ratification. The unspoken yield of this history is the possibility that the words “African” and “American” should not be joined by a hyphen but separated by an ellipsis.


– Jelani Cobb for the New Yorker

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Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza

Fight voter suppression.

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Happy Wednesday, everyone!

I've been working on a series of emails about voter suppression for a while, but the recent news in Kentucky – paired with the anniversary of Shelby County v. Holder, encouraged me to publish the first today. As the election gets closer, we'll continue to analyze how white supremacy and systemic oppression has influenced our collective right to vote.

There's been so many questions coming through that I'll dedicate each Saturday's email to answering each of them! If you haven't already, submit your questions by replying to this email. I'll do my best to answer them, and save the rest for following weeks.

Your support makes these email possible! You can 
donate one-time on Paypal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza) or give monthly on Patreon to keep these going.
- Nicole

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TAKE ACTION


DO THIS NOW (U.S. READERS)

Contact your state senators to encourage them to pass The Voting Rights Advancement Act.


INTERNATIONAL READERS
Consider how voter suppression may be protected – or barred – from your government. Are there disproportionate groups of people that have had difficulty participating in your most recent election?

GET EDUCATED


Accusations of voter suppression ring this morning after yesterday's state primaries – particularly in Kentucky. After delaying the vote from May until yesterday because of COVID-19, the state slashed the number of polling locations from 3,700 in a normal election year to less than 200. In Jefferson County – home to the state's largest Black population – there was just one in-person voting location in Louisville for the nearly 617,000 registered voters. Videos from yesterday show frustrated voters locked out after polls closed.

Louisville, Kentucky is where Breonna Taylor, a 26-year-old Black woman, was killed by police in her home for no reason. And over three months later, none of the officers involved in the shooting have been arrested. For a state that's been at the center of the recent protests unfolding across the country, many people feel the moves were deliberate, especially because the winner from this election will take on Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell in November. Results are being updated here >

COVID-19 complicates the issue of voter suppression today. States have to take necessary precautions to prevent the spread of the virus, so reducing the number of polling states and encouraging absentee ballots makes sense. But we do know that this country has a long history of voter suppression, particularly against Black people, and there is more work to be done until everyone can exercise their constitutional right.

An overview of voter suppression.


Voter suppression, by definition, is when state or federal government intentionally make it difficult for people to exercise their right to vote. The Fair Fight PAC breaks down three fundamental stages of voting: voter registration, access to polls, and ballot counting. Voter suppression can happen at any stage of this process. Although voter suppression affects everyone from having a fair and democratic election, it usually directly impacts communities of color, the elderly, people with disabilities and others systemically marginalized in our country.

You can read about common examples of disenfranchisement here

Voter suppression for Black people has been around since the beginning. Although the 15th Amendment made it unconstitutional to deny any man the right to vote based "on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude," Black men were often barred from the polls, particularly in the South, through state-wide rules and regulations that limited their rights. States implemented polling taxes – which made it to expensive for any poor person to vote – and literacy tests to thwart Black people, newly freed and often undereducated. Some states implemented grandfather clauses, which required voters to have parents or grandparents registered to vote, impossible for newly freed Black people.

In Mississippi in 1890, the state went so far to also require voters to read and interpret a section of the state constitution chosen by a local official. Over the next few years, every state followed suit, eliminating Black voters from the conversation. By 1906, more than 90 percent of African-American voters in the South had been disfranchised. Read in-depth about this process here >

The poll tax won’t keep ’em from voting. What keeps ’em from voting is section 244 of the constitution of 1890 that Senator George wrote. It says that for a man to register, he must be able to read and explain the constitution … and then Senator George wrote a constitution that damn few white men and no niggers at all can explain.

– Democrat Senator Theodore Bilbo during his campaign re-election in 1946


It wasn't until the Voting Rights Act of 1965 that the federal government finally eradicated these voting laws, but seven years ago the Supreme Court significantly weakened the Voting Rights Act. In its June 25, 2013 ruling in Shelby County v. Holder, the Court rejected a provision of the Voting Rights Act that determined which jurisdictions with a history of discrimination had to “pre-clear” changes to their election rules with the federal government prior to implementing them. This gave states a free pass to make whichever rules they see fit without oversight.

Since then, 24 states have implemented new restrictions on voting. Alabama now requires a photo ID to cast a ballot. Other states such as Ohio and Georgia have enacted "use it or lose it" laws, which strike voters from registration rolls if they have not participated in an election within a prescribed period of time. In 2018, voter purges and delayed voter registrations affecting mainly Black voters plagued the Georgia governor race between Stacey Abrams and Brian Kemp. Only 40% of polling places fully accommodate people with disabilities. And across the country, counties with larger minority populations have fewer polling sites and poll workers per voter. 

The Voting Rights Advancement Act aims to counter these statewide initiatives with some standard for a coverage formula, giving the federal government more oversight to ensure all people can vote.

As concerns of voter suppression loomed early this week, Trump took to Twitter to warn that foreign countries will rig the upcoming elections by using mail-in ballots. Regardless of which stance you take, one thing is clear – we need a better solution to ensure all voices are heard this fall, especially in the midst of a global pandemic.

Note: A major part of voter suppression is felony disenfranchisement, which will be discussed in full in another newsletter in early July. Here's an overview if you're curious now.

KEY TAKEAWAYS


  • Voter suppression is a persistent part of our nation's history

  • COVID-19 complicates providing a fair and just voting process

  • Black people have systemically been deprived of their right to vote

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT


Thank you for all your financial contributions! If you haven't already, consider making a monthly donation to this work. These funds will help me operationalize this work for greatest impact.

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Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza

Defund the police – beyond the slogan.

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Hi,

Early subscribers may remember that we covered this issue at the beginning of the newsletter's conception. 
Yet recent polls indicate that the slogan isn't resonating with the majority of Americans – even if some of the strategies to achieve it do.

Today is an opportunity to revisit the topic. 
Many cities across the U.S. have proposals to decrease police budgets and re-allocate elsewhere, so it may be easier for local readers to find something to connect with in your hometown. You can also read this opinion piece about its application in the UK.

Defund the police is turning into a political issue – and will likely be a major part of the November elections. But remember that it's an issue of racism, too, and it's important it doesn't get lost in its definition and implementation.

Thanks for reading. If you can, consider giving 
one-time or monthly for this community to grow. You can use PayPal, Venmo (@nicoleacardoza) or find me on Patreon.

Nicole

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TAKE ACTION


1. Sign the ACLU petition to drastically reduce funding to law enforcement and to reinvest in the communities they harm. Sign the petition > 
 

2. Learn about conversations that may be happening around defunding the police in your local community.

GET EDUCATED


A FAQ on defunding the police.


What does defund the police even mean?
The rally to defund the police is a call to action for communities to change the law enforcement system from the ground up by re-allocating funding spent on police departments to other necessary infrastructure, including violence prevention programs, public housing, health care and mental health care, and education. Learn more >

A more accurate slogan would be "re-allocating some of the police funding into community services, particularly those that support underserved communities, in the hopes of decreasing the burden on police officers for our welfare and giving space to re-imagine a police system that wasn't based on racism and oppression" but that's harder to chant in unison during protests.

The slogan "defund the police" is going to be heard more frequently as we approach elections in November. And the concept itself is radical. So it's not a good sign that the slogan is polling poorly amongst Americans.

"It’s not just about taking away money from the police, it’s about reinvesting those dollars into black communities. Communities that have been deeply divested from, communities that, some have never felt the impact of having true resources. And so we have to reconsider what we’re resourcing. I've been saying we have an economy of punishment over an economy of care."

― Patrisse Cullors in a conversation on WBUR Here & Now

What does abolishing the police mean?
This is a more long-term and radical call for not just shifting our investment in law enforcement, but completing re-imagining the entire criminal justice system. Abolitionists are calling for more than just cutting budgets in the short-term. This article from The Nation from 2015 is a good overview.

