Make the justice system more diverse.

The death of Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg is heart-wrenching. Her loss is likely to transform the upcoming election. Although our influence on the federal Supreme Court nomination is limited, there's a lot more we can do to promote judicial diversity throughout state and federal courts. Today we dive into the importance of representation and the true weight of this election.

Thank you for all your support! You can give one-time on our website, PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe for $5/mo on our Patreon.

– Nicole

TAKE ACTION

1. Vote this November for a President that is more likely to choose a diverse, liberal Supreme Court nominee. Hint: it’s not Trump.

2. Nominations for Supreme Court justices are confirmed by the United States Senate, which is currently a Republican majority. It takes four seats to flip the Senate to a Democratic majority, which, based on current news, is more likely to confirm a liberal judge. Choose a Senate state battleground and support a candidate more likely to confirm a diverse, liberal Supreme Court nominee (Ballotpedia). Donate, phone bank, or volunteer if you’re in-state.

3. Support the MCCA LMJ Scholarship, which grants scholarships of $10,000 to students for their first year of law school to increase the diversity pipeline. Learn more and donate.

GET EDUCATED

Ruth Bader Ginsburg, the second woman to serve on the Supreme Court known for her advocacy for women’s rights, passed away Friday from complications from metastatic pancreatic cancer. She was 87 (NYTimes).

And as the nation mourns the loss of this trailblazing individual, the Trump administration is wasting no time to appoint a replacement. Trump released his shortlist of potential judges a couple of weeks ago, many of whom are men, nearly all are white, and all represent conservative views and values (NYTimes). If the administration does move forward, it will ensure that our Supreme Court has a conservative majority for years to come. Six of the nine seats would be held by Republican appointees (NYTimes). Justice Ginsburg was keenly aware of this, and days before her death, she dictated this statement to her granddaughter Clara Spera: "My most fervent wish is that I will not be replaced until a new president is installed” (NPR).

Our nation is in the midst of an upheaval, one that is likely to transform the fabric of our democracy. That will be cemented through the decisions of our federal judicial system, particularly our federal Supreme Court. The added weight of choosing a Supreme Court nominee is likely to upend this election. Read more about the most significant Supreme Court cases in our history, many of which defined the rights and opportunities for marginalized individuals (Business Insider).

Although our Supreme Court justices hold significant power in the federal system, we can also do more to build a more diverse pipeline and increase representation across the federal justice system. The Supreme Court makes less than 100 decisions on cases each year, and although they are critical, many more are decided by the 94 federal district courts, and the 13 circuit courts that act as the first level of appeal (U.S. Department of Justice). It's critical we increase representation here, too, as we try to chart a more equitable future for us all.

Let’s start with the facts. As of 2019, more than 73% of sitting federal judges are men. 80% identify as white. Of the 20% that identify as people of color, 10% are African American, 6% are Hispanic/Latinx representation, and 2.6% are Asian. And there are only two American Indian judges sitting on the federal bench, making up just 0.1 percent of the federal judiciary compared with 0.7 percent of the U.S. population. In addition, less than 1% of judges publicly identify as LGBTQ+ (Center for American Progress). The first judge of color on the Supreme Court, Justice Thurgood Marshall, was appointed in 1967, 191 years after the founding of America (Washington Post).

The Minority Corporate Counsel Association (MCCA) has an active list of judges based on race/ethnicity and gender in each district, and a list of the diversity of judges appointed by each president through history (MCCA). The authors of the Center for American Progress study note that there’s no publicly available data on judges with a disability, which is “problematic and deserves more attention” (Center for American Progress).

Data for state courts is also disappointing. Only 15% of state supreme court seats nationwide are “held by individuals who are Black, Asian, Latino, or Native American,” and women hold 36% of state supreme court seats. This means that 24 states currently have an all-white supreme court bench, including eight states in which people of color are at least 25% of the state’s population (Brennan Center).

A few former presidents – both Democratic and Republican – have committed to diversifying the federal judiciary, including President Carter and President Clinton. But President Obama made the most significant strides. Out of his 324 judicial nominees during his presidency, over 60% were people of color, women, and sexual or gender minorities. He also nominated and confirmed more women than any other president in history (Center for American Progress). These efforts have regressed during the current administration; President Trump’s judicial picks, who have been 91% white and 81% male, are “the least racially and ethnically diverse of any presidential administration over the past 30 years” (Center for American Progress).

This might be considered common sense, but it’s important to note: the diversity of a federal judiciary increases the likelihood that decisions will represent the needs of marginalized communities. Judge Tashima, who was appointed in 1996, lived in an internment camp as a child during World War II. Read more about internment camps and the use of the word “internment” in a previous newsletter. He spoke about how that experience influenced his decision-making. The data proves it: he voted for more equal protection opinions since being appointed compared to his Ninth Circuit colleagues (California Lawyers Association).

“Because we are all creatures of our past, I have no doubt that my life experiences, including the evacuation and internment, have shaped the way I view my job as a federal judge and the skepticism that I sometimes bring to the representations and motives of the other branches of government”.

Atsushi Wallace Tashima, Senior United States Circuit Judge of the United States Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit, via California Lawyers Association.

Furthermore, studies conducted on federal appellate courts have found that one female judge’s presence will increase the likelihood that male judges will make decisions for cases involving sexual harassment or discrimination will be in favor of the defendant. It also found that having at least one Black judge increases the likelihood that non-Black judges will support plaintiffs claiming violations of both the Voting Rights Act and affirmative action cases (Princeton).

A more diverse court would also sway public trust, which is increasingly important as younger voters feel disillusioned by our political system. At the 1999 National Conference on Public Trust and Confidence in the Justice System, three pressing issues were identified: unequal treatment in the justice system, high cost of access to the justice system, and lack of public understanding (Perceptions of Fairness and Diversity in the Florida Courts). A 2014 Pew Research Center survey found that 68% of Black people feel that the courts mistreat Black people, compared to 27% of white people, and 40% of people who identify as Hispanic (Pew Research Center).

“People look at an institution and they see people who are like them, who share their experiences, who they imagine share their set of values, and that’s a sort of natural thing and they feel more comfortable if that occurs.”
Elena Kagan, Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States, via NYTimes.

Part of creating a more diverse federal judiciary is diversifying the pipeline, which means dismantling the historical racism and discrimination embedded in our education system. It also means recruiting and retaining candidates in associate positions. Despite progress from years prior, recent data indicates that outcomes have stagnated, and in some cases, regressed (NYC Bar). A particular concern is attrition. In 2016, 36.2% of first-year associates represented marginalized communities, but by the eighth year, that percentage dropped to 20.5%, a significantly higher attrition rate than white associates during the same period (NYC Bar). And public criticism of the federal judiciary system can dissuade talented candidates from pursuing future opportunities.

But progress isn't completely unfounded. Consider the latest news from Colorado. In the past year and a half, Colorado’s Democratic governor has appointed more Black women to the statewide bench than his 42 predecessors combined (Essence). There are currently 8 Black women judges serving concurrently on Colorado’s statewide judiciary. In the world of business, the MCCA reports that the number of female general counsels and general counsels of color at Fortune 1000 companies is the highest recorded in the past 15 years (law.com).

By January 2021, over 200 federal will be eligible for senior status, which means new candidates can take their place. And of those 200 judges, more than half are white males (Center for American Progress). Despite our outrage over the federal Supreme Court composition, deciding who to nominate is up to the president. It’s up to us to use our voices to influence decisions on the federal and state level and invest in diverse candidates to support qualified candidates.

Key Takeaways

The death of Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg has made the appointment of a new Supreme Court justice a critical component of the upcoming election
Efforts to increase representation in the federal judiciary have been dismantled by the Trump administration
Diversity of the federal judiciary influences public perception of the political system
Increasing the diversity pipeline can help ensure more diverse candidates are nominated and confirmed
We must vote for a president that will nominate a diverse Supreme Court justice candidate, and ensure a Senate that's more likely to confirm one

RELATED ISSUES

9/9/2020 | Make the census count.

8/9/2020 | Understand the unemployment gap | COVID-19

7/23/2020 | Know our racist presidential history.

7/21/2020 | Honor the legacy of Rep. John Lewis.

7/20/2020 | Protect your community from the harm of gentrification.

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

Nicole Cardoza 9/19/20 Nicole Cardoza 9/19/20

Study Hall! Equity v. equality and the burden on WOC.

Welcome to our weekly Study Hall. Each week I answer questions and share insights from each of you in our community. This week I dove deeper on some pressing topics from our community.

Ironically, I wrote most of this on a plane before I learned of the passing of Ruth Bader Ginsberg. Now, as I add the last touches, I write with both deep sorrow and appreciation of her legacy.

If you'd prefer to receive just one email a week, this is the email you'd receive. You can change your email preferences by updating your profile information here.

As always, your support is greatly appreciated. You can give one-time on our website, PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe for $5/mo on our Patreon.

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Reflect on the questions prompted by our community.
Ask yourself two questions about one of the topics we discussed this week. Discuss these questions with a friend or colleague.

GET EDUCATED

In review: The newsletters we published this week.

9/18/2020 | Reject racial gaslighting.

9/17/2020 | Abolish ICE.

9/16/2020 | Fight for paid sick leave.

9/15/2020 | End Hollywood whitewashing.

9/14/2020 | Stop the use of ketamine in arrests.

9/13/2020 | Understand representation in vaccine trials.

Q+A

Do you have any recommendations on words to diffuse the gaslighting?

From 9/18/2020 | Reject racial gaslighting.

Jacquelyn Ogorchukwu Iyamah is a social wellness designer that consistently unpacks interpersonal racism on her Instagram. In an article with Refinery29, she offers the following for Black people that may experience this:

"calling out: publicly pointing out the person’s harmful behaviour"
"calling in: scheduling a one-on-one with the person to discuss their behaviour"
"removing yourself from the conversation to preserve your energy and peace of mind, writing down exactly what happened so that you can refer back to it if you find yourself questioning your truth, or sending the person educational resources and establishing boundaries around the person who racially gaslighted you to limit your interactions with them."

For those with white privilege, I encourage sticking with the conversation on behalf of the communities of color that have to deal with it.

Q+A

Why would anyone even work at ICE, to begin with, especially a Black woman, considering how long allegations of abuse have been happening?

9/17/2020 | Abolish ICE.

Let's start with the professional aspect of this conversation. Dawn Wooten is a licensed professional nurse, a role that has increasingly limited opportunities in the healthcare industry, driven in part by the industry's history to disregard women of color and queer practitioners. Monica McLemore breaks this down further on Twitter.

Our society is quick to place the blame and burden on women, particularly women of color, for transgressions like these. Here is no different. Just because our bodies are on the line does not make them the shields for harm. And it's unfair to ask people who are already barred from equal opportunities to sacrifice themselves and their families' wellbeing and leave the system. That is certainly their right, but not their obligation.

I don't know Dawn Wooten personally and can't speak for her. No one should have to. It's not productive to blame anyone – especially people from marginalized communities – individually for this system of abuse (especially if she did speak out against it).

Q+A

I have spoken with people about this, and their response to me is that only 13% of the United States is Black, so why would this group get more representation than that? This is not an idea I agree with, but what would be a factual response that explains that?

9/15/2020 | End Hollywood whitewashing.

A few people had questions about this survey generally, which wasn't aiming to only demonstrate general stats on the ethnic breakdown, but the fact that there's been little to no change over the course of six years, even though our country is rapidly diversifying. I haven't seen a more recent study with this breadth of data yet.

I'd also consider the movies and roles that may have increased representation on film during these times. Films like 12 Years A Slave, The Help, and The Butler may have contributed to Black actors' representation, and all display Black people enslaved or in servitude. Consider that the two Black women that won Oscars during this time frame were playing Black women overcoming racism and/or horrific violence because of their identity (Halle Berry in Monster's Ball and Lupita N'gonyo for 12 Years A Slave). As did Morgan Freeman, who won the Best Actor role for his depiction of Nelson Mandela, and Chiwetel Ejiofor for 12 Years A Slave.

Let's say these movies and the resulting representation did represent the breadth of stories and narratives that the film industry produces each year. Looking at racism as percentage points aren't enough. That's a lens of "equality" – that everyone gets resources based on population size. But it doesn't take into account the struggles and difficulties that some people have to get there. When it comes to representation in film, likely, we've only just gotten to proportional representation based on population size. It certainly hasn't always been like this, and the movies we're heralding are still perpetuating limited stories of Black people and their experiences.