Does defunding the police mean getting rid of police officers entirely?
No.  Defunding the police means "shrinking the scope of police responsibilities and shifting most of what government does to keep us safe to entities that are better equipped to meet that need", says Christy E. Lopez, a Georgetown Law professor and co-director of the school’s Innovative Policing Program. 

MPD150, a Minneapolis-based initiative by organizers aiming to bring "meaningful structural change" to police in the city, are focusing on who responds when someone calls 911. Instead of sending a police officer, they're advocating that instead we could send social workers, mental health care providers and victim or survivor advocates, among others.

This decreases the burden placed on police officers, who are currently tasked to respond to a wide range of requests from their community.

Learn more on this in this USA Today article.

But not all police are bad! Why change everything over bad apples?
Yes, not every police officer is racist. Not all police officers kill black people. But this is not the argument. This isn't a conversation about bad apples, but a poisoned orchard. Remember that the police system has systemically hurt black communities throughout time because it's built on a system of racism and white supremacy. Consider:

  • 1 in every 1,000 black men can expect to be killed by police (PNAS)

  • Minneapolis Police Use Force Against Black People at 7 Times the Rate of Whites (NYTimes)

  • Policing in southern slave-holding states had roots in slave patrols – groups of white volunteers empowered to use vigilante tactics to enforce laws related to slavery (The Conversation)

The "bad apples" argument is an incredibly harmful refrain. Not only does it prevent conversations from moving forward, it protects white supremacy and systemic oppression and completely discredits the pain, suffering and grief these "bad apples" have caused to individual families and entire communities impacted by their actions.

But won't there be more crime if there's less law enforcement?
Unlikely. Many citizens are concerned that a decrease in law enforcement will increase crime. But by investing in other systems of support, advocates of defunding the police find this unlikely. In addition, studies have shown that more police doesn't equal less crime, either.  Some police chiefs, including Metropolitan Police Chief Peter Newsham in DC have warned that decreasing police budgets can create inadequate resources for training, which can increase bad policing (read more at DCist), which is a key consideration in how communities should move forward with defunding – ensuring it doesn't impact effectiveness.

KEY TAKEAWAYS


  • Defunding the police allows communities to re-invest in other forms of community support

  • The police system is inherently inequitable, and deeply rooted in racism and white supremacy

  • These initiatives unburden police officers from responding to a wide range of community calls

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT


Thank you for all your financial contributions! If you haven't already, consider making a monthly donation to this work. These funds will help me operationalize this work for greatest impact.

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Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza

Talk about our right to protest.

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Happy Monday!

Thanks for your kind notes in response to the Q&A. Feedback on this email series is overwhelmingly positive, and I don't mind digging into the tough conversations because I know we're all here to learn. This work is uncomfortable because it's counter-cultural – the more we do it, the more we reshape our society into a safer, more equitable place.

Based on the feedback from yesterday, today we're diving into tactics on talking about race with our peers. This time we're going to use resources from leading anti-racism educators and facilitators to address harmful perceptions around protests.
 
If these newsletters have been useful for you, consider 
donating one-time on Paypal or Venmo (@nicolecardoza), or giving $5 each month on Patreon.

Nicole

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TAKE ACTION


Choose a family member, colleague or friend to have a conversation about the recent protests.

Review (and perhaps share) our Rights to Protest outlined by the ACLU.

GET EDUCATED


The protests aren't going anywhere.

Protests for Black lives have been holding steady across the country for the past three weeks. This weekend, protests and demonstrations were hosted in honor of Juneteenth across the U.S., and protestors gathered in Tulsa for Trump's rally. And as these conversations swell, more protests are sprouting up in smaller cities, bringing the national conversations to small-town life. 

And the protests are creating change – most noticeably, In a Monmouth University poll released this week, 76% of Americans — including 71% of white people — called racism and discrimination “a big problem” in the United States, a 26 percentage point increase since 2015. In this article you can also scroll to see a running list of political and corporate level change sparked by the protests unfolding.

But public perception about the protests themselves is still tenuous, especially as they move to smaller, more rural communities. A study from Pew Research Center found that about 62% U.S. adults say some people taking advantage of the situation to engage in criminal behavior has been a major contributing factor in the protests. Generally, our society has had a critical view of protests that were much less present than demonstrators taking over the streets. The protests of Colin Kapernick, for example, have been shamed by individuals and the NFL until recently: a poll found that for the first time and only last week, the majority of Americans support kneeling during the national anthem, and the NFL commissioner only just admitted they were wrong for not listening to players' protests.

We can protect our right to protest, and encourage that the messages are heard, by shifting those public perceptions in our own community. I've compiled a series of resources for tactically having conversations around protests that center the importance of all voices being heard. 

“We have an unequal society that benefits the few—the old, the white—over the many: the young, people of color. That is the crux of all these conversations.”

Demographer William Frey in this article for The Atlantic


Tools for holding conversations around the right to protest.
 

Find your buddy.
Find a person you can call for support as you prepare and host this conversation. As SURJ says: "Who can you scheme and grieve and dream with?"
 

Increase the level of connection.
For example, if you’re responding to a post on social media, try a direct message, or a text message, or even a phone call. Make it as personal as possible.

Seek conversation, not confrontation.
Start the dialogue with an invitation, ask for consent before diving in, and avoid accusations. Avoid “why” questions because they can make people feel defensive. Instead, try something like “what made you feel that way” or “how did that happen” or “will you tell me more about that”.

Be vulnerable.
Starting from a place of your own ignorance is a powerful way to demonstrate leadership and acknowledge your own growth in moving forward.

Focus on transformative, not transactional conversations.
Similar to the above, guide the conversation so it has space to turn into follow-up conversations for additional growth and understanding.

It's okay to pause and pick up later.
If the conversation reaches a boiling point, you can firmly end and request to pick up later. It might feel tempting to keep pushing, but sometimes that can break connection and leave a relationship difficult to repair.

Ask them what they need.
Guiding the conversation with questions, not statements, gives agency to the other person, and may illuminate where their perceptions are stemming from.

Prepare yourself with concrete examples in response to FAQs:

These protests are going to cause more COVID-19 spikes.
A recent study found "no evidence" that protests across 315 of America's largest cities caused a spike in the number of new COVID-19 cases, because people not protesting were more likely to stay home

All the looting is ruining local businesses.
Stories from businesses that were directly impacted by property destruction or looting, like Indian restaurant Gandhi Mahal in Minneapolis, might help your discussion.

That cop is just a bad apple, and the system will hold them responsible.
You can point to the ongoing history of violence by the police, name that there's recent murders were cops have not found justice, and how the protests themselves are delivering justice for Rayshard Brooks and Breonna Taylor that might not otherwise be found.

Key resources in this compilation include the SURJ Google Doc for talking about protests and this NPR interview with Ijeoma Oluo.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT


Thank you for all your financial contributions! If you haven't already, consider making a monthly donation to this work. These funds will help me operationalize this work for greatest impact.

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Protect essential workers: Racial Disparities of COVID-19 

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Happy Sunday!

As part of our weekly series on COVID-19, today we're analyzing the relationship between academic opportunities, essential workers and contracting the pandemic.

I'm also adding a FAQ at the bottom of this email with responses to some questions (accusations is more fitting) I've gotten from some emails this week. The email on reparations and the email on Confederate symbols got some people riled. And although I'm not interested in arguing on points, I think it's important to call attention to how our biases influence how we process information. I'll make this a weekly series where I'll answer questions – send some honest inquiries my way by replying to this email.

Also, a few of you have let me know the archives are appearing as blank pages on mobile web. I'm not sure why, so over the next week I'll move each archive off of Mailchimp to our website. Thanks for your patience.
 
If these newsletters have helped your understanding of racism and how to dismantle it, consider 
donating one-time on Paypal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or giving $5 each month on Patreon.

Nicole

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TAKE ACTION


Research to see if your city council has put any actions in place to protect essential workers, like these from Philadelphia or Seattle.

Support the Essential Workers Bill of Rights.