In my opinion, we need to look at this from the point of equity: what's "proportional" based on the systemic inequities that people have color experienced? What are the systems that have caused this to exist? What would it look like if the industry was truly celebrating Black actors and filmmakers, and a breadth of stories and perspectives?

Q+A

If people of all races are biologically the same, why does there need to be diverse representation for drug trials?

From 9/13/2020 | Understand representation in vaccine trials.

The importance of diverse representation is to ensure that a wide range of health conditions and genetic compositions are represented in the trials. We've discussed in previous newsletters how racism – not race – can shift health outcomes for various populations. It's important to ensure that they're all represented.

It's also equitable, based on our history of medical bias and violence, for us to establish a more equitable practice of testing with broader populations. It means reconciling the deep rifts of distrust, including more diverse medical professionals and institutions, and holding ourselves accountable for a more equitable healthcare system.

Clarifications

9/17/2020 | Abolish ICE.
In our story on forced sterilization, we referenced how transgender people are being forced by state laws to undergo surgery to have their gender legally recognized. The term used by the source we referenced was “sex reassignment surgery,” but the preferred term in the trans community is “gender confirmation surgery”. We have corrected this language in our archives.

9/5/2020 | Study Hall! Defund the police or add more training?

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 9/18/20 Nicole Cardoza 9/18/20

Reject racial gaslighting.

It's Friday! And we're introducing a new term to the newsletter: racial gaslighting.

This plays a major part in the systemic medical violence we've unpacked over the past week. And it's playing out in politics. When people and systems minimize the pain and trauma that people of color experience, they shield themselves from accountability and allow that harm to continue. Jami offers some specific examples of how this plays out in various spaces, and particularly how it impacts women of color.

Tomorrow is Saturday, where we host our weekly Study Hall. Reply to this email with any questions or insights from the content we covered this past week and I'll do my best to get to them!

Thank you for all your support! You can give one-time on our website, PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe for $5/mo on our Patreon.

– Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Watch how you and your friends/colleagues respond to the experiences of people of color. Consider how they may be gaslighting based on their comments, and inform them on why their approach is harmful.
If you’re considering two sides to a story, make sure you think about the power dynamics between the parties (in race, gender, age, position, etc.)
Don’t support businesses or organizations that deny or undermine the experiences of people of color.
Consider how racial gaslighting may play a part of the rhetoric of the upcoming election.

GET EDUCATED

By Jami Nakamura Lin (she/her)

In March, Margot Gage Witvliet developed coronavirus symptoms after a trip to Europe. Four months later, many of those symptoms still remain, putting her in the camp of what are known as “long-haulers”--coronavirus patients whose symptoms persist for months, deviating from the typically understood trajectory of the illness (read more about her experience at The Conversation). The experience of long-haulers is finally receiving more attention, but for many sufferers, it’s too little, too late.

“Employers have told long-haulers that they couldn’t possibly be sick for that long. Friends and family members accused them of being lazy. Doctors refused to believe they had COVID-19… This ‘medical gaslighting,’ whereby physiological suffering is downplayed as a psychological problem such as stress or anxiety, is especially bad for women, and even worse for women of color,” writes Ed Yong in his thorough examination of long-haulers, whose numbers could potentially be in the hundreds of thousands (The Atlantic).

Most of our popular understanding of the term gaslighting is within the context of abusive relationships, as that is the context of the term’s origin (BBC). Gaslighting is a psychological method of manipulation used to deny the victim’s experience and make them question their reality, judgment, and sanity (Britannica). The goal is to make the victim dependent on the deceiver.

But gaslighting can also happen on a structural level. Instead of an individual abuser, the gaslighter is an abusive system denying the reality of entire groups and communities in order to perpetuate power imbalances. “Gaslighting is a structural phenomenon… It is a technique of violence that produces asymmetric harms for different populations,” writes Elena Ruiz, a professor of philosophy and American Indian and Indigenous Studies (PhilArchive).

Women as a whole are often targets of gaslighting (read the American Sociological Review for how gaslighting relates to gender-based stereotypes and inequality), and articles warning women about gaslighting techniques abound. Less is said in popular media about racial gaslighting, which specifically refers to “the political, social, economic and cultural process that perpetuates and normalizes a white supremacist reality through pathologizing those who resist” (Politics, Groups, and Identities Journal). Racial gaslighting says: the system is not broken, you are broken.

These are things that most readers versed in anti-racism work will already know (that the system blames people of color instead of itself), but looking at them as forms of gaslighting can help understand how such psychological manipulation is intertwined at the individual and structural levels. Interpersonal gaslighting (within relationships) is usually successful because of systemic gaslighting because the relationship is “rooted in social inequalities” (American Sociological Association). The framework can help us understand how white supremacy remains entrenched in our society.

Such racial gaslighting appears in many different areas. An academic study on a police force in Hamilton, Ontario, found that the way the police explained away their ID and carding tactics was a form of gaslighting. In their media appearances, the police used “obfuscation techniques” (lies, misrepresentations) to undermine local people of color, who had been arguing that the police’s carding techniques were discriminatory. They used gaslighting to deny their own structural racism (SAGE Publishing).

In the field of medicine, gaslighting happens when health professionals minimize, ignore, or disbelieve patients’ symptoms and experiences (Health). Examples of this include doctors blaming physical symptoms on mental illness without justification, or providers refusing to request follow-up tests because they don’t believe their patients. Medical gaslighting is especially pernicious because of the inherent power differential between doctors and their patients, even before adding in the intersections of gender and race. Doctors have been socialized to take female patients (NY Times) and patients of color less seriously, and medical professionals still hold many racial biases (National Institute of Health). While practitioners usually participate in medical gaslighting without meaning to harm their patients, individual intent doesn’t mitigate the systemic impact. Their disregard has dire health outcomes, as explained in our recent newsletters on Black maternal health and Black mental health.

“Missteps and misunderstandings, even by well-seasoned medical professionals, are human, but medical gaslighting is not. Normal test results in patients with chronic pain, unexplained sensitivities to the world, or fatigue should provoke more investigation, rather than a weak handoff.”

Dr. Anne Maitland for Op Med

A 2016 study by patient safety experts suggests that medical error is the third-leading cause of death in America, resulting in over 250,000 deaths per year (Johns Hopkins). But medical error is not nearly as widely researched as other causes of deaths, and we don’t know how many deaths per year can be attributed to medical gaslighting.

What we do know is that medical gaslighting especially affects patients of color. One doctor described the stereotypes patients of color with myalgic encephalomyelitis (a mostly invisible illness with symptoms similar to those of COVID long-haulers) faced: Black and South Asian patients were suspected of faking their symptoms to avoid work, while East Asian patients’ symptoms were thought to be the result of working too much (ME Action). In other words, their actual medical conditions were dismissed and attributed instead to racist stereotypes.

Think about the words of Canadian policy expert Emily Riddle: “To be an Indigenous woman in this country is to intimately understand both interpersonal and systemic gaslighting… Any Indigenous woman who questions anyone who demeans her or a system that perpetuates violence against her is bound to be called difficult.” (The Globe and Mail). To effectively combat the effects of systemic gaslighting in our own thinking, we need to question not just what we believe, but who we believe.

Key Takeaways

A whistleblower filed a complaint against ICE for “medical neglect" at the detention camp she worked at, including mass hysterectomies without detainees' content
Forced sterilization was a state-sanctioned practice, often funded by the federal government, that disproportionately impacted women and women of color during the 19th century
Forced sterilizations procedures are sexist, xenophobic, racist, and ableist, and often homophobic
Unwanted sterilizations are still happening today

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 9/17/20 Nicole Cardoza 9/17/20

Abolish ICE.

This is the third time I've referenced forced sterilizations in our newsletters over the past two weeks. And this time it's with a new and harrowing story. It's heartbreaking to see how our history keeps repeating itself, and the lasting implications of generations of violence against communities of color. This story is still developing, but our persistent action will ensure this conversation doesn't fade away. The violence that's been happening at these camps are an act of genocide.

If you're enjoying these newsletters, consider making a contribution to support our work. You can give one-time on our website, PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe for $5/mo on our Patreon.

– Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Sign United We Dream’s petition to release immigrants and asylum‐seekers at detention centers.
Support the GoFundMe of Dawn Wooten, a Black single mother of five who risked her job and safety as a whistleblower.
Call your senators and urge them to defund ICE, which operates under DHS.
Follow and support the voices that have been telling us about the atrocities happening at detention centers: Project South, Georgia Detention Watch, Georgia Latino Alliance for Human Rights, and South Georgia Immigrant Support Network

GET EDUCATED

By Nicole Cardoza (she/her)

This week, a whistleblower filed a complaint with the Department of Homeland Security’s Office of the Inspector General about “medical neglect” practiced at an ICE facility in Georgia. Dawn Wooten, a nurse at the Irwin County Detention Center (ICDC), reported that the facility was underreporting COVID-19 cases and not correctly testing or protecting staff and detainees (The Intercept). She also reported that the immigrants are being subjected to a high rate of hysterectomies without “proper informed consent” (The Intercept).

“I became a whistleblower; now I’m a target. But I’ll take a target any day to do what’s right and just, than sit and be a part of what’s inhumane.”
Dawn Wooten

Before we continue, I think it needs to be made clear that the allegations of medical neglect during a global pandemic alone should be enough for us to call for change. The forced separations of families are enough to call for change. In fact, the fact that these detention centers even exist is more than enough for me. We need to abolish ICE for the system itself, not just because we're hearing more allegations about forced sterilizations.

The latter allegation in particular has spurred lawmakers and advocacy groups into action. Organizers of the complaint, along with Wooten, include Project South, Georgia Detention Watch, Georgia Latino Alliance for Human Rights, and South Georgia Immigrant Support Network, and consists of the voices of detained immigrants that have “reported human rights abuses including lack of medical and mental health care, due process violations, unsanitary living conditions” since 2017 (Project South). They've been rallying to close this facility – and others – for years, and detainees have specifically complained about the rough treatment from the same gynecologist that's accused (AJC).

168 members of Congress sent a letter urging DHS Inspector General Joseph Cuffari to investigate the allegations (Congresswoman Jayapal website). They're demanding to know the status of the investigation by September 25th (NPR).

These allegations are horrifying. And, these allegations are nothing new. As we discussed in two newsletters over the past two weeks, our country has a history of medical violence, particularly against women and women of color. These procedures are sexist, xenophobic, racist, and ableist, and often homophobic. And they’re an act of violence against marginalized people, many of whom rely on the same institutions for their protection.

To understand this, we have to start with eugenics, the practice of improving the human species by “breeding out” disease, disabilities, and other characteristics from the human population (History). The concept gained traction in the U.S. in the early 1900s with the creation of the Race Betterment Foundation, led by John Harvey Kellogg – yes, that Kellogg (History). Through their “registry” of “pedigree” status and a series of national conferences, they promoted the idea that to improve the country, we needed to preserve the racial status of those that inhabit it (History). This meant that people that did not fit this category – including immigrants, Black people, Indigenous people, poor white people, and people with disabilities – needed to be maintained.

Via CNN: Eugenics had won such mainstream acceptance that Americans competed in "fitter families" contests at state fairs during the 1920s.

From this, 31 states sanctioned sterilizations. Many were presented to individuals as “protective” measures to prevent their “undesirable” traits from passing to others. But many more were nonconsensual, performed when patients believed they were receiving other forms of care (The Conversation). And although the programs initially targeted men, they quickly evolved to focus on women and women of color – particularly as the country began to desegregate.

From 1950 to 1966, Black women were 3x more likely to be sterilized than white women, and more than 12x the rate of white men (The Conversation). Hospitals in the South let medical students practice unnecessary hysterectomies on Black women, a practice so common it was given the euphemism “Mississippi appendectomies” (The Cut).

The U.S. Indian Health Service (IHS) applied forced sterilized over 3,000 Indigenous women in the U.S. in 1973 and 1976. A study from two years earlier found that at least one in four Indigenous women had been sterilized without consent (Minn Post).

In California alone, over 20,000 people were sterilized, and were disproportionately Latinx, primarily individuals from Mexico (Smithsonian). During that time, anti-Mexican sentiment was spurred by theories that Mexican immigrants and Mexican-Americans were at a “lower racial level” than white people (Internet Archives).