GET EDUCATED


The impact of COVID-19 on essential workers.

As we discussed in yesterday's newsletter – which was somehow the most controversial newsletter I've published to date – there's a significant wealth gap between white Americans and Black Americans. There's also a similar wealth gap between white Americans and other non-white populations. And when analyzing the impact of COVID-19 on Black and brown populations, economics plays a huge part of who's likely to be contracting the disease.

Let's first review the role of essential workers; the few roles left standing after jobs shutter in the face of COVID-19. People of color make up nearly half the total population of essential workers overall, and make up the majority of essential workers in food and agriculture (50%) and in industrial, commercial, residential facilities and services (53%).

These essential roles tend to attract people who have been systemically disadvantaged from an academic perspective – those that haven't had the opportunity or privilege to attend a higher institution, or who immigrated here to America. According to the Economic Policy Institute, nearly 70% of essential workers do not have a college degree. 30% essential workers have some college or a high school diploma. One in 10 have less than a high school diploma.  

To understand how many people find themselves in these types of roles, we have to look at the challenges that prevent people from excelling academically, particularly people of color. Not only do we know the significant barriers that prevent people of color from going to, and graduating from college, we also know that there are disproportionate challenges for students of color to stay in school, even as early as elementary school.

Compounding this issue are the trends on employment: African Americans have a higher unemployment rate compared to the overall population right now, making it more difficult to justify leaving a job, even if it's causing an increased likelihood of exposure. And remember that most people in essential jobs don't have the financial capacity to take off time if they wanted to. 

So these individuals are significantly more likely to contract the disease, but they're also struggling to obtain the necessary support to protect themselves. For example, front-line health care workers were are 12x more likely to test positive for COVID-19 compared with members of the public, but hospitals are still struggling to meet the basic needs for PPE while cases surge. Since many gig workers – who are also deemed essential – are contractors, not employees of companies like Uber and DoorDash, they don't have employee protections that give them job security, healthcare or even PPE. Black people are twice as likely to lack health insurance compared with their white counterparts.

These challenges affect every essential worker from every ethnic background, regardless of race. But considering the racial makeup of the population, these challenges also contribute to the larger racial disparties of the impact of COVID-19.

Next week we'll analyze how undocumented immigrants have moved from "illegal" to "essential" during COVID-19, and the importance of protecting their health and safety.  

“We’re not essential, we’re expendable.”

 Denita Jones, a Dallas-area call center worker in this article for The Guardian

WEEKLY Q&A


Each Sunday I'll try to answer questions that come in from pieces throughout the week. You can submit a question by replying to this email. I can't get to everyone's questions and I'm automatically deleting any racist insults that come into my inbox, but I'm looking forward to hearing your inquiries! This week I'm addressing less questions, more accusations, that have come in. 

My white ancestors had a lot of hardships when they came to America, too! Why don't they get reparations?”

For starters, my email advocating for reparations for Black people does not say anywhere that other people from other racial backgrounds are ineligible for reparations. In fact, we can only hope that a movement towards reparations would encourage reparations for other people that have been harmed.

This line of argument is a common way people invalidate the experiences of marginalized people, and through this logic, inadvertently uphold systems of oppression. Remember that acknowledging harm against one person doesn't invalidate the harm against another. 

Instead, I wish people with these arguments could empathize, and, with this deep and direct understanding of similar pain and trauma, feel more connected with the pain of others and join in solidarity. 
 
Also, this person in particular was referring to the Irish slaves myth, which is factually inaccurate and is a popular argument used by white nationalists.

I never owned a slave. My tax-paying dollars should not have to support a Black person.”
First off, from my understanding there is no formal proposal for an economic model for reparations. That would be, in part, what a task force for Congress would work on with the passing of H.R. 40. Yesterday's call-to-action was to encourage the task force to be created, not to empty anyone's pocketbooks.

But also remember that today, right now, your tax paying dollars are actively supporting police brutality, unfair criminal justice practices, and discriminatory housing and hiring practices. You may not have personally owned a slave, or even your family, but if we are all paying taxes, we are all complicit in this system right now.

This is a form of othering – distancing oneself from the harm that has happened to eschew accountability. Even if we are not directly responsible for something that's happened in our society, we must hold ourselves accountable. It's akin to people that see a car crash on the highway in front of them, and keep driving instead of stopping to see if the victims need help.

Black people won't know what to do with the money. They'll spend it on drugs and alcohol.”
I'm not even going to argue against this racist stereotype because I don't have the patience. But let's just unpack that you, lovely reader, believe that a nationwide initiative for reparations shouldn't happen because of the potential of people spending it against your wishes. You believe that you know what is best for an entire population based on your perception of their relationship with money. You would rather that a significant act to reduce racial inequities does not happen than for funds to be potentially spent unwisely. 

There's also another harmful practice where the actions of a Black person somehow are indicative of Black people as a whole. One financially irresponsible Black person doesn't mean all Black people are, in the same way that just because Barack Obama became president doesn't mean that racism doesn't exist.

That money won't even solve racism in America, or pay for all that pain.
Yep, this is true. We can't solve racism in America with a paycheck. Reparations isn't to solve racism, it's to reduce the economic impact of it. Germany wasn't hoping that money would make the impact of the Holocaust disappear, and we still mourn its devastating impact in today's time. But again, does that mean it shouldn't happen at all? Consider why you feel that blocking reparations helps move the movement forward. 

Something else to consider – reparations could be used to invest in improving the systems that perpetuate racism, like creating more equitable housing and healthcare systems or improving education. 

A lot of good men died for the Confederacy.
There's been good men (and women) that have lived and fought and died on both sides of conflict throughout time. Removing Confederate symbols and statues are not to diminish their individual names, but reduce the prominence of the harm their work represents. Robert E. Lee, the most prominent symbol of the Confederacy, was most likely a great father and husband. 

This is a form of deflection. It creates an argument that's counter-productive to the conversation (where did I say in my newsletter that everyone that died for the Confederacy were bad men?) And it doesn't even address the key point – that Confederate symbols were often erected as white supremacy symbols after the war ended, and are still used to incite racial violence to this day.

On the flipside, many of you noted that we also should be tearing down statues of Christopher Columbus, too, which is absolutely valid. I should have mentioned him (and conversations on George Washington, the harmful depictions of Native Americans, and much more) though I plan to unpack all of this in future newsletters. Luckily, dozens of other harmful statues are being torn down right now, not just those associated with the Confederacy.


Thank you for all your financial contributions! If you haven't already, consider making a monthly donation to this work. These funds will help me operationalize this work for greatest impact.

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Support reparations.

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Happy weekend,

These past few days we've looked at the lasting implications of the Civil War, including the lingering Confederate symbols we need to take down, how lynching became a brutal response to the freedom of enslaved Black people, and the significance of Juneteenth.

So today is a conversation about what as a nation should do about it. You may have heard the term reparations, and I hope this overview helps contextualize the importance of recognizing how relevant the economic impact of slavery is in today's time.
 
If these newsletters have helped your understanding of racism and how to dismantle it, consider 
donating one-time on Paypal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or giving $5 each month on Patreon.

Nicole

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TAKE ACTION


1. Send this message to your members of Congress urging them to support H.R. 40., a bill that would set up a commission to examine the institution of slavery and its impact and make recommendations for reparations to Congress.

Pro tip: It's always encouraged to remix the standard email before you send it, so it doesn't get auto-filtered or archived in your representatives' inbox. 

2. Reflect on the following questions:
How would my life look if my parents had different access to education, based on their racial privilege?
Where would my family have lived if their race had a different impact on their opportunity to settle down?
What is my parents net worth? Where did that money come from? How would their opportunities to generate income change if they had a different racial background?

GET EDUCATED


What is reparations?

By definition, reparations is the the "making of amends for a wrong one has done, by paying money to or otherwise helping those who have been wronged". Historically, countries worldwide have paid reparations (through direct financial contributions) post-conflict to ensure that transitions towards peace stay smooth, and to financially compensate for harm. Germany paid reparations to Holocaust survivors. South Africa paid reparations to victims of apartheid crimes in 2003. Colombia paid reparations to its citizens after decades of civil unrest. You can read more examples from around the world here.

Prominent figures have been calling for reparations for Black people in America since the end of slavery. It's easy to see why. After 250 years of slavery, Black people in America have still be systemically marginalized in all aspects of life. And as we touched on yesterday, our freedom didn't come with rights. I'm going to gloss over major events we'll dive into deeper in future newsletters, but consider that it wasn't until 1954 to mark racial segregation in schools unconstitutional. It took until 1965 to prohibit racial discrimination in voting. It was only in 1968 that it became illegal for a landlord to discriminate against or prefer a potential tenant based on their race, color, religion, gender, or national origin. And despite all of this, we still see inequity in education, voting rights and housing in today's time – and in so much more.

So, compared to white Americans as a whole, Black people have not been granted the opportunities for freedom and prosperity that were promised in our Constitution. These barriers create a real and lasting emotional toll – deep, generational trauma – that have been carried through Black families for generations. And a real and lasting economic impact. It's no wonder that as of 2016, the net worth of a typical white family is nearly ten times greater ($171,000) than that of a Black family ($17,150). Much of wealth is passed down through families generation after generation, and most Black families have simply not had the economic opportunities to pass that forward, an issue that compounds as time goes on.

Not only has Black wealth been difficult to accumulate, it's also been readily taken away. Remember our email about Tulsa and the massacre of people and destruction of wealth on Black Wall Street. Remember that this is the same place Trump has chosen to host a rally today (rescheduled from Juneteenth).

The reparations many prominent politicians and activists are calling for are an attempt to, in the words of economist Robert Browne, "restore the black community to the economic position it would have if it had not been subjected to slavery and discrimination".

And although estimates on what that actual payout should look like vary greatly, Browne's estimates equate to almost $153,000 (with a 2019 valuation) for every black American living today, which almost matches the closing of the wealth gap mentioned in the article above.

“There hasn’t been a decade when the chain of discrimination and bigotry and prejudice has been unbroken. And as much as you can talk about Jim Crow laws and de jure and de facto desegregation in the 19th century, you can talk about things like racial profiling, a discriminatory death penalty, and disparity in sentencing in the 21st century.”

 Charles Ogletree Jr., attorney and Harvard Law professor in this Harvard Law article

The most thoughtful and comprehensive modern-day analysis of reparations in America, in my opinion, was written in 2014 by Ta-Nehisi Coates, so I highly encourage everyone to read the article in full. This article and its response catalyzed the conversation for it to become a major campaign issue of 2020, and is expected to become even more critical after the surge of protests from the past few weeks. And although I can't advocate for the best economic model for deciding how to disburse the funds, I am clear that reparations are a necessary step in creating a more equitable future.

And as the federal government stalls on reparation conversations, local and state governments are taking action. The California Assembly recently passed a bill to create a task force, and in 2015 Chicago enacted a reparations ordinance covering hundreds of African Americans tortured by police. As this Washington Post article outlines, there can be a lot to learn as organizations and local leaders take on the difficult task of reparations on their own.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT


Thank you for all your financial contributions! If you haven't already, consider making a monthly donation to this work. These funds will help me operationalize this work for greatest impact.

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Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza

Rally to celebrate Juneteenth.

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Happy Juneteenth!

Today outlines the importance of this holiday and why it has garnered so much attention this year. It also highlights why celebrating it is not enough to repair the harm created against Black people after years of slavery. We'll pick up a part two on this topic next week.

This daily newsletter is free and will stay free thanks to the people that opt-in to give. If you haven't already, consider 
donating one-time on Paypal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or giving $5 each month on Patreon.

– Nicole

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TAKE ACTION


1. Sign this petition to make Juneteenth a federally recognized holiday. This petition was created in 2019 by Opal Lee, a 93-year-old activist.

2. Tell your company to make Juneteenth a paid holiday. If your company already has, upload their information here.

3. Reflect: Who was alive in your family when Juneteenth happened? How many generations ago was that?

GET EDUCATED


Juneteenth deserves recognition.

Today, June 19th, marks the 155th anniversary of Juneteenth, also known as Freedom Day or Emancipation Day. It marks the day in 1865 when Union soldiers arrived in Galveston, Texas, and brought news that slavery had been abolished more than two years earlier.

History books have taught us that the Emancipation Proclamation, signed by Abraham Lincoln in 1862, was the day that slavery was abolished. But the Emancipation Proclamation was more of a military strategy. By proclaiming that all enslaved people in the states that made up the Confederacy were free, he made it clear where the North stood against the Confederacy's goals, dissuaded Britain and France from aligning with the Southern states (because they opposed slavery), and encouraged Black Americans to serve in the Union Army.

But remember that during this we were in the midst of the Civil War, and states seceding from the Union, like Texas, weren't really interested in what the North had to say. Texas actually had states laws that made freeing slaves illegal. It wasn't until the North sent some troops to carry out freedom across the state in person for rules to change, which means that Emancipation Days are different for different cities in the state.

You can hear Laura Smalley, who was enslaved as a child on this day, talk about what it felt like to hear the announcement here.

But the celebrations in Galveston, TX have become symbolic in our country, rising to prominence in the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s, gaining more attention on its 150th anniversary, and rising with the reckoning of our generation. This year many brands are making it a paid holiday, and 47 states mark it as a state holiday. Legislation is currently underway to make it a national holiday. The facts and figures here >

“When they celebrated July 4, Independence Day, Black people weren’t free or independent.”

Donald Payton, Historian


But we are still not free.

 Nope. Juneteenth didn't officially slavery for everyone. In That didn't happen until the 13th Amendment went into effect in December 1865, which stated that "neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction."

And see those words "except as a punishment for crime"? If you reflect back to our conversations on cash bail and defunding the police, you may notice how our criminal justice system is still unfairly placing Black people in involuntary servitude. But I digress...

But let's say that Juneteenth DID make everyone immediately, 100% free. Free does not mean equal. Enslaved people were no longer enslaved. It did NOT mean we had a right to bear arms, or vote, to work, or go to school, or marry someone outside or race, or own land. It gave us our freedom but none of our rights. So remember that Juneteenth only happened 155 years ago. And Black people have been fighting for their rights to what white Americans have been granted since the Independence Day we still celebrate today.

Making Juneteenth official alone doesn't do that. It has meaning, but can easily become an optical form of solidarity if we don't keep pushing for the reform necessary to truly ensure this country gives Black people the dignity and respect they deserve. You'll start hearing more conversations around reparations this weekend as Juneteenth unfolds, so keep an ear out – we'll be focusing on this Monday.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT


Thank you for all your financial contributions! If you haven't already, consider making a monthly donation to this work. These funds will help me operationalize this work for greatest impact.

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Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza

Take down Confederate symbols.

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Hello all!

Thank you so much for your kind notes re: yesterday's difficult piece. I appreciate it. And I'm glad so many of you are committed to taking an unflinching look at our past and present.

Thank you to everyone that has contributed one-time or monthly to make this possible. If you haven't already, you can 
make a contribution via PayPalPatreon or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza). 

– Nicole

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TAKE ACTION


1. See if your U.S. state has any Confederacy symbols on this map. If so, contact your state representatives to remove. Some states even have petitions in place for you to sign. 

2. If you're from outside the U.S., use this lesson to discover how racist symbols are still pervasive in your country.

Please note: today's email is not encouraging you to personally deface public or private property :)

GET EDUCATED


Tear every statue down.

Let's start with the basics: there's a lot of monuments and symbols (like a flag) that honor the Confederacy, an unrecognized republic of seven states that seceded from the United States during the American War. And right now, protestors are taking them down

Although there have been consistent and ongoing pressure by local communities to remove these statues for decades, this conversation got significant attention five years ago, nearly to the date (June 17), when Dylann Roof, a 21-year-old white supremacist, walked into Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in South Carolina during Bible study and opened fire, killing nine Black people. There's a lot more to this story and its relevance to current events, but for brevity's sake, I encourage you to read this NPR article that reflects on its impact five years later.