Via The Conversation: A pamphlet extolling the benefit of selective sterilization published by the Human Betterment League of North Carolina, 1950. North Carolina State Documents Collection/State Library of North Carolina

By 1976, over 60,000 people were recorded sterilized in 32 states during the 20th century (Huffington Post).

Although the Supreme Court moved to end these practices in 1974, these practices are still happening. Between 1997 and 2010, unwanted sterilizations were performed on approximately 1,400 women in California prisons, which primarily targeted women of color (Fox News). A judge in Tennessee offered those incarcerated thirty days off jail time if they volunteered for vasectomies or contraceptive implants, saying that he hoped repeat offenders would “make something of themselves” (Washington Post). Ten states still require transgender people to obtain proof of surgery, a court order, or an amended birth certificate to update their driver’s licenses – and 17 states require sex reassignment surgery to update birth certificate gender markers (The Daily Beast). And there are still terrifying stories of forcible sterilizations happening on people with disabilities deemed constitutional by the courts (Rewire News).

There’s been jokes and memes floating around that we’re “officially” living in the dystopian Handmaid’s Tale. But we’re not. We’re living in the reality of the United States. And when we distance ourselves from this painful reality, we allow it to persist. As investigators race to verify these allegations, we cannot continue to allow any injustices to continue in these spaces. We must keep listening and supporting to the voices that have been shouting this to us for years – that these institutions must be dismantled. The costs are far too great.

Key Takeaways

A whistleblower filed a complaint against ICE for “medical neglect" at the detention camp she worked at, including mass hysterectomies without detainees' content
Forced sterilization was a state-sanctioned practice, often funded by the federal government, that disproportionately impacted women and women of color during the 19th century
Forced sterilizations procedures are sexist, xenophobic, racist, and ableist, and often homophobic
Unwanted sterilizations are still happening today

RELATED ISSUES

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 9/16/20 Nicole Cardoza 9/16/20

Fight for paid sick leave.

It's Wednesday!

And we're unpacking the importance of paid sick leave as we head into fall in the midst of a pandemic. Ebony shares more about the importance of paid sick leave, particularly for marginalized communities. Luckily, recent legislation has passed for Philadelphia and California, showing that local advocacy efforts are generating results. Join in by examination paid sick leave legislation in your city and state, and consider how you can encourage the same policies at your workplace.

If you're enjoying these newsletters, consider making a contribution to support our work. You can give one-time on our website, PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe for $5/mo on our Patreon.

– Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Support the Healthy Families Act by signing this petition, which urges Congress to pass a national sick leave policy.
If you live in a state or city that has enacted a paid sick leave law, know your rights by researching how you are protected as an employee. Use this resource to get started.
Reach out to your local politicians and ask them to create a paid sick leave law for your city/state.

GET EDUCATED

By Ebony Bellamy (she/her)

As COVID-19 cases continue to rise and flu season quickly creeps upon us, the Center for Disease Control and Prevention has emphasized that reducing the spread of germs and respiratory illnesses is extremely important this fall and winter (CDC). And the best way to reduce the spread of both is for individuals to stay home when they’re feeling sick. However, this isn’t a luxury many workers have since there is no national sick leave policy in place.

The workers who are most affected by this are people of color and immigrants. For immigrants, only 50% have paid sick days compared to 60% of their native-born counterparts (The Center for Law and Policy). At the same time, more than 7.3 million Black workers can’t earn a single paid sick day (National Partnership for Women and Families). That’s roughly 40% of Black employees, and of those workers, 41% are Black men, and 36% are Black women (National Partnership for Women and Families).

And these numbers are even higher within the Latinx community. Despite them having the “highest labor force participation rate of any racial or ethnic group in the US and the fastest-growing segment of the workforce,” almost 15 million Latinx workers are unable to earn a single paid sick day (National Partnership for Women and Families). This includes 55% of Latinx men and 51% of Latinx women (National Partnership for Women and Families).

With Black and Latinx people primarily being paid less than their white and Asian counterparts, they can’t afford to take a day off. The median weekly earnings, in 2020, for full-time Black workers are $806 and $786 for Latinx workers while full-time white workers earn about $1,018 (Bureau of Labor Statistics).

Compared to 83% of full-time workers who receive paid sick days, only 43% of part-time workers have paid sick leave (The Center for Law and Policy). With over 4 million people working fewer hours than they’d like and having to work multiple part-time jobs to support themselves and their families, they’re less likely to have guaranteed paid sick leave (The Center for Law and Policy).

Unfortunately, workers with low-wage jobs are more likely to deal with financial burdens. For example, more than 30% of black households have no savings or assets to utilize if a family member unexpectedly loses their job (National Partnership for Women and Families). And as of 2015, more than one in five black families were living in poverty (National Partnership for Women and Families). The same is true for Latinx families. Approximately 27% of Latinx households have no savings or assets to utilize during an unexpected loss of income. As of 2018, more than one in six Latinx families was living in poverty (National Partnership for Women and Families).

For low-income families, missing a few days of work can equate to losing a month’s worth of groceries, missing a rent payment, or not being able to pay a majority of their bills. But, maintaining perfect attendance at work means being able to feed their family, not being homeless, and not going into debt.

A lack of sick leave is extremely devastating to those who also serve as caregivers. Not only are they risking their health, but they’re risking the health of family members since they don’t have time to attend or prioritize medical appointments and emergencies (Essence). One in five Black people act as a caregiver to an adult family member or someone close to them, and 52% of these caregivers work full time (National Partnership for Women and Families). While more than one-quarter of Latinx individuals live in multigenerational households, so about 20% of them are caregivers for loved ones (National Partnership for Women and Families).

People of color need paid sick leave so that they can take care of themselves and their families. Yet, only 13 states and Washington D.C. have enacted laws that require employers to offer paid sick leaves. Depending on the state, you can receive one hour of sick leave for every 30, 35, or 40 hours of work. Some states require more, and those hours equate to three to seven paid sick days (National Conference of State Legislature). Unfortunately, each state has specific guidelines that determine who qualifies for paid sick leave, so do your research because not all employees are covered.

Even though some states have a paid sick leave policy in place, people of color are often reluctant to take advantage of it. A Pew Research study found that 69% of employees took less sick leaves because they couldn’t afford to lose money, while 47% were afraid they would risk losing their job if they asked for a sick day (Essence).

And some people don’t even know paid sick leave is an option for them. About one in five people don’t know if their employers offer any form of paid leave for situations such as routine doctor appointments, minor illnesses, and vacations (Essence). To fix this, employers need to let their employees know paid time off is available to them. They should have their policies posted in highly visible places around the office and ensure it’s written so that employees can understand them, which means posting the sick day policies in various languages (Essence).

To ensure all employees can take advantage of paid sick leave, we need to support the Healthy Families Act. This legislation ensures all American employees can earn up to seven days of paid sick time per year. Employees earn this by gaining an hour of sick leave for every 30 hours they work, and these sick days can be carried over to the next calendar year if they’re not used (The Center for Law and Policy). Sick days can be used for a multitude of reasons such as caring for their own physical or mental illness, caring for an injury or medical condition, obtaining a medical diagnosis, receiving preventive care, and caring for a family member, child, spouse, or loved one (The Center for Law and Policy). Read the National Partnership for Women and Families Fact Sheet to learn more about the Healthy Families Act.

There are over 32 million workers, who can’t earn paid sick leave, and we need to change that. No one should feel forced to choose between their health, their families’ health, and their financial security when they’re feeling sick.

Key Takeaways

Approximately 7.3 million Black workers and 15 million Latinx workers can’t earn a single day of paid sick leave (National Partnership for Women and Families).
People of color make less than their white counterparts, which hinders their ability to take a day off.
83% of full-time workers receive paid sick days, while only 43% of part-time workers have paid sick leave (The Center for Law and Policy).
Only 13 states and Washington D.C. have laws that require employers to offer paid sick leave (National Conference of State Legislature).
69% of employees took less sick leaves because they couldn’t afford to lose money, while 47% were afraid they would risk losing their job if they asked for a sick day (Essence).
The Healthy Families Act is a legislation that aims to create a national paid sick leave policy.

RELATED ISSUES

9/9/2020 | Make the census count.

8/9/2020 | Understand the unemployment gap | COVID-19

7/23/2020 | Know our racist presidential history.

7/21/2020 | Honor the legacy of Rep. John Lewis.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 9/15/20 Nicole Cardoza 9/15/20

End Hollywood whitewashing.

Happy Tuesday!

With the recent release of Mulan and Concrete Cowboy, and the Oscars' new standards on diversity, I thought it might be a good time to discuss the role of whitewashing in Hollywood – and how it has perpetuated harmful stereotypes about people of color.

As many of us continue to stay home, WEAR A MASK, and scour Netflix for something new, it's a good time to invest in watching more diverse stories, celebrating the works of filmmakers of color, and analyzing how our worldview is shaped by what we watch. Jami does a great job of analyzing the many ways whitewashing persists, even in today's times.

If you're enjoying these newsletters, consider making a contribution. To support our work, you can give one-time on our website, PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe for $5/mo on our Patreon.

– Nicole

Oh and one more thing – last night the Aurora council voted unanimously to ban the use of ketamine by law enforcement until the investigation is complete 🎉

TAKE ACTION

Pick one of your favorite movies or TV shows. Do a deep dive into the cast, directors, writers, and producers and reflect on the following:

Are they predominantly white?
Are there any people of color with decision-making ability?
How did actors and staff of color feel during production? (Twitter is often an excellent place to find behind-the-scenes information.)

Ask yourself why you relate to the storylines or characters.

Do the characters look like you?
Do their experiences mirror yours?
Are you resistant to TV shows with main characters that aren’t like you?

Speak out against whitewashing when you see it. Public backlash is one of producers’ strongest motivators.

Reject the idea of whiteness as the default.

GET EDUCATED

By Jami Nakamura Lin (she/her)

In the Hollywood and media context, whitewashing usually refers to the practice of casting white actors as characters of color, though it can also refer more generally to “preferring white actors, directors, cinematographers, and so on, over equally qualified people of color, as in the Oscar nominations,” (Merriam-Webster). (Here, for ease of use, we’ll use the word actors to refer to people of all genders who perform).

Often whitewashing occurs when the film is based on the life of a real person or adapted from a book. In some cases, a white actor’s appearance is altered to fit the role, as when Jim Sturgess’s eyes were digitally altered to appear almond-shaped for his Asian character in Cloud Atlas (Hyperallergenic). While this technical ability is new, it is merely the latest step in a long history of white actors donning garish makeup and outlandish costumes to depict racist caricatures and stereotypes (Paste).

As our past newsletter on digital blackface explains, “Minstrel shows gained popularity in the 1830s in New York, where white performers with blackened faces (most used burnt cork or shoe polish) would don tattered clothing and imitate enslaved Black people. These performances characterized Black people as lazy, ignorant, superstitious, and hypersexual.” Later this tradition expanded into brownface and yellowface, with white actors performing as other races and ethnicities explicitly to dehumanize them. Many contemporary movies and TV shows still depict people of color as flat and stereotypical, as shown in a Native professor’s examination of Jane Krakowski’s Native character in Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt (CutchaRislingBaldy.com).

Whitewashing also happens when characters that were people of color in the original material are changed to be white characters in the film, as in the movie 21 (IndieWire). While this bypasses the problem of blackface, yellowface, or brownface, it leads to the same result: rendering actual people of color invisible. Such casting often results from the belief that white actors are more capable than actors of color (Teen Vogue), or that it’s simply too difficult to find actors of color to fit the roles.

In every whitewashing controversy, defenders often ignore the context in which whitewashing occurs. They often fire back responses like, “Is someone of British descent not allowed to play someone with French descent?” But this is deliberately obtuse in a media landscape when the flipside doesn’t apply: people of color are not considered for white roles and are underrepresented in general.

A study of the 100 top-grossing movies from 2013 showed the racial breakdown of cast members by race: “74.1% were White, 14.1% Black, 4.9% Hispanic, 4.4% Asian, 1.1% Middle Eastern, <1% American Indian or Alaskan Native, and 1.2% were from "other" races/ethnicities. No meaningful change has been observed in the frequency of any racial/ethnic group on screen in 600 popular films between 2007 and 2013” (University of Southern California). More broadly, whitewashing takes place alongside structural oppression. In those minstrel shows, white actors assumed Black roles while Black people were still enslaved; later, white actors assumed Asian roles while Asian people were still not allowed to enter America (Teen Vogue).

These choices happen—whitewashed casts, stereotypical characters—often because the people making the decisions behind-the-scenes are also predominantly white. Despite people of color constituting almost 40% of the population, in 2016-17, they represented only 12.6% of movie directors, 7.8% of movie writers, and 9.4% of TV show creators, according to the Hollywood Diversity Report (University of California-Los Angeles). While detractors are quick to point out tentpole examples like Black Panther, these statistics prove that such movies are the exception, not the rule.

A goal, of course, is more representation for people of color in Hollywood across all roles. But representation is not enough. As Hari Ziyad explains, “ ‘Representation matters’ cannot be the beginning and the end of the conversation. Representation matters, but only when the white gaze doesn’t” (Afropunk). Hollywood is about veneers, and a diverse cast can provide cover for endemic behind-the-scenes problems. Even directors and producers of color can only do so much when we have an entire media system that privileges white stories and white identity, when Hollywood is inherently “imbued with white supremacy and a patriarchal structure designed to proffer advantages unequally,” as Elaine Low and Angelique Jackson outline (Variety).

Most of us can’t control who gets cast in the latest blockbuster, but we can denounce the beliefs that lead to whitewashing. If we reject the idea that whiteness is the default (APA PsycNet), we also reject the idea that white actors can invisibly inhabit any role. We can support directors of color, Black filmmakers, indie studios, and other people pushing for change in media. We can question what stories feel relatable to us and why. “So long as whitewashing continues to occur, we need to be conscious of whose stories are being marginalized and whose stories are not being told in mainstream media,” sociologist and author Nancy Wang Yuen told Teen Vogue.

Whitewashing exposes which identities Hollywood sees as being worthy of the big screen, what kind of audience it desires, and whose experiences it sees as universal and whose experiences it sees as niche. As moviegoers (during non-pandemic times!), we can make a difference with our wallets, our views, and our support.

Key Takeaways

In a Hollywood context, whitewashing is the practice of casting white actors in roles that were initially designed to be people of color, while overlooking actors of color (who are underrepresented in movies and TV).
America has a long history of white actors portraying people of color in dehumanizing, caricature-driven ways (as in blackface, brownface, and yellowface).
Despite people of color constituting almost 40% of the population, they represent only 12.6% of movie directors, 7.8% of movie writers, and 9.4% of TV show creators (University of California-Los Angeles).
While representation is a step forward, it is not enough in a Hollywood that structurally privileges white identities and white stories.

7/10/2020 | Understand the role of cancel culture.

7/9/2020 | Acknowledge the harm of microaggressions.

6/15/2020 | Diversify your media consumption.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 9/14/20 Nicole Cardoza 9/14/20

Stop the use of ketamine in arrests.

Happy Monday!

We're kicking off the week with an urgent call-to-action. Today, Sydney from the Justice for Elijah McClain advocacy group shares more about the dangers of ketamine, and how we can make a difference TODAY by contacting local officials. I urge you to take part. You can read more about Elijah McClain in a previous newsletter.

Thank you all for your contributions. To support our work, you can give one-time on our website, PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe for $5/mo on our Patreon.

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Call or email to demand a temporary ban on the use of ketamine in Aurora, Colorado, is put in place until at least 30 days after Elijah McClain’s case is complete. A council meeting to discuss the ban will be held on September 14, 2020, at 7:30 p.m.
Sign and share the Justice for Elijah petition to hold the officers and paramedics accountable for his death.
If you have been injected with ketamine, or have used ketamine as an EMT or paramedic in partnership with law enforcement? Share your story in this survey.

GET EDUCATED

By Sydney Cobb (she/her)

Ketamine is commonly used as an anesthetic in hospitals and veterinary clinics. It is typically regarded as safe if the proper dosage is administered, but it can have severe and lethal side effects in certain situations. Ketamine blocks pain receptors in the brain, often leading to people either falling unconscious or entering a trancelike state (The Cut). Emergency medical workers often use ketamine in order to subdue suspects at the scene of an arrest if they appear to be “violently agitated” or uncooperative.

Paramedics and first responders often describe suspects as “violently agitated” in order to justify their unnecessary use of sedatives. Ketamine is meant to subdue someone who is actively resisting arrest, but paramedics and first responders have frequently misused it. There are many cases in which suspects have been rendered helpless, with their hands cuffed behind their backs, yet they are injected with ketamine for illegitimate reasons. In some cases, it is believed that police officers involve themselves in the decision of whether or not to administer ketamine at the scene of an arrest (The Denver Post).

For example, Joseph Baker, a former Minnesota paramedic, recently spoke out against the use of ketamine for law enforcement purposes. Baker filed a whistleblower lawsuit in which he claimed that police officers attempted to coerce him into administering ketamine during an arrest. In an interview, Baker stated that the man being arrested clearly had a mental health illness and was not resisting arrest enough to justify the use of a sedative. After refusing to comply with the officers’ wishes, Baker felt that he was practically being pushed out of his job. Throughout the lawsuit, Baker emphasized that the relationship between police officers and Emergency Medical Service (EMS) workers has allowed officers to feel comfortable using coercive tactics to encourage paramedics to administer ketamine (The Intercept).

Unfortunately, Elijah McClain’s entanglement with the Aurora Police Department is one of many arrests that ended in unwarranted sedation. Max Johnson, a diabetic Black man from Minneapolis, is yet another example of how the use of ketamine can have dangerous effects. On July 26, 2020, Johnson began having a seizure as a result of low blood sugar. Abby Wulfing, Johnson’s girlfriend, called 911 and informed the dispatcher that Johnson was seizing, prompting them to send Emergency Medical Service (EMS) workers to evaluate the situation. Wulfing says that the EMS responders seemed to believe that Johnson’s seizures were caused by illegal drugs, even after she had explained the actual cause.

After continuously questioning Max’s sobriety, they began to physically restrain him and call the police for backup. After 7 minutes of pleading with the EMS workers to administer glucagon to combat Johnson’s low blood sugar, they finally obliged. Following the glucagon, the workers injected Johnson with 500 milligrams of ketamine. Wulfing stated that there was no need to inject Johnson with ketamine because he was already in a calm, post-seizure state once the EMS workers arrived. The dosage of ketamine put Johnson in a hospital intensive care unit on a ventilator for two days. Wulfing believes that the treatment Johnson received from the EMS workers was heavily influenced by the fact that he is a Black man (Star Tribune).

Both McClain and Johnson were unnecessarily injected with ketamine and endured severe health complications as a result. A sedative was not necessary in either case, considering that both men were following police orders and remaining calm in highly stressful situations. While McClain and Johnson’s cases are entirely separate, the parallels between the two are not anomalous; they indicate a larger issue with the unwarranted use of ketamine injections.

For decades, law enforcement has labeled people of color as ‘aggressive’ and ‘uncooperative’ in order to justify their unnecessary use of force. While ketamine is not a form of physical force, it can have similar or worse effects on one’s well-being. McClain and Johnson are only two examples of how police officers and paramedics unjustifiably use sedatives that ultimately lead to severe health complications.

It is imperative that we hold police departments and EMS workers accountable for misusing ketamine as a tool of brutality on ALL people, but specifically people of color. We cannot allow officers to further perpetuate the notion that Black people are disobliging and aggressive with law enforcement.

Key Takeaways

The symbiotic relationship between police officers and paramedics can lead to officers feeling comfortable with coercing paramedics into administering ketamine, therefore putting more people at risk of experiencing the harmful side effects of the sedative.
While the use of ketamine for law enforcement purposes is not limited to people of color, it is yet another way that police are wrongly labeling them as “aggressive” and “agitated.”
The use of ketamine is usually not necessary or justified.

8/27/2020 | Help decriminalize drug possession.

8/26/2020 | Be an active bystander.

8/24/2020 | Demand justice for Jacob Blake.

8/12/2020 | Demand justice for Elijah McClain.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 9/13/20 Nicole Cardoza 9/13/20

Understand representation in vaccine trials.

Happy Sunday!

Today marks our weekly review of the racial disparities of COVID-19. It's important to remember that this virus doesn't discriminate. But our systems do. And we're trying to respond swiftly to its catastrophic impact while reckoning with our deep history of oppression and harm. Today's topic – the fight for representation in vaccine trials – is a good example of this. As you read, consider how much our mistakes from the past affect our ability to respond equitably in the present – and its implications for the future.

Thank you all for your contributions. To support our work, you can give one-time on our website, PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe for $5/mo on our Patreon.

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Support the Black Doctors COVID19 Consortium, which is building trust in their community by offering free COVID-19 testing in Philadelphia, New Jersey and New York
Respect the racial and historical context that may make people wary of a vaccine
Consider: how may your racial identity influence your perception of vaccine trials? What privilege(s) may have helped you build trust in the healthcare system?

GET EDUCATED

The U.S. is moving at an unprecedented pace to create a vaccine to respond to COVID-19. The Trump administration has dubbed these efforts “Operation Warp Speed,” with the hopes to deliver “initial doses of a safe and effective vaccine” by January 2021 — shortening the development time from years to months (NPR). More recently, Trump has hinted that a vaccine may be ready by the election (what a coincidence), which is highly unlikely. And part of that is because of a lack of representation in testing groups.

350,000 people have registered online for a coronavirus clinical trial, but only 10% are Black or Latino, according to Dr. Jim Kublin, executive director of operations for the Covid-19 Prevention Network (CNN). An additional 8% represent Indigenous communities. This isn’t nearly enough, considering over half the COVID-19 in the U.S. have been in the Black and Latino communities (CNN). And beyond that, 1.3% of reported cases are from Indigenous groups, despite only representing .7% of the population (CDC).

In fact, Dr. Anthony Fauci, director of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases, expressed his desire to see non-white communities enrolled in coronavirus vaccine trials at levels at least double their percentages in the population, which would mean 66.4% of participants need to identify as "Black or African American, Latin, American Indian, and Alaskan Native” (CNN). Scientists, doctors, and advocates are urging both pharmaceutical companies and the government to increase their efforts to enroll a diverse group of volunteers.

As we discussed in last week’s newsletter, communities of color have a deep distrust of the U.S. health care system, and for good reason.

📰 Read more about the history of medical violence against communities of color >

Also, the U.S. (and other parts of the world) have a long history of using people of color as trial subjects for vaccines. Thomas Jefferson tested what would become a successful smallpox vaccine on enslaved people before extending it to his family (Smithsonian). A British doctor serving as a plantation physician in rural Jamaica subjected enslaved people to trial tests without consent (Futurist).

As a result, people of color are historically underrepresented in clinical trials of new drugs, even when the treatment is aimed at an ailment that disproportionately affects them (ProPublica). Data from the FDA shows that Black people are the least likely to participate in drug trials – and that participation by people of color decreased between 2018 and 2019 (Outsourcing-Pharma).

“The absence of significant participation by Black patients creates not only a hole in the data, but can contribute to less effective treatments with little data on the impact on that specific population.”
Dr. Valerie Montgomery Rice, president and dean of the Morehouse School of Medicine, via Governing

One outreach effort includes reaching out to historically Black colleges and universities, encouraging students to participate in the trials, and engage medical staff and students in the process. Advocates believe this can grow trust in the community and encourage more Black people to join (NYTimes). Here’s an example of a letter from Xavier University. But this initiative, paired with efforts to increase testing across campuses, is garnering mixed feedback (Twitter).

📰 Read why it’s essential to have more representation of people of color in research >

Also, the COVID-19 Prevention Network, a group created by the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases, created an advertising campaign urging Black and Latino people to get involved. The ads center the voices of essential workers, grandparents, food industry workers, and other groups within communities of color that have been disproportionately impacted by COVID-19 (NBC News).

📰 Read more about the impact of COVID-19 on essential workers, the elderly, and workers in the food industry.

And leaders from the communities are doing their part to build trust. A group of faith-based leaders has joined together to enhance trust and engagement with people of color (Newswise). And the Navajo Nation has announced its participation in a Pfizer-BioNTech COVID-19 vaccine trial on a patient-volunteer basis (Indian Country Today).