Investigations of Dylann Roof illuminated (among many racist and harmful things) his fervor for the Confederacy, and his dedication to uphold it, which began a larger rally to remove Confederate flags and statues from public display. At this time, the Confederate flag was still flying high in front of the South Carolina state capitol (until activist Bree Newsome scaled the pole and took it down herself).

These conversations were amplified in 2017, when a right-wing rally in Charlottesville, VA to protest the removal of a statue of Confederate general Robert E. Lee turned deadly. James Alex Fields Jr. drove his car into supporters of the statue removal, killing Heather Heyer and injuring 28 others. Read more here >

Before we go any further let's get one thing crystal clear: the Civil War was about slavery. Many people will argue otherwise – that it was about the economy, or state rights – but those concerns were all rooted in their relationship to enslaved people. Southern states were worried about the economic impact of slavery being abolished, with so much capital already defined by the ownership of people, the labor they provided, and the burden of integrating those people as actual citizens upon their freedom. Also, as the United States started to expand to new lands, and some of those lands were settled as free states where slavery was illegal, those pro-slavery saw the value of those lands decrease from the offset. States wanted state rights for slavery. So I don't care how anyone tries to justify it – this was about slavery. Here's a few places you can read more.

So the Civil War happened, the Confederacy lost, and the end of that war marks the end of slavery as we know it in America (known as Juneteenth, which we will discuss in tomorrow's newsletter). But there wasn't a happily ever after ending here, obviously. The Reconstruction era began, and, as we discussed in yesterday's newsletter, people, particularly in the South weren't all that happy about the new freedoms of African-American people. Raising the Confederate flag and honoring Confederate soldiers was an act of rebellion in the face of changing times. Which is why even a bumper sticker of a Confederate flag says much more than others may want to admit: a declaration of support for states that believed, at minimum, that slavery is economically justified. 

And since there's people around today using these symbols to justify and accelerate violence and harm, it's long overdue for them to come down. As of 2019 the Southern Poverty Law Center found 1,747 Confederate monuments, place names and other symbols. Aljazeera has a map of 771 statues across the country. What's wild to consider is that, despite the fact that the Confederacy lasted for five years, most of these symbols were established in the 60 years following the war. In fact, at least 32 Confederacy monuments were dedicated or re-dedicated since 2000, well after I was born! So how have we spent lifetimes commemorating a five-year period of our history? Are these statements of an event in history, or how we see the future?

Many people, including Trump, believe that the statues should stay, citing that it erases the character of the brave people that fought for our country. Some also believe taking them down may make it easier for us to forget. You can read some of the nuances around taking down the statues in this article. But it's not hard to understand why so many protestors are toppling them now, perhaps as a long overdue performance of dismantling the systems that have oppressed Black people for far too long.


We can pretend that the debate over Confederate symbols is about preserving or erasing history, but really, it’s about our values. It’s about whether we care more about statues standing than people falling. Because we know, through statistics, video evidence and story after story, that the people who are most hurt by those symbols of hatred are falling at disproportionate rates across the country.

― Theresa Vargas for this article in the Washington Post

Let's remember that the Confederacy lasted for five years. Five years! So many things in American history have lasted longer than five years. Countless humorous articles and memes have been written about this, but I particularly like this list from Buzzfeed back in 2015. 

Here's my list of things that have lasted longer than the Confederacy:

  • 246 years (and counting): Slavery in America
    The first enslaved African people were brought to America in 1619 and was "abolished" at the end of the Civil War in 1865 – although you can argue there's plenty of systems in place that still enslave African America people to today's time.

  • 339 years: Laws prohibiting anti-racial marriage
    Laws prohibiting interracial marriage were first established in 1661, and Alabama was the last to abolish in 2000. 

  • 5 years: "Justice" for Eric Garner 
    Eric Garner was murdered by a NYPD police officer who put him in a chokehold in 2014. It took over five years for the NYPD to terminate that police officer, and for a grand jury to decide he will not be indicted with any federal charges. I use justice in quotations because, to me, justice would be Eric Garner not being dead in the first place – and nothing will come close to that.

  • 131 years: The time it took for Quaker to change the Aunt Jemima branding
    I'm probably going to do a whole newsletter on this topic, so if you're curious, read this article to understand how racist and harmful this type of branding is.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT


Thank you for all your financial contributions! If you haven't already, consider making a monthly donation to this work. These funds will help me operationalize this work for greatest impact.

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Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza

Learn about the history of lynching in America.

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Good morning,

Today's anti-racism daily was the most emotionally unsettling one for me to write. This is a cold and brutal part of our past AND our present, and we cannot continue to look away. I remember getting on the bus in 1st grade and another kid reminding me that "they still lynch people like me". I remember learning about lynchings for the first time in high school, watching our history teacher flip through slides of Black bodies hanging from trees, eyes stinging with tears as all the other students looked at me. And as the teacher couldn't meet my eyes. I was the only Black kid in the class. I share this today because we cannot look away from our history – we must face it, defiantly, and demand for it to change.

If you get anything from today's email, please realize that all of this is happening at the same time. The calls for justice for Robert Fuller and Malcolm Harsch. The updated tally of lynchings reported from the EJI. The Emmett Till Antilynching Act held up in the Senate. These are all current events that have occurred in the past few weeks. Events that also carry the weight of generations. 

Thank you to everyone that has contributed one-time or monthly to make this possible. You can 
make a contribution via PayPalPatreon or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza). 

– Nicole

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TAKE ACTION


1. Sign the change.org petitions for justice for Robert Fuller and Malcolm Harsch.

2. As you click through the articles linked below, reflect on the following:
Who was this article written by? A white man? A white woman? A person of color? Was this article written by a Black person? 

GET EDUCATED


The history of lynching in America.
Please note: this is a gruesome subject. Some sources linked here include graphic imagery.

As racial tensions flare both in the U.S. and around the world, it is bone chilling to read the reports that two Black men were found dead hanging from trees in California. Malcolm Harsch, 38, was found outside a library in Victorville, California, on May 31 with a USB cord wrapped around his neck. Ten days later and only 50 miles away, Robert Fuller, 24, was found hanging from a tree in a square across from City Hall in Palmdale, California.  Local authorities did not find foul play in either death and Robert Fuller's death was initially ruled a suicide, but families of both victims are rallying for deeper investigations. The FBI and the DOJ's Civil Rights Division announced Monday that they are "'actively reviewing' the investigations into the hanging deaths of Fuller and Harsch 'to determine whether there are violations of federal law.'" 

This story offers more words and perspectives from family members of the two deceased men.

To fully understand how terrifying and unsettling these deaths are, we have to understand the terrible history of lynching in America. Lynching, by definition, is "to put to death (as by hanging) by mob action without legal approval or permission". (On Wikipedia, lynching is defined as a "practice" which sends chills down my spine). Although lynchings have happened to people of all races – it became a popular way for white people to show their outrage against new-found freedom of enslaved Black people in the late 19th century, particularly in the South.

Lynchings were often public murders of Black people hung by ropes in trees. A noose, or lynch rope, was a common symbol of white supremacy and hatred against Black people. Some lynchings would be done at night in secret, for a body to be discovered in the morning. Some lynchings were popular public events where people would gather for the occasion, buy souvenirs and take photos with the victim. 

Although initial reports estimate that there were over 4,500 racial terror lynchings in the period between 1877 and 1950, a new report released last week by the Equal Justice Initiative, a 31-year-old legal advocacy group based in Montgomery, Alabama, has discovered an additional 2,000 more. You can read a review of the report here and the full report here.

“We cannot understand our present moment without recognizing the lasting damage caused by allowing white supremacy and racial hierarchy to prevail during Reconstruction.”