“I would encourage people, but I know everybody won’t. It’s like ingrained in the mindset of Black people when you consider the syphilis injections. Black folks don’t want to be guinea pigs and we have been. Even in light of that, if the data is transparent, if the information makes sense, if the research is credible, then I think we can overcome that particular fear.”
Rev. Kenneth L. Samuel, senior pastor of Victory for the World Church in Stone Mountain, via Governing

Regardless of the accelerated timeline for finding a vaccine, there’s “no shortcut” to authentically engaging communities of color for trials, emphasizes Dr. Dominic Mack of Morehouse School of Medicine in Atlanta (NPR). It will take a long time to repair a history of discrimination and harm, but that work has to start now.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 9/12/20 Nicole Cardoza 9/12/20

Study Hall! Youth activism, Prop 22, and being multiracial.

Welcome to our weekly Study Hall. Each week I answer questions and share insights from each of you in our community. Many of these questions from this week are actually newsletters en queue, but I added a couple I felt I could address in the short space here.

If you'd prefer to receive just one email a week, this is the email you'd receive. You can change your email preferences by updating your profile information here.

As always, your support is greatly appreciated. You can give one-time on our website, PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe for $5/mo on our Patreon.

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

1. Reflect on the questions prompted by our community.

2. Ask yourself two questions about one of the topics we discussed this week. Discuss these questions with a friend or colleague.

GET EDUCATED

In review: The newsletters we published this week.

9/11/2020 | Protect Black women.

9/10/2020 | Fight for fair labor.

9/9/2020 | Make the census count.

9/8/2020 | Reject the model minority myth.

9/7/2020 | Learn about critical race theory.

9/6/2020 | Protect the aging population from COVID-19.

RESOURCE
Black women services in Atlanta, GA
From Protect Black women on Friday, September 11.

From reader Maria:

This article is a critical reminder of the ways in which Black women experience intersecting violence from all corners of society. I wanted to share a resource that is working to serve Black women survivors of domestic violence and suicidality in Atlanta, GA. They provide 100% free psychological services and work to address transportation and other barriers to provide Black women with much-needed support, including practical support (clothing, feminine products). The program has been developing a culturally adapted intervention for Black women survivors of DV for ~20 years now. This program also trains mental health and medical professionals to be more culturally competent. Resources like these are too few and far between, but this is a program that is really doing good work. The website is below:

https://theniaproject.wordpress.com/

Q+A
You mentioned that many people don't know about our history because it's not taught often in school. What can we do to ensure our education system is educating our kids about history more equitably?
From Reject the model minority myth on Tuesday, September 8.

This is worth a whole newsletter – which I'm planning on publishing next week! Because our education system is a critical component of how we view the world, particularly when it comes to racial equity.

I'll dive into it further in that piece, but it starts with active participation. Parents have a particular influence on the curriculum brought into classrooms. Review your child's syllabus and consider how many diverse stories and perspectives are included. Flip through their textbooks and note how their lessons on history, geography, etc. may prioritize certain places and parts of our timeline.

Also, consider the representation of your school district – not just in its teachers (which is critically important) but in the administrators, district leads, and educational boards. There's still state and federal mandates, but as you'll read next week, public participation can greatly influence it, for better or worse.

INSIGHT
Prop 22 protects more than just low-wage workers that are employed by tech companies.
From Fight for fair labor on Thursday, September 10

From reader Julia:

It’s good to see some love towards Prop 22! More than gig workers are affected by the current policy.

Right now businesses are allowed to try workers as contractors before they commit to them as employees. Depending on the cost of the contractor, businesses can be tempted to keep workers (performing essential functions to the business) as contractors indefinitely.

This subjects so-called “freelance” workers to a sometimes full time schedule with one single business, without the health benefits, stock benefits, retirement benefits, bonus benefits, or pay that their employee peers receive.

Q+A
I'm under the age of 18 so I can't take the census, or get a census job. How else can I support?

Actually, anyone age 15 years or older can do the census on behalf of their household! Be sure to check with the people you live with to see if someone else has already completed it on your behalf. You do have to be 18 to get a census job.

After you've sorted this out, spread the word! Maybe you have friends that are also under the age of 18 who thought the same thing you did. And maybe you can rally your friends on social media to take action!

I can imagine it's especially for anyone too young or disenfranchised from voting to watch what's unfolding in the U.S. right now and not be able to take civic action. It might sound simple and dismissive, but I mean this earnestly – now is the most important time to use whatever power you have to share your voice. It might not feel like you're making a difference. But luckily, we all don't have to change the world alone. If we can each change one heart and mind, only half of us have to be successful for all of us to thrive. Start where you are and do what you can. You've got this.

Q+A
How does the model minority myth impact individuals with mixed identities? As someone who's both Asian and Black, for example, have double the expectations for success?
From Reject the model minority myth on Tuesday, September 9.

I am not both Black and Asian, so I can't speak to this from personal experience. I can imagine it's a unique experience for each person, and influenced by their perceptions of how their identities are perceived in the world around them.

From what I learned in Jami's newsletter, model minority myth, like many racial biases, isn't just internalized. It's something that individuals experience from the world around them. So it's not just "how do I relate to this concept," but "how does the world view me in this light, and what does that mean for my safety and well-being?"

Regardless of how it does, I think we should all be sensitive to how it should. And, know that we can listen and learn to understand, instead of intentionally or unintentionally promoting the same myth.

Clarifications

9/10/2020 | Fight for fair labor.
I meant to write that voting No to Prop 22 protects low-wage workers from exploitation. Not "Yes to Prop 22". The campaign for "Yes to Prop 22" is a well-funded marketing campaign from tech companies, including Uber. I've made that clarification in our archives.

RELATED ISSUES

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 9/11/20 Nicole Cardoza 9/11/20

Protect Black women.

Wow, it has been a rough time. Between the shooting of Jacob Blake, the release of footage of the murder of Daniel Prude, the murder of Naytasia Williams in Indianapolis (follow #JusticeForTaysia on Twitter), and the death of real-life Black superhero Chadwick Boseman, I am deeply tired. Even over the few days it took to write this, I read more reports of Black women dying from both interpersonal and state violence. Even if I have battle fatigue, I know I will replenish my cup and keep on fighting. I encourage you to take care of yourself and fight for Black women, too.

– Malana

ps – thank you all for your contributions. To support our work, you can give one-time on our website, PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe for $5/mo on our Patreon.

TAKE ACTION

Believe Black women when they say they have been harmed.
Use the term “lynching” with respect to its historical context of state-sponsored racial and sexual terror, not as a metaphor for public ridicule.
Contact your U.S. Senators to push the Emmett Till Anti-lynching Act forward.
Support organizations like Survived and Punished, Black Women’s Blueprint, and SisterSong.

GET EDUCATED

By Malana Krongelb

Note: Because this article discusses lynching as well as violence against Black women, please be aware that the content may be triggering, and links may contain disturbing images. Read with care.

On July 12, rapper Tory Lanez shot fellow rapper Megan Thee Stallion in the foot when she was exiting a vehicle (Billboard). Many people did not believe Megan was actually shot, leading her to post a picture of her gunshot wound on social media. Many people made jokes at Megan’s expense or even argued in favor of Tory, saying he experiences greater racial oppression and is being “lynched” in the court of public opinion. She didn’t name Lanez as her assailant until over a month later, choosing to protect him because of a fear they would both be attacked by police. With that in mind, I want to talk about a subject that gets glossed over way too frequently: lynching's effect on Black women.

Black women have always been at the forefront of fighting lynching, with women like Ida B. Wells (YouTube) and Mamie Till Mobley (Emmett Till’s mother) leading the charge (PBS). Despite the deep personal pain it caused, Till Mobley's insistence on an open casket so that “the world [could] see what they did to my baby” galvanized the Civil Rights Movement. While these women do not nearly get the praise they deserve, even less talked about are the female victims of lynching (The Conversation).

Take, for example, Laura Nelson, a Black Oklahoman gang-raped and lynched alongside her son (STMU History Media). A postcard of her hanging body was a widely distributed souvenir and served as the only surviving photo of a Black woman lynching victim. Whether in the form of lynching mementos or jokes at Megan Thee Stallion’s expense, the grotesque enjoyment people derive from Black women’s pain is nothing new. It is misogynoir, or the specific hatred of Black women where both gender and race play a critical role (Moyazb).

Even though lynching is a white supremacist act, Black women are not safe from its effects even when dealing with other Black people. The assumption that lynching only affects men has been weaponized against Black women who speak out against sexual violence. Clarence Thomas called the Anita Hill hearings a "high tech lynching (Washington Post)" R. Kelly called #MuteRKelly a lynching too (The Undefeated, RollingStone). By invoking lynching—and white women’s false claims of rape that often accompanied them—these predatory Black men distort the history of lynching to maintain patriarchal control over Black women. When less than 1 in 15 Black female victims of rape report (often citing wanting to protect Black men from police as a motivating factor in remaining silent), the misuse of the term lynching has real consequences (Ujima Community).

As Black feminist scholar Hazel Carby has stated, "The institutionalized rape of black women has never been as powerful a symbol of black oppression as the spectacle of lynching. Rape has always involved patriarchal notions of women, outwardly inviting a sexual attack” (See “Rape and the Inner Lives of Black Women”).

A sexually confident Megan Thee Stallion is viewed as being “too fast” and “too loose,” allegedly inciting the violence perpetrated against her. This dynamic persists even after death: George Floyd's name is synonymous with the Black Lives Matter protests. In contrast, sexual assault and murder victim Toyin Salau's name has been lifted up almost exclusively by other Black women. Intersectionality, a topic we discussed in a previous newsletter, is important to remember as we watch these discrepancies unfold. Learn more about it in Kimberle Crenshaw’s TED Talk.

In trying to write about the recent death of Naytasia Williams, a Black and Asian woman, rapper, and exotic dancer murdered at the end of August struggled to even find her last name. Her murder has all the hallmarks of lynching’s legacy: a hypersexualized Black woman, murdered in cold blood by a security guard, whose pain was sickly enjoyed by a group of police refused to call paramedics as she died. While we cannot bring her back, we can support her family (GoFundMe), fight against the erasure of her life and story, and fight for Black women now and always.

key takeaways

Lynching isn’t a term that specifically applies to men. Black women have been and continue to be victims of racialized violence
Misogynoir is the term to describe the unique discrimination that Black women experience.
The sexual and physical violence against Black women has largely been ignored.
Both white women and Black men have weaponized lynching against Black women survivors.

7/31/2020 | Keep fighting for Breonna Taylor.

7/17/2020 | Analyze representation in media.

7/16/2020 | Respect AAVE.

7/15/2020 | End racial bias in school discipline.

7/14/2020 | Embrace your race privilege.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 9/10/20 Nicole Cardoza 9/10/20

Fight for fair labor.

Happy Thursday! And welcome to Issue No. 100 of the Anti-Racism Daily. There's a lot of new faces here. In case you missed it, I publish one newsletter each day on ways to dismantle systemic oppression, written by me or lovingly curated from diverse voices.

This newsletter started as a work in protest – a consistent commitment to change. To honor it, we've created a sweatshirt, t-shirt, and coffee mug embroidered with our tagline. All proceeds will be donated to mutual aid funds supporting communities of color during these stressful times. Get yours here >

As for today's newsletter, I wrote this because I feel a labor strike is coming. And when it's time for us to take action, I want us to remember why it's so important for us to advocate for fair labor rights – starting with the vulnerability of low-wage workers. Stay tuned.

And thank you all for your contributions. To support our work, you can give one-time on our website, PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe for $5/mo on our Patreon.

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Add an extra tip wherever possible. Many food/delivery companies are inflating fees that don’t reach the worker that’s helping you. Double-check to ensure you’re directly supporting the workers supporting you.
Commit to buying from only small businesses one day a week. Work to increase that frequency by the end of the year.
Where possible, stop supporting major businesses that exploit low wage workers.
Research: What is your city/state doing to protect low-wage workers?

GET EDUCATED

By Nicole Cardoza

Before the pandemic, employment growth looked promising at first glance. The U.S. experienced its longest job expansion period in history, growing consecutively since The Great Recession of 2009 (PBS). But a closer look at the numbers showed that a vast percentage of job growth stems from low wage work, defined as someone who earns less than two-thirds of the median hourly wage for full-time workers (USCS). In 2019, 44% of American workers – 53 million people – were low-wage workers, earning $10.22/hr on average, which amounts to just $17,950 a year (Brookings).