― Bryan Stevenson, Director of the Equal Justice Initiative

Despite all of this, lynchings are not considered a federal crime. But in February 2020, after over 120 years, the House of Representatives have approved a bill declaring lynchings a federal hate crime. As of last week, it is currently still stalled in the Senate. Nearly 200 anti-lynching bills have been rejected by Congress during the first half of the 20th century.

The name of the bill is the Emmett Till Antilynching Act, named after one of the most notorious lynchings in American history. Emmett Till was a 14-year-old boy who, in 1955, was accused of offending a white woman in her family's grocery store. The woman's husband and brother-in-law abducted Emmett and beat and mutilated him before shooting him in the head and sinking his body in the river. When his body was found and returned to his family, his mother held a funeral with an open casket so the world could see how horribly tortured and mutilated the body was, sparking the catalyst for the civil rights movement. Read more about his story here >

Emmett Till's murderers were acquitted by an all-white jury. The woman that accused Emmett Till, Carolyn Bryant Donham, admitted she made up the allegations that sparked the violence. She is still alive and has never been charged of a crime. Emmett Till would be 79 years old if he were still alive today. 

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT


Thank you for all your financial contributions! If you haven't already, consider making a monthly donation to this work. These funds will help me operationalize this work for greatest impact.

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Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza

Anti-Racism Daily in Review

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It's Tuesday.

Our list size has quadrupled in the past week alone – welcome, new faces! Which means that many of you did not get a chance to start these practices from the beginning. These actions are necessary for the work ahead and more relevant now than ever – so today is your opportunity to catch up.

I've provided a recap of our first week of content below – in addition to current events and other resources that add more context for the earliest subscribers.

And thank you to everyone that has contributed one-time or monthly to keep this going! You can 
make a contribution via PayPalPatreon or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza). 

– Nicole (
@nicoleacardoza on IG)

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TAKE ACTION


1. Choose ONE action from the list below and do it – even if you already have!

2. Reflect on your progress:
What have I learned that I did not know before doing this work?
How have my behaviors changed since I started doing this work?
How can I dive deeper to further my understanding of this work?
Who is one person I can reach out to today to get them in this work with me?

GET EDUCATED


In our first week, we addressed some critical issues when it comes to race.
And we'll keep going. Here's a recap of the first seven days of content that most of you missed! You can review all previous emails on the archives section of our website.
 

June 3 | Check your race privilege.
When committing to anti-racism work, it's important to acknowledge the privilege you may have based on your race. People who identify as white benefit from white privilege, and the power of normal that results in a society that's built around their experience. The worksheet in today's action helps you contextualize privilege in your life.
Get started >

June 4 | Don’t tell Black people how to respond.
This issue talks about policing Black bodies, and how society has normalized the concept that a Black person's behavior can be controlled and manipulated. As we continue to watch Black people victimized by police brutality, remember that policing Black people can happen at all levels – regardless of whether you're in law enforcement or not. Today's action encourages you to call out this harmful behavior when you see it happen in your community.
Learn more > 

June 5 | Breonna Taylor. Say her name. And remember it.
In this issue we introduce the concept of intersectionality, and how other parts of our identity along with race – like gender, sexual orientation, and socioeconomic status – can further marginalize us, and how important it is to center those voices. We talk about Breonna Taylor, who's killers are still walking free, and other Black women that have been lost in the conversation. With the recent death of Oluwatoyin Salau, a 19-year-old Black Lives Matter activist, the conversation is intensifying about protecting and centering Black women (both cisgender and transgender) as this movement unfolds. Because Breonna Taylor has still not seen justice, completing these actions are more important now than ever.
Get started >

June 6 | Give to bail funds – and abolish cash bail.
Millions of dollars were donated to bail funds in the response to the start of protests, which prompted a conversation many people have the privilege of being new to: How does cash bail work? Why is it important during times of protests? This issue outlines how cash bail disproportionately puts people in jail – and keeps them unfairly without trial, simply because they can't afford freedom. Considering conversations about changing our criminal justice system are gaining attention, it's still a good time to sign the petition in today's action.
Learn more >

June 7 | Call your loved ones and talk about white supremacy
I polled readers early on to see what they wanted this email series to tackle most. And it was this: How do I have these conversations with my loved ones? Remember that racism is systemic, and also interpersonal. This issue gives guidance on having the conversation. The action is to start that conversation – and put time on your calendar to follow up with them again in 10 days. For those that received this email on June 7, your follow-up day is tomorrow. But remember the best time to start this conversation was yesterday. The second best is now.
Get started >

June 8 | Reflect before reaching out to your Black colleagues.
I can't speak for every Black person, I know many of us have been in a deep state of grief as we watch our communities fall victim to racism and the global pandemic. And although you as a non-Black person may feel compelled to check in on them and have a discussion, it's important to reflect and handle these conversations with care. This issue discusses the importance of understanding "intent v. impact" and elevates Black voices and their perspective on these check-ins.
Learn more >

June 9 | Address performative allyship.
Remember all those years ago when those black boxes dominated our social newsfeeds in a campaign gone awry? This issue defines the term "performative allyship" – which was a new term for many of our readers, and maybe you, too! As we continue to hold businesses and individuals accountable (like we analyzed yesterday when diversifying our media), it's important that we understand this key concept and don't find ourselves doing the same.
Get started >

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT


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Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza

Diversify your media consumption.

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It's Monday and today's news cycle has a lot of news about, well, the news. Today we're addressing how representation in the media can shape our implicit bias when it comes to race, and the importance of reading media from a wide range of journalists to fully understand and respond to the current events. 

I guess we're a news platform now, too (although 11 days old). Why aren't there more publications covering anti-racism on a daily basis? Thank you to everyone that has contributed one-time or monthly to keep this going! You can 
make a contribution via PayPalPatreon or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza). 

– Nicole (@nicoleacardoza on IG)

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TAKE ACTION


1. Add one of the recommended news sources below to your reading list.

2. Replace a lifestyle magazine subscription to one with a more diverse lens. Here are my favorites >

3. Reflect on your go-to news source:
How many articles do I read by people of color? By women?
Who is on the executive leadership team of this news organization?
What stories, if any, have come up in the past two weeks about representation and equity in their workplace?

GET EDUCATED


How journalism influences our perception of race

The media industry is reckoning with representation and equity in how they do their work. From Refinery29 to Bon AppétitThe New York Times and ABC News, major media institutions are being questioned about whether their workplace culture and staff diversity can fairly and accurately report on the most pressing issues in today's time. It’s a fair question: how can media companies can hold space for deep cultural conversations externally if they’ve got a toxic culture internally?

I’ve had my own experience with the media after Yoga Journal, a popular wellness magazine and digital platform, initially signed me to be on the cover of their magazine, but then, without consent, asked their community to vote on this photo as to whether I should be on the cover, citing that they needed to make sure my issue would sell. It’s been a year and they still haven’t fulfilled their promises to mitigate harm in the future.

But despite the headlines, lack of representation in news is hardly news. And as of 2018, 83% of all journalists were white, according to the Columbia Journalism Review. Between the protests and the disproportionate impact of COVID-19, Black reporters are overwhelmed with reporting on their own communities while navigating difficult work spaces. You can read their perspective in this Glamour article.

When it comes to dismantling systemic oppression, representation and equity in media reporting is essential. Historically, the media has done more to uphold racial bias against people of color than dismantle it. Racial bias is a form of implicit bias, or the unconscious attitudes or stereotypes that distort our understanding, actions and decisions. Our racial biases are largely influenced by the media and how it chooses to center and elevate people and conversations.

“Not understanding the country’s racial history can unwittingly convince even the best journalists to write about minority groups in ways that can lead to harmful racial stereotypes—or exclude them from coverage all together.

That’s why implicit bias researchers are more concerned with providing journalists with tools to help them recognize their biases than expecting training to automatically lead to changed behavior.”