📰 Read more about the unemployment gap in our August 9 newsletter >

Low-wage work is precarious. It often doesn’t come with job security and benefits, and the pay structure can be inequitable (keep reading for thoughts on tipping). And job development opportunities are slim; low-wage workers are the most likely to remain stuck in their wage bracket when they switch occupations (Brookings). 39% of employed people in households making less than $40,000 were furloughed or lost their job in March, as opposed to just 13% of households making over $100,000 (Politico).

And at least half of the low-wage workers in America are people of color, which is likely underreported. 63% of Latino or Hispanic workers and 54% of Black workers earn low wages, compared to 36% of white workers and 40% of Asian American workers. And Black and Latino or Hispanic workers earn less than white workers with similar educational levels and experience (Brookings).

Which is why we have to read the latest unemployment numbers with a grain (or spoonful) of salt. Although the newest reports indicate that hourly earnings rose 4.7% from a year ago, that's actually because so many low-wage workers have left the industry, skewing the numbers (Salon). A study by researchers at the University of Chicago's Becker Friedman Institute in July found that just 9% of highest earners were laid off amid the business closings while the brunt of job losses fell on the lowest-earning workers. And, researchers believe that roughly half of low-wage workers that have lost their jobs are not classified as unemployed because they are not actively searching for a new job.

The last insight is most horrifying, because it indicates how uncertain future wage jobs are right now. As schools transition online, companies adopt remote work long-term, the travel industry contracts and retailers reconsider commercial leases, many low-wage jobs in maintaining these spaces are being cut. Scott Rechler, the chief executive of RXR Realty, which owns over 20 million square feet of office space in New York City, estimates that “every office worker sustains five service jobs, from the shoeshine booth to the coffee shop.” Yet only about 12 percent of his tenants are in the office (NYTimes).

📰 Many wage workers are also considered essential workers during this time, which means people that can work are exposing themselves to contracting the disease. Learn more about how you can support essential workers in our June 21 newsletter >

Workers that survived off of tips are also struggling because of the pandemic. Federal law, along with many states, requires employers to pay the difference between what the workers earn after tips and the regular minimum wage. But many employers are falling short by intentionally stiffing workers for most or all of their pay (NYTimes). Most cities and states rely on workers to file complaints before investigating businesses, rather than inspecting workplaces. Advocates believe that inspectors are “going easy” on smaller businesses, empathizing with the economic difficulties of this recession. And, workers are more fearful of retaliation now than ever before as other job prospects dwindle. Together, this creates a structural lack of accountability, which can permanently damage the wage industry.

📰 The history of tipping is rooted in slavery. Learn more in our August 16 newsletter >

Citizens across the country are already advocating for change. Workers in Philadelphia are unionizing, creating systems of accountability for local institutions, and representing their communities in district councils (Philadelphia Inquirer). The community in Lansing, MI has organized to protect tenants that are at risk of being evicted and pressuring local leaders to increase the minimum wage and add sick pay, an initiative that’s previously been adopted but watered down by the state government (Lansing State Journal).

“There’s been an awakening to the fact that these issues can be addressed by organizing and legislation. People are seeing the power of direct action to effect change.”
Valerie Braman, a labor educator at Pennsylvania State University, for Philadelphia Inquirer.

That’s why it’s important to watch the story unfold about Proposition 22, an initiative on the ballot in California this November. It aims to prevent companies who employ gig workers, like rideshare drivers, to reclassify them as employees, which would give them benefits like minimum wage, overtime, and unemployment insurance (CBS Los Angeles). The campaign Yes on Proposition 22 received $181.4 million from five rideshare and app-based companies—Lyft, Uber, DoorDash, InstaCart, and Postmates – to ensure it passes (Ballotpedia).

If passed, the bill may make it harder for gig workers that aren’t looking for job security or structure to take jobs like these. But, it will also move to protect those that rely on these jobs with benefits like a minimum guaranteed wage, overtime, unemployment, and anti-discrimination protections, while holding multi-million dollar businesses accountable for wage exploitation.

And as major companies increasingly gain market dominance, we may see more low-wage workers exploited for power. Corporations like Amazon and Wal-Mart are thriving due to the pandemic, and their margins are also possible because, in part, of their high propensity for low-wage workers. With little oversight from the federal government, there’s nothing to prevent this hiring practice to continue – but us. We must advocate for the wellbeing of low-wage workers at the polls and do our part to invest in businesses that center their needs.

key takeaways

Low-wage workers are a significant part of the total employed population of the U.S.
Low-wage workers are disproportionately losing their jobs due to COVID-19
These workers are also disproportionately women and people of color, who are systemically discriminated against in the workforce and have fewer opportunities to grow from their wage bracket than others, regardless of economic or educational background
Low-wage workers are more vulnerable now than ever because of limited job opportunities and large, market-dominating companies thriving during the pandemic

RELATED ISSUES

8/16/2020 | Think before eating out.

8/9/2020 | Understand the unemployment gap | COVID-19

6/21/2020 | Protect essential workers: Racial Disparities of COVID-19

6/11/2020 | Support black-owned businesses.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 9/9/20 Nicole Cardoza 9/9/20

Make the census count.

It's Wednesday and there's only 22 days left to complete the U.S. Census! You may have already completed this back in April, and that's a good thing – considering how messy the current census counting situation is right now. In case you missed the news, Renée is giving us the overview in today's newsletter. Learn why the extension is necessary for ensuring fair representation of everyone – especially those most marginalized.

And do your part to rally your friends, family and colleagues to take the census! The next best time to complete the census is now.

Thank you all for your contributions. To support our work, you can give one-time on our website, PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe for $5/mo on our Patreon.

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Complete the census! You can do it online, on the phone or via mail: 2020census.gov
Create time and space at your (IRL or virtual) office for your team to complete the census.
View where your state ranks on the 2020 Census Response Rates. Then, research specific ways you can help your state / city count – whether by joining text / phone banking initiatives, or spreading the word in your neighborhood.

GET EDUCATED

By Renée Cherez

Beginning in 1790, the United States Census has been part of the country’s constitutional law. Every ten years, every person in America is counted for two main reasons: distributing funds and properly revealing representation. Census findings not only affect the funds and resources allocated to communities, but it also determines the number of seats each state in Congress holds as well as the drawing of congressional and state legislative districts (Census.gov).

On August 3rd, the Census Bureau announced that field data collection would end on September 30th, a full month before the Trump administration’s extended October 31st deadline. (CNN) In an internal document released last week by the Democratic-led House Oversight Committee, Census Bureau officials warned the Trump administration that compressing the Census data timeline would “eliminate activities that will reduce accuracy” (CNN).

Also mentioned in the Powerpoint-styled report is any modifications made to the review process would eliminate or reduce steps designed to ensure the exactness of data before it is made public (Census.gov). With a shortened timeline, there won’t be time to review data that may be skewed in a practical matter before presenting it to the president on December 31st.

A U.S. judge was able to temporarily halt this movement last Saturday, an issue that will remain in effect until Sept. 17 when she will hold a hearing in a lawsuit filed by the municipalities and advocacy groups (Reuters). This move buys the census some “precious and indispensable time” to gather more data (NPR). And this adjustment is critical; a miscount threatens the accuracy of the numbers used for reapportioning seats in Congress and the annual distribution of $1.5 trillion for federal funding of public services (NPR).

The Trump administration’s decision to expedite the census timeline during an election year and pandemic cannot be overlooked. Because the census determines the allocation of seats in Congress, there is undoubtedly a push to receive incomplete data to ensure seats are held by those who don’t have marginalized communities’ best interests over the next decade (New York Mag).

It’s also not the first time the Trump administration has tried to manage the census in a way that sways to their political agenda. In 2019, Commerce Secretary Wilbur Ross, who oversees the Census Bureau, insisted on a citizenship question added to this year’s census (NPR). With Trump’s xenophobic history towards immigrants on full display over the last five years, the Supreme Court blocked the citizenship question from the 2020 census (CNN).

A miscount or no count at all is disastrous for not only Black and Brown communities but also immigrant communities and those experiencing homelessness. Historically, Black and immigrant communities have been undercounted or not counted at all in the census. In 1940, the Census Bureau missed 1 in 12 Black residents (The Guardian). In the 2010 census, 2.1% of African Americans were not counted, including 6% of African American children (Forbes).

Also undercounted: 1.5% of Hispanics and 5% of Indigenous people living on reservations while the white-non Latino population was overcounted by almost 1% (CBS). A 2019 report by the Urban Institute estimates that between 1.1 million and 1.7 million Black residents will be missed in 2020’s census (Urban Institute). However, because of the ongoing pandemic and upending to daily life because of it, years of mistrust of the federal government, the numbers could be far higher.

Racial inequality in national statistics is not new. It has cost the Black community millions of dollars that could have been used for education, mental health services, clinics, businesses, and public programs like Medicaid. An example of this is the disproportionate incarceration rate of Black men.

Black men are incarcerated five times higher than white people, and when the census traces, it documents that Black men are part of the prison population. This inflates the population count and divests funds from Black communities, where incarcerated Black men will eventually return (Forbes). Like the Asian Americans Advancing Justice, who successfully sued the administration over its citizenship question, advocacy groups have voiced their concerns about the new census deadline:

"This new deadline allows Trump to cheat hard-to-count communities of color out of the resources needed for everything from health care and education to housing and transportation for the next 10 years" (CNN).

Like door-knocking, field operations are critical in undercounted communities and counting populations that are most vulnerable like the unhoused. Black people in America only make up 13% of the population, yet, 42% of the unhoused population is Black. The numbers are even higher among Black people experiencing homelessness with children at 52% (ABCNews).

With the deadline fast approaching, Census field agents are now pushing to get into the rural communities that don’t have internet or telephones access. Virtual phone banks organized by advocacy groups are scheduled for September 9th in Chicago, where only 40% of households have completed the census (ABC7). On the opposite end, fieldwork will end in San Diego, a city with a large Hispanic population, which will end on September 18th, twelve days earlier than the official deadline (KTLA).

Almost 230 years later, to the first enumeration, the 2020 Census may be the most critical of our generation as we face down a public health crisis, racial uprisings, an economic crisis, and a federal government steeped in fascism. We must do everything in our power to ensure BIPOC people are counted in this census. If we don’t, these communities stand to lose more than they already have over the last six months of this pandemic and four years of this administration.

key takeaways

The last day to complete the U.S. Census is September 30th.
Black communities are historically undercounted in the Census, leading to millions of dollars lost for valuable resources.
In the 2010 Census, 1.5 million Black and Hispanic people went uncounted.

7/21/2020 | Honor the legacy of Rep. John Lewis.

7/20/2020 | Protect your community from the harm of gentrification.

7/8/2020 | Investigate school district funding disparities.

7/6/2020 | Abolish qualified immunity.

7/5/2020 | Support the Navajo Nation through COVID-19.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 9/8/20 Nicole Cardoza 9/8/20

Reject the model minority myth.

Happy Tuesday, everyone! In today's Anti-Racism Daily, Jami unpacks the "model minority myth" and its lasting impact on the racism and discrimination marginalized groups experience.

And remember, this is a work in protest. Especially when everything feels overwhelming and hopeless. Each action we take brings us one step further to the equitable future we all deserve. Keep going ✊🏾.

Thank you all for your contributions. To support our work, you can give one-time on our website, PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe for $5/mo on our Patreon.

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Unpack who you consider “Asian American.” If you think things like “there are so many Asian Americans at this college,” what kinds of Asian Americans are you actually talking about?
Take time to learn more about the history of Asian Americans in your community, particularly refugees and the recently immigrated.
Resist media rhetoric that portrays recent protests as destructive and violent, instead of as actions in response to the destructive, violent anti-Black practices in our policing and government.

GET EDUCATED

By Jami Nakamura Lin

After our recent article on affirmative action (Anti-Racism Daily), several readers were curious about the myth of the model minority. As an Asian American, this myth has followed me all my life; I was exposed to its pervasive narrative long before I ever heard the term. As a child, I heard flippant “of course you did well on this test— you’re Asian!” comments from friends at school, and dismissive comments about other people of color from elderly relatives at home, who believed that since we had made it, everyone else should have, too.

But these types of remarks reflect just the surface of the myth. The core of the model minority myth is the idea that Asian Americans were “able to rise to ‘honorary white’ status through assimilation, hard work and intelligence… [the myth is used] to put down and dismiss other communities of color; especially Black folks and Black political resistance,” explains the Asian Pacific American Labor Alliance (APALA). The term “model minority” was coined by white journalist William Pettersen in a 1966 article called “Success Story, Japanese-American Style” (New York Times Magazine). He praised Japanese Americans for their triumph over adversity while explicitly comparing them with what he called the “problem minorities,” by which he meant first and foremost Black Americans.

Pettersen’s article did not appear out of a vacuum, but amidst major events that were shaping the face of America. In 1965 Congress passed the Immigration and Nationality Act, which replaced a restrictive national-origins quota with one that prioritized family members and the highly educated (House of Representatives Archive). This act replaced the immigration laws of 1917 and 1924, which had banned virtually all immigration from Asia (Densho). An unintended outcome of the 1965 law was a dramatic increase in immigration from non-European countries—especially Asian ones (History). (I can see how these laws have shaped my own family’s journey: my Japanese and Okinawan great-grandparents moved to America during the decades prior to the laws’ implementation, while my Taiwanese father and his family came in 1971, six years after the passage of the Immigration and Nationality Act).

Secondly, the model minority myth appeared during the 1960s civil rights movement. “Numerous politicians and academics and the mainstream media contrasted Chinese with African Americans,” writes historian Ellen D. Wu (LA Times). “They found it expedient to invoke Chinese “culture” to counter the demands of civil rights and black power activists for substantive change.” These people believed that East Asians’ success meant that it should be possible for Black Americans to achieve success without dismantling the system. There’s no racism, the myth tries to sweetly convince: anyone can succeed in America, as long as you’re compliant and hard-working. It elides the differences in the experiences in communities of color, and particularly the trauma, disenfranchisement, and dehumanization that Black people have faced in this country since 1619 when the first slave ship arrived (The 1619 Project).

Another problematic outcome of the myth is that it also presents Asian America as a homogenous monolith, ignoring the wide diversity within. In 2017, the poverty rate among Japanese Americans (the group Pettersen originally called the “model minority”) was 3.8%, the lowest of all Asian ethnicities, while the rate among Burmese Americans was 28.4% (AAPI Data). But the model minority myth centers East Asians and the wealthiest Asian Americans, while rendering the rest—North, West, South, and Southeast Asians, struggling Asian Americans—invisible. We ignore the communities and the cultures that were colonized and that were most affected by our interference in the Vietnam War and the Secret War (LA Times).

The myth can be hard to denounce, partially because some Asian Americans (particularly wealthy East Asians, who benefit the most) wholeheartedly buy into it. And why not? The myth presents us as being responsible for our own success, as being people who fought against adversity and won. This can ring true to us, for as descendants of recent immigrants (or immigrants ourselves), we often do remember the struggle and discrimination we’ve faced. But we cannot allow ourselves to have tunnel vision at our own experience while ignoring the differences between our own experiences and those of Black Americans. The myth can be seductive, making us feel like we earned everything, deserve everything, which leads to us aligning ourselves with whiteness instead of being in solidarity with other people of color. Today, this is most visible in wealthy East Asians’ lawsuits against affirmative action, steps that align them with whiteness instead of in solidarity with other people of color (as Allen Chang outlines in his thorough article at Vox).

While most people today don’t throw around the terms “model minority” or “problem minority,” the stereotypes behind the myth are still pervasive today, seeping into our culture in insidious ways. When the media decries the recent “violent protests,” besides ignoring the role of the police as instigators (NY Times), they further the narrative that if Black people just protested in the right way, they would achieve their goals. History has proven otherwise. We cannot believe this rhetoric. We cannot use the supposed success of Asian Americans to lay blame at the feet of Black Americans instead of at the towering, crushing heel of systemic racism.

key takeaways

Critical race theory is a school of thought that analyzes how racism persists in social and political systems
The Trump administration aims to remove diversity trainings that use critical race theory, which impacts the federal government and conversations on race as a whole
Trump has fueled racism and divisiveness to maintain and gain power.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 9/7/20 Nicole Cardoza 9/7/20

Learn about critical race theory.

"Our social world, with its rules, practices, and assignments of prestige and power, is not fixed; rather, we construct with it words, stories and silence. But we need not acquiesce in arrangements that are unfair and one-sided. By writing and speaking against them, we may hope to contribute to a better, fairer world.”
– Critical Race Theory: The Cutting Edge (Third Edition)

Happy Monday. After a series of incendiary tweets, many people are asking about what critical race theory is, and how far the president will go to polarize the nation on the issue of race. Today's newsletter dives into the impact of these recent events and what we can do to keep the conversation moving forward.

As always, your support is greatly appreciated. These contributions are our only source of funding and help us pay writers and develop new resources. You can give one-time on our website, PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe for $5/mo on our Patreon.

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Reflect on the following questions, common to critical race theory work:

What is the significance of race in contemporary American society?
Where, in what ways, and to what ends does race appear in dominant American culture and shape the ways we interact with one another?
What types of texts and other cultural artifacts reflect dominant culture’s perceptions of race?
How can scholars convey that racism is a concern that affects all members of society?
How does racism continue to function as a persistent force in American society?
How can we combat racism to ensure that all members of American society experience equal representation and access to fundamental rights?
How can we accurately reflect the experiences of victims of racism?

Source: Purdue, which also has a comprehensive overview of critical race theory.

Research both presidential candidates’ agendas for racial equity. Choose one proposed policy by each candidate, and use the same questions for more critical inquiry.

GET EDUCATED

By Nicole Cardoza

Last Friday, Trump worked to cancel anti-racism trainings held by government agencies, a move that was widely shared on his social media. In a memo, the director of the Office of Management and Budget tells the agencies to “begin to identify all contracts or other agency spending related to any training on ‘critical race theory,’ ‘white privilege,’ or any other training or propaganda effort that teaches or suggests either (1) that the United States is an inherently racist or evil country or (2) that any race or ethnicity is inherently racist or evil” (NYTimes). This action was sparked after a conservative activist was featured on Fox News segment that argued that these diversity trainings are “racist,” and “systematically attack the unifying ideals of this country” (CNN).

But these accusations aren’t accurate. Critical race theory is a school of thought designed to help identify and understand how racism plays a part in our society. It doesn’t say that everyone is racist, but that racism is a part of everyday life for people of color and unpacks how racial bias influences our conscious and unconscious responses. Although it began as an academic theory, critical race theory is widely taught and studied cross disciplines, including education, sociology, and law.

Some of the key themes within critical race theory include topics like institutional racism, microaggressions, reparations, determinism, intersectionality, and white privilege (JSTOR). It encourages criticism of liberal anti-racism ideas, like colorblindness and affirmative action (Harvard). And it emphasizes that creating spaces for communities of color to share their stories is necessary for growth. Critical race theory has influenced the approach I’ve taken with this very newsletter. Explore our archives to find many of these topics covered in previous newsletters. And if you’re interested, you can find a more comprehensive overview of critical race theory via PDF here.

More variations of critical race theory have evolved to focus on specific ethnic/racial groups, or intersectionalities within ethnic/racial groups, including critical race feminism (CRF), Latino critical race studies (LatCrit),[50] Asian American critical race studies (AsianCrit), South Asian American critical race studies (DesiCrit), American Indian critical race studies (TribCrit), and disability critical race studies (DisCrit).

Before we discuss the broader implications of this change, we need to recognize its immediate impact. The federal government is the largest employer in the nation, employing nearly 9.1 million workers, or 6% of the total employment in the United States (The Hill). If these trainings do cease, they could negatively impact the workplace culture and the diversity of its staff.

Also, studies prove that federal contracts are disproportionately awarded to white-owned businesses, which has increased over the past twenty years (Washington Post). Not only will removing these trainings prevent leaders internally from being equipped to address these disparities, it eschews responsibility from fair and equitable practices moving forward.

And this has broader implications for our nation’s conversation on race. In some ways, this comment from Trump is nothing new; Trump’s social and political career has been shaped by his perception of race throughout the past decades (NYTimes). And in the past few months alone, he’s incited violence, denounced the Black Lives Matter movement, dismissed police brutality, and fueled anti-Asian racism during COVID-19, for starters (Vox).

But this action doesn’t just denounce marginalized communities and acts of injustice, but the concept of racism itself. Instead of delegitimizing movements towards racial equity, it’s as if he aims to eliminate the idea altogether. Regardless, it detracts from the racial reckoning that our country is fighting for, and is likely to incite more contention in a time where revolution is essential now more than ever.

Denouncing a theory doesn’t change the facts. It only emphasizes them. Racism is enough of an issue in the U.S. to drive political leaders to infer that it isn’t, which is why we need to continue to stay in inquiry with this work.

It feels a bit counterintuitive to write this; if you’re reading this newsletter, you’re clearly still part of the conversation. But nevertheless, we need to stay in dialogue – not about racism itself, but the actions we’ll take to transform this nation and provide justice for all. Because the how is the only part of the conversation that will move us forward. And we deserve to have clear and constructive steps outlined by both candidates as we head to the polls this November.

key takeaways

Critical race theory is a school of thought that analyzes how racism persists in social and political systems
The Trump administration aims to remove diversity trainings that use critical race theory, which impacts the federal government and conversations on race as a whole
Trump has fueled racism and divisiveness to maintain and gain power.

RELATED ISSUES

6/29/2020 | Don't vote for Trump.

7/23/2020 | Know our racist presidential history.

7/21/2020 | Honor the legacy of Rep. John Lewis.

7/6/2020 | Abolish qualified immunity.

6/30/2020 | Boycott as a form of protest.

6/26/2020 | Face the bias in facial recognition software.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 9/6/20 Nicole Cardoza 9/6/20

Protect the aging population from COVID-19.

Today’s Anti-Racism Daily is inspired by my grandmother, who, unlike me, has been relatively even-keeled with the events of the past few months. It’s not because she, as an African American woman, feels impassive to recent events. She’s just been here before; rallying during the Civil Rights movement, watched her family survive sickness and disease. For her, fighting for justice and overcoming the odds is a daily practice. I think about the challenges she could face as COVID-19 persists, and researched the disproportionate impact of this pandemic on aging communities of color as part of our weekly series. I’d love to know your thoughts.

As always, your support is greatly appreciated. These contributions are our only source of funding and help us pay writers and develop new resources. You can give one-time on our website, PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe for $5/mo on our Patreon.

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Find a local program in your community that's supporting the aging population with groceries, funds and companionship. Here's a list for starters.

Sign up to join the Mon Ami Phone Bank and help seniors isolated by COVID-19.

GET EDUCATED

By Nicole Cardoza

Our country is working to maintain a sense of normalcy as COVID-19 persists. But as we do, we can’t forget about the racial disparities of its impact, especially how these disparities intersect with other marginalized groups. One that is particularly vulnerable is the aging population.

A KHN analysis of data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention found that African Americans ages 65 to 74 are 5x more likely to die from COVID-19 than white people. In the 75-to-84 group, the death rate for Black people was 3.5x greater. Among those 85 and older, Black people died twice as often. In all three age groups, death rates for Hispanics were higher than for whites but lower than for Black people (KHN).

“People are talking about the race disparity in COVID deaths, they're talking about the age disparity, but they're not talking about how race and age disparities interact: They're not talking about older black adults.”

Robert Joseph Taylor, director of the Program for Research on Black Americans at the University of Michigan's Institute for Social Research, for KHN.

Some of the health outcomes for older people of color can be attributed to a lifetime of stress related to racism. People of color have historically endured more stress and anxiety throughout their lives than their white counterparts while navigating racism and discrimination. As a result, we accumulate this tension in our bodies, leading to a wide variety of adverse health implications. This concept is called “weathering,” coined by Arline Geronimus, and can occur from a wide range of stressors, from experiencing police brutality to microaggressions, and everything in between (NPR).

In the scientific community, weathering is identified as “allostatic load,” which measures the substances the body releases after periods of stress. When our bodies are called into “fight or flight” mode, our stress-related neurotransmitters, called catecholamines, quickly release corticotropin, which in turn triggers the release of cortisol, giving our body a jolt of adrenaline to respond to the stressor. Although it can be useful in short situations, the lives of people of color are filled with stress-inducing events. Over time, this allostatic load accumulates. A study that compared the average allostatic loads for Black people and white people found that the mean score for Blacks was roughly comparable to that of Whites who were a full ten years older, demonstrating that people of color age more rapidly than their white peers (Science Direct).