Issac J. Bailey in How Implicit Bias Works in Journalism in Neiman Reports

Take this study from the Sentencing Project, that looked at the relationship between racial bias and media in crime reporting. Racial distortions are pervasive in crime news. In Los Angeles, 37% of the suspects portrayed on television news stories about crime were Black, but made up of only 21% of those arrested in the city. 42% of televised reports were about a Black person victimizing a white person, but those types of crimes were only 10% of all total cases. Read the full report >

If you prefer, you can listen to a podcast with Nazgol Ghandnoosh, a research analyst for the Sentencing Project, discussing this report on WNYC. Listen >

“Progressive media tends to pat themselves on the back quite a bit because they are comparing themselves to non-progressive media. We could see in the last few weeks how we still have a lot of work to do as a media industry to ensure that stories are told accurately and with respect.”

Morgan DeBaun, founder of Blavity, in an interview with Forbes

And this, of course, isn’t limited to the Black experience. Researchers at the University of Alabama found that terror attacks committed by Muslims received 357 percent more coverage than attacks committed by others. And gender bias has defined how women are treated in the media too, especially as political candidates.

It’s easy for our implicit biases to go unchecked in offices with little diversity, inadequate training on equity, diversity and implicit bias, and an inclusive and welcoming culture…which continues the system as it grows. Like all anti-racism work, it needs to start from the inside out – dismantling the core beliefs, values and habits inside ourselves and the organizations we’re a part of to do this work as fairly as we can.


Diverse media resources (a VERY non-exhaustive list):
Blavity
The 19th
them
Zora
Univision
NYTimes Race Related
NPR Code Switch
Women's Media Center SheSource
(which highlights diverse female voices to go to as experts for specific subjects)
List of black-owned local publications
Media Bias Fact Check, that analyses implicit bias in news
13 Women Of Color In Journalism You Should Know


Thank you for all your financial contributions! If you haven't already, consider making a monthly donation to this work. These funds will help me operationalize this work for greatest impact.

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Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza

Learn how racism is a public health crisis.

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Happy Sunday,

There's been so much urgent news lately it's almost easy to forget that we're living in the midst of a global pandemic. And even as states across the U.S. ease restrictions, infection rates are rising both here and around the world. I'm dedicating space each Sunday to highlight why Black people are disproportionately impacted by COVID-19, because it highlights how widespread and fatal systemic racism is in our society. 

And a hearty welcome to all the new faces! If you can, 
make a contribution via PayPalPatreon or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza). Your support helps keep this a free resource for everyone who can't financially contribute.

Nicole

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TAKE ACTION


1. Research the racial and ethnic disparities of COVID-19 in your state. 

2. Reflect on the following questions if you can – I acknowledge and respect that losing someone to COVID-19 is painful and difficult, and this may not be a good time to reflect:
Do you know someone that has contracted COVID-19?
If so, what underlying factors noted below may have increased the likelihood of contracting the disease?
Which underlying factors didn't affect their relationship to COVID-19?
Which underlying factors could have been more or less severe based on this person's ethnicity?


GET EDUCATED


Systemic racism is everywhere.


The protests over the past week have brought acute attention to the relationship between systemic racism and our law enforcement. Most conversations and protests have been focused on how Black people, particularly Black women and Black trans people, are disproportionately impacted by police violence and harsh incarceration. Calls for reform have been centered on defunding the policeeliminating cash bail, and holding police accountable for their actions. (All links in this paragraph refer previously sent Anti-Racism Daily emails, if you want a refresher)!

But as we push this work forward, we have to remember that systemic racism is pervasive. It's just as present in our criminal justice system as it is in healthcare, in education, in housing, and employment opportunities. It decides who gets to vote and who gets to become a CEO. It's a difficult and complex issue that is easier to understand in specific instances, but has an accumulative impact. Although here at ARD we're breaking down daily actions against specific instances, we also have to remember that all of it is affecting all of us all the time with devastating consequences.

And it's also important to remember that racism doesn't just affect Black people. Although right now we've focused mainly on Black lives, there are so many other people of color affected by racism each day. And remember when we talked about intersectionality? How we are impacted is compounded by other aspects of our identity. And those identities – like our academic background, for example – are also shaped by opportunities based off of race. Whew!

Nothing has exposed this more drastically than COVID-19. This unprecedented global pandemic does not discriminate. People across the globe are affected. But some of us here in America are affected a lot more than others – people of color, particularly Black people. And how can that be? As Kerri Kelly, founder of CTZNWell stated: "this virus doesn't discriminate, but systems do". And because our systemic is inequitable, so is the impact of the disease. Today we'll offer an overview of the relationship between COVID-19 and racism. And for the next few Sundays, we'll dive deeper into some of the specific aspects of society and how they prevent all of us from being well – whether there's a global pandemic or not.

“We know that these racial ethnic disparities in COVID-19 are the result of pre-pandemic realities. It's a legacy of structural discrimination that has limited access to health and wealth for people of color.”

Dr. Marcella Nunez-Smith, director of the Equity Research and Innovation Center at Yale School of Medicine, via this NPR article

African–Americans and COVID-19

First off, let's look at COVID-19 in America. COVID-19 is here and isn't going anywhere. With over 2 million confirmed cases and 113,000 deaths, US is now leading in worldwide tallies, accounting for a total of 26% in confirmed global cases (based on data pulled from here the morning of June 14). And cases aren't slowing. According to this article by TIME magazine, 25 states are continuing to see case counts grow day by day. Four of those states—Arizona, California, Mississippi and North Carolina—have had cases steadily rising since COVID-19 started.

But how is it disproportionately impacting Black people? According to the CDC, almost 1/3 of infections nationwide have affected Black Americans, despite the fact that Black people represent about 13% of the U.S. population. A Yale study found that black Americans are 3.5 times more likely to die of COVID-19 than white Americans. In addition, the team found that Latinx people are almost twice as likely to die of the disease, compared with white people.

And remember that not all states have been reporting data by race/ethnicity this whole time. In fact, this article from John Hopkins' Coronavirus Research Center says racial and ethnic information is currently available for only about 35% of the total deaths in the U.S., which makes it even more difficult to see the full scope of the disparities.

Researchers and medical experts often cite underlying factors that may increase the likelihood of contracting and overcoming the disease. The CDC lists several on their website. We're going to dive into each over the coming weeks, but here's a quick recap below to start reflecting for today's action:

  • Some medical conditions, including heart disease, diabetes, obesity, lung, liver and kidney disease

  • People living in densely crowded areas, including dense neighborhoods, multi-family homes, and jails and prisons

  • Certain occupations that place people in more direct exposure to others, and/or occupations that are deemed essential

  • Pregnancy

  • People experiencing homelessness

  • Not having health insurance

It may not be clear just yet how race and ethnicity play into each of these spaces. We'll unpack them next week. But notice the broad categories. When underlying factors are inherently inequitable, everything becomes more difficult to overcome.


PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT


Thank you for all your financial contributions! If you haven't already, consider making a monthly donation to this work. These funds will help me operationalize this work for greatest impact.

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Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza

Center Black trans lives.

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Happy weekend, and Day 10 of the Anti-Racism Daily 🎉

You may notice your feeds and conversations with friends start to move "back to normal". But remember that there is no such thing as normal anymore. The work of dismantling and reimagining doesn't fade with the protests. In fact, now is the most urgent time to dive deeper. So stay here, with all of us, doing the work each day. 

We're so close to 30,000 subscribers and need your help to make it happen – can you share about us on Facebook and Twitter?

As always, you can give via PayPalPatreon or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza) to keep this work growing.


Nicole

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TAKE ACTION


1. Raise awareness about today's subject using the hashtag #BlackTransLivesMatter

2. Donate to the COVID-19 Relief Fund for Black trans people, hosted by the Marsha P. Johnson Institute.

This cover is the forthcoming issue of Time magazine. Photo taken by photographer Devin Allen showing people lying on the street during a Black Trans Lives Matter protest in Baltimore. Via Axios. 

This cover is the forthcoming issue of Time magazine. Photo taken by photographer Devin Allen showing people lying on the street during a Black Trans Lives Matter protest in Baltimore.
Via Axios


GET EDUCATED


Since the protests began there's been significant shifts in protecting Black lives. But as the Black Lives Matter movement takes hold across the country (and around the world) the narrative about the violence against Black trans people often gets left behind. We touched on this briefly when we discussed Breonna Taylor in an email from last week.

In just this past week alone, two Black transgender women were reported dead: 25-year-old Riah Milton was murdered in an attempted robbery in Ohio, and Dominique “Rem'mie” Fells was killed in Philadelphia. According to the HRC, this marks at least the 13th violent death of a transgender or gender non-conforming person this year in the U.S., but because violence against this community is systemically underreported, that number is believed to be much larger.

And throughout the protests the stories Black trans people who were victims of police violence, like Tony McDade, got lost in the larger conversation around Black Lives Matter. Remember that centering those that are most vulnerable is critically important in movement work, because a specific community's distinct pain can be minimized when lumped in with others. 

And that's clear when we look at our political system as a whole. Although there's been significant political progress to protect Black lives over the past few weeks, there's still very few legal protections for the transgender community. The HRC, reflecting on the death of Dominique “Rem'mie” Fells, note that "at the state level, transgender and gender non-conforming people in Pennsylvania are not explicitly protected in employment, housing or in public spaces. They are also not covered under the state’s hate crimes legislation". Read more in their 2019 report >

And as all of this unfolds, Trump chose yesterday to erase transgender civil rights protections in health care. By narrowing the legal definition of sex discrimination so that it does not include protections for transgender people, Trump has reversed part of the Affordable Care Act from 2010, which bans discrimination based on race, color, national origin, sex, age or disability in “any health program or activity".

June is Pride Month in the U.S. so it's all the more critical to center the needs for our LGBTQ+ community during the movement for Black lives – especially because their liberation are so closely intertwined. No one defines that more distinctly than Marsha P. Johnson, a black, transgender leader that paved the way for both Black and LGBTQ+ rights in America. Known as a self-identified drag queen, performer, and survivor, she was a prominent figure in the Stonewall Uprising of June 1969, one of the most important events leading to the gay liberation movement. She, alongside her friend Sylvia Rivera, a legendary transgender activist of Venezuelan and Puerto Rican descent, centered the lives of Black and brown transgender lives throughout their work for decades. Now, as the Black Lives Matter movement forges on, we must too.

“What happens is that black trans people are erased and made invisible in society, but then we actually disappear in our deaths.”

Kei Williams,  a founding member of the Black Lives Matter global network and a national organizer at the Marsha P. Johnson Institute, in an interview with The Lily


Thank you for all your financial contributions! If you haven't already, consider making a monthly donation to this work. These funds will help me operationalize this work for greatest impact.

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Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza

Celebrate Loving Day.

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It's Friday!

And it's Loving Day, which we're diving into deep with our first guest editor. In case you missed it, we now have an 
archives section of our website where you can view all previous emails. I've also increased the font size in these emails for readability – thanks for that feedback!

Thanks for your financial support! You can 
give one-time on PayPalstart a subscription on Patreon, or send Venmo to @nicoleacardoza.  

Nicole

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TAKE ACTION


1. Spread the word about Loving Day using the steps outlined on their website.

2. Listen to audio from the Loving v. Virginia court case on NPR.


GET EDUCATED


From The Lovings: An Intimate Portrait photographed by Grey Villet

From The Lovings: An Intimate Portrait photographed by Grey Villet

What does Loving Day represent?

On June 12, 1967, the U.S. Supreme Court justices ruled in favor of Loving v. Virginia for interracial marriagesThe unanimous decision upheld that distinctions drawn based on race were not constitutional.
 

Who are the Lovings?

Richard Loving and Mildred Jeter were a couple from Virginia. Richard, who identified as white, and Mildred, a woman of mixed African American and Native American ancestry, were longtime friends who had fallen in love. They got married in 1958 in Washington, DC, where interracial marriage was legal at the time, and then returned home to Virginia.

On July 11, 1958, just five weeks after their wedding, the Lovings were woken in their bed at 2am by the police, who entered unlawfully, and were arrested by the local sheriff.

  • Side note: in March 2020 Breonna Taylor and her partner were also visited in the middle of the night by the police without a warrant. She lost her life, and her killers have still not been arrested. We featured her story and ways to help in an email last week. Check it out >

Richard and Mildred were indicted on charges of violating Virginia’s anti-miscegenation law, which deemed interracial marriages a felony. The court case ruled that they were be exiled from Virginia for 25 years. Mildred Loving wrote a letter to the US Attorney General – Robert F. Kennedy – asking for help. Kennedy referred the Lovings to the ACLU, which agreed to take their case. Read more >

U.S. Supreme Court ruled unanimously in favor of the Lovings on June 12, 1967, and as a result 16 states were forced to overturn their anti-miscegenation laws, too. Alabama was the last state to abolish their law in 2000 (and no, this is not a typo).
 

What did this conversation say about race?
 

This case was undoubtedly a monumental win for civil rights, especially because there's so much ugliness hiding in the details of the court casee. If you read the court case in full, you can review what the Loving couple and all interracial marriages were up against. The state of Virginia's rules against interracial marriages, outlined in the Racial Integrity Act and echoed by many other states until this ruling, were meant "'to preserve the racial integrity of its citizens,' and to prevent 'the corruption of blood,' 'a mongrel breed of citizens,' and 'the obliteration of racial pride,' obviously an endorsement of the doctrine of White Supremacy". 

The state created a defense that compared anti-miscegenation statutes to the right to prohibit incest, polygamy, and underage marriage. They defended that children of interracial marriages would be victims, ineligible to own rights to land, and should not have to suffer from their parents' decision to wed. You can listen to audio from this court case on NPR

“We fail to see how any reasonable man can but conclude that these laws are slavery laws were incepted to keep slaves in their place, were prolonged to keep the slaves in their place, and in truth, the Virginia law still view the Negro race as a slave race, that these are the most odious laws to come before the court. They robbed the Negro race of its dignity and only a decision which will reach the full body of these laws in the State of Virginia will change that.”

From 'Illicit Cohabitation': Listen To 6 Stunning Moments From Loving V. Virginia on NPR



GUEST EDITOR


By Bonkosi Horn

As of 2015, one in six newlyweds are married to someone of a different race or ethnicity. Today's guest editor is Bonkosi Horn, co-founder and Creative Director of Freedom Apothecary. She shares her experience as a biracial woman.

I am many things.

Amongst those many things, one of them that I am most proud of, most grateful for and most challenged by is this one: I am biracial.

I am the product of a beloved, dynamic and unique interracial marriage. I am 50% white Iowan. I am 50% black Congolese. I am no more one than I am the other. I am the child of both of my parents, which may not fit into the narrative so many want to have about my own personal experience. The choosing of sides, of identifying with one part of my whole being over another. 

This is not a ‘what I am’ but a ‘who I am;’ it’s how I see the world, experience the world and move through the world in this light-brown skin of mine. My biracial, multicultural identity is the very thing that shaped every interaction I had growing up surrounded by my white family from very small-town Iowa to the traditionally Congolese parties I hated going to as a girl and continues to this day, married to a black man, with black children in this very black city of Philadelphia.

We exist in a country where it’s easier for us to see things in black and white because anything else makes things confusing, makes us uncomfortable; the blending of cultures and of colors puts us somewhere on a spectrum that’s hard to pinpoint. And so I know that walking down the street, you see with your eyes a woman with my skin, living in this body, a black woman, which I get to be. But I also don’t exist in this body to make you comfortable, to suit your needs or for you to label who or what I am — I get to decide that for myself.

I am so many more things if you open your eyes.

Read her full story in this 2014 journal post >


PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT


Thank you for all your financial contributions! If you haven't already, consider making a monthly donation to this work. These funds will help me operationalize this work for greatest impact.

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