After a lifetime of wear and tear from chronic stress and anxiety, it’s no wonder that aging communities of color are more likely to have pre-existing medical conditions that make them more susceptible to contracting the disease (CDC). Communities of color, particularly Black people, are more likely to have complications like diabetes, chronic kidney disease, obesity, heart failure and pulmonary hypertension (KHN).

But aging communities of color are also more likely to distrust medical care, which means that they're less likely to listen to precautions for contracting COVID-19 and interact with the healthcare system for testing and treatment. And for good reason. As discussed in a previous newsletter, our healthcare system has a legacy of providing inequitable treatment across racial groups. But beyond this, there’s are a series of gross acts of medical violence against communities of color throughout history. These have forced these communities to be wary, disenfranchising them from the care they deserve.

One reason for this is the forced sterilization of communities of color. Over 60,000 women – and some men – were sterilized without their consent across the U.S. between the 1930s and the 1970s (Huffington Post). These people were disproportionately Mexican, and many were Japanese. Similarly, in the 1960s and 1970s, thousands of Native American women were sterilized without consent (NYTimes). In Puerto Rico, nearly one-third of Puerto Rican women of childbearing age were sterilized, the world’s highest rate (University of Wisconsin-Madison). In the U.S., this violence were justified by a Supreme Court decision that actively sought to "breed out" traits that were considered undesirable (NPR). It’s fitting to believe that the medical system may be biased as a result.

In 1932, 600 men were invited to participate in a research study with the U.S. Public Health Service (PHS) to find a cure for syphilis. Participants were offered free medical care for their participation – and many participants, sharecroppers who had never had the chance to receive medical care before, signed up eagerly. Throughout their lifetime, men were monitored regularly by health officials and were assured they were being treated. But in reality, they were part of a sick experiment: the PHS was only watching to track the disease’s full progression untreated. The men were told they had “bad blood” but not that they had syphilis. They were only given placebos, like aspirin and mineral supplements, despite the fact that penicillin was widely available as a recommended treatment in 1947 (History). Researchers provided no effective care as the men “died, went blind or insane or experienced other severe health problems” until an outraged researcher leaked the story to the press in 1972, which prompted the study to be shut down. By that time, 28 participants had died from the disease. One hundred more passed away from related complications, at least 40 spouses had been diagnosed with it, and the disease had been passed to 19 children at birth (History).

This study alone is noted as creating deep distrust between Black patients that remember the story from their lifetime. Tuskegee Study alone is responsible for “over a third of the life expectancy gap between older black men and white men in 1980” (The Atlantic).

There’s also a significant percentage of our aging population of color that live in spaces where COVID-19 is rampant. Of the 1.5 million adults currently in state and federal prisons, 12% are over the age of 55, and the majority are people of color, which means that these pre-existing health conditions and distrust of the medical system are facing tight, unsanitary living conditions on top of everything else (JSTOR). But these numbers are rising; our aging. According to a 2012 report from the ACLU, the number of elderly prisoners is expected to double by 2030, calling for a more critical look at protecting our aging population from future pandemics behind bars (JSTOR).

We must invest in protecting the senior communities around us today. And, we need to create more policies and practices that foster a more equitable tomorrow. The U.S. is getting older; by 2035, there’s expected to be more people over the age of 65 than children under the age of 18 (Census). If we can’t count some of the historical biases and disparities that prevent some of us from being well now, there’s no guarantee we can support all of us later.

key takeaways

Aging communities of color are more likely to die from COVID-19 than white communities.
Weathering, or the accumulation of “fight and flight” response of the body because of racism and discrimination, leads to adverse health outcomes for people of color – particularly aging populations.
A series of acts of medical violence throughout history have created a deep distrust of the healthcare system in older communities of color.

8/17/2020 | Fight for equity in remote learning.

8/16/2020 | Think before eating out.

8/9/2020 | Understand the unemployment gap | COVID-19

8/2/2020 | Protect those vulnerable to extreme heat during COVID-19.

7/27/2020 | Support Asian Americans through COVID-19.

7/19/2020 | Rally for representation in science and research: COVID-19 and CDC.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 9/5/20 Nicole Cardoza 9/5/20

Study Hall! Defund the police or add more training?

Welcome to our weekly Study Hall. Each week I answer questions and share insights from each of you in our community. This week's responses focused mainly on the role of law enforcement in our society, which to me is one of the most pressing issues of our time. I answered a couple of questions on that and other things below.

If you prefer to read our newsletter only weekly, this is the email you'll receive. You can change your email preferences by updating your profile information here.

As always, your support is greatly appreciated. These contributions are our only source of funding and help us pay writers and develop new resources. You can give one-time on our website, PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe for $5/mo on our Patreon.

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

1. Reflect on the questions prompted by our community.

2. Ask yourself two questions about one of the topics we discussed this week. Discuss these questions with a friend or colleague.

GET EDUCATED

By Nicole Cardoza

In review: The newsletters we published this week.

Friday, 9/4/2020 | Tell museums to replace stolen artifacts.

Thursday, 9/3/2020 | Support mental health response services.

Wednesday, 9/2/2020 | Rally for fair appraisals.

Tuesday, 9/1/2020 | Learn the legacy of Japanese American incarceration.

Monday, 8/31/2020 | Condemn colorism.

Sunday, 8/30/2020 | Protect housing rights during COVID-19.

Additional Resources

One of our readers, Mallory, runs Don't Call the Police, a national database of local alternatives to dialing 911 when there's an issue. Learn more here: https://dontcallthepolice.com.

Q+A
Is the person calling 911 really able to discern whether police or mental health professionals are needed? What physical harm or risk may be present that requires a trained policeman to handle an altercation? The caller is probably very afraid of the actions of said person and just want the situation to be deescalated.

The individual calling 911 might not be able to discern enough, but there's ample research that shows that often, 911 responders can't, either. When the individual calls an alternative phone number, those trained responders are often more likely to gauge the situation and decide on the proper intervention – they could easily arrive with law enforcement if they deem it appropriate, OR encourage the caller to dial 911 outright.

When we have an assumption that the "caller is probably very afraid of the actions of said person" and only want to de-escalate, we're allowing that their fear and implicit biases lead the response. That centers the caller, and often not the needs of the individual, which is the point of offering more options.

Q+A
Does it make more sense to train police officers better in de-escalation especially with someone who potentially has mental health issues?

At a minimum, yes. On average, law enforcement spends about 58 hours on firearm training and just 8 hours on de-escalation or crisis intervention (Police Forum). So there's a ton that can change there. But considering the broad examples of harm already, compounded by the racial bias pervasive in law enforcement, there are more urgent calls to defund law enforcement and re-invest in other resources. There's no reason that we need to have law enforcement equally equipped to handle such a broad range of 911 calls. Medical professionals are likely best for health-related calls.

Furthermore, calls for re-investment argue that we can invest in mental health care support that prevents the 911 calls altogether. A punitive based approach to health doesn't change the health equity of any community. It instead focuses on de-escalating problems that preventing them altogether. And we deserve more resources to live healthier, happier lives.

Your question was followed with the statement that defunding might not be the answer, but remember that defunding the police doesn't mean getting rid of them entirely. It means analyzing where we can re-allocate funding to invest elsewhere, all of which should help from us overwhelming them with a wide range of social issues.

Q+A
When it comes to stolen art, why can’t museums buy the pieces from their original countries?

I suppose they could, perhaps as some form of reparations. But from what I understand, the goal now is to change the system entirely by building more points of accountability within the acquisition process. Also, the examples stated make it seem that most countries are more interested in preserving their culture than receiving financial compensation for it.

It begs a broader question: who deserves to have access to the art? Why was it ever okay for us to loot objects for our gain? And remember that the art world financially profits off of these objects as they change hands and remain on display for patrons. If monetary gains fuel this process of colocalization, I don't think we can justify it by sending money back to the countries (unless, of course, the countries themselves deem this the proper response).

Moving forward though, yes, a legal obtainment through a financial transaction seems more equitable than looting.

Reader Courtney shared the following on how the Field Museum is honoring art looted from Indigenous populations (which is a very similar story we're unpacking in a later newsletter):

The Field Museum in Chicago had the best response to Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act in the US that I have seen. They work with the tribes to either return the artifacts or work with the tribes to display the artifacts respectfully. They also educate about how the artifacts were not given by the tribes initially. It was the most honest and open I had ever seen a museum talk about how they received Native American artifacts and have tried to rectify that with respect and honor moving forward. They also took full ownership for a racist exhibit that was in their museum for decades. Now they use it to contextualize racism in science. It was amazing to see and learn, especially since museums are inherently elite, it felt very honest in a good way. They apologized for their history, but promised to do better now.

Bit more about their work here:
https://news.uchicago.edu/story/exhibition-upends-traditional-native-american-representations

Q+A
My family is Italian American and I have some family members who have over the years expressed frustration that “Japanese Internment” was taught to us but not the internment of Italians and Germans during the war. They have also complained that the Japanese American victims received compensation whereas the Italian and German victims did not. I've shared my disapproval with them on this already and would love to hear your thoughts.

Over 120,000 Japanese Americans were incarcerated. In contrast, approx. 10,000 German Americans and "hundreds" of Italian Americans were incarcerated. Both German American and Italian American citizens as a whole were deemed too valuable to the U.S. economic and political system for large-scale incarceration, which says a lot about the perception of Japanese Americans during that time, how our government valued human life, and the racial discrimination our country is still reckoning with.

As a result, there are broad differences in the scale of these decisions. We have to remember the devastating impact this had on the Japanese American community as a whole. The lasting physical and psychological harm, the mass loss of property, the fracture of families, and a long-lasting prejudice against Japanese people, which contributes to this country's racial bias against Asian communities. Comparatively, we do not see the same level of systemic and interpersonal racism against German American and Italian American people today.

I'm not saying that it shouldn't be taught, minimize any harm they experienced, or that the victims don't deserve compensation. It is all wrong, and all groups deserve justice. But these narratives are often a way to minimize the pain of marginalized communities to center the pain of those with more privilege. When people take that stance, they inherently continue to cause harm against Japanese Americans and insinuates that their struggles are less important.

Clarifications

The key takeaways for the Thursday, 9/3/2020 article were incorrect in the text portion of the email. That has been corrected in the archives.

RELATED ISSUES

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Nicole Cardoza 9/4/20 Nicole Cardoza 9/4/20

Tell museums to replace stolen artifacts.

It's Friday! Last week's newsletter on art generated a lot of discussion. Ebony continued her research to unpack how the art industry is reckoning with its history of colonialism. Her newsletter today unpacks why many museums are sending artifacts back to their home countries. It's a good reminder that in order to do this work, we must change our actions moving forward while acknowledging and repairing the past, as best we can.

Tomorrow is Study Hall, where we reflect on the key topics from this week and any questions from the community. Share your questions and insights by replying to this email, and I'll do my best to answer them!

As always, your contributions are so appreciated! You can give on our website, PayPal, or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe monthly on our Patreon.

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

The next time you visit a museum (even virtually), do the following:

Research how artifacts on display were brought to the museum
Look for stories of that museum participating in repatriation
Ask: How does the museum verify how objects from collectors and dealers are obtained?

Consider how your desire to support museums contributes to stolen artifacts being on display.

GET EDUCATED

By Ebony Bellamy

In 2013, the Metropolitan Museum of Art made headlines after announcing plans to return two statues to Cambodia. This announcement came after Cambodian officials were able to prove the two 10th-century Khmer statues, which were donated to the museum as separate gifts between 1987 and 1992, were smuggled out of a remote jungle temple around the time of the country’s civil war in the 1970s (New York Times).

This isn’t the first time a museum has been accused of acquiring stolen artifacts. The most notable is the British Museum, which displays various well-known artifacts from marginalized communities. The British Museum, along with museums in the UK, Germany, Austria, and the US, have bronze sculptures on display that were stolen in 1897 after British troops invaded the Kingdom of Benin, which is now southwestern Nigeria (History.com).

Nigeria has repeatedly asked the UK to return the sculptures, and in 2018 the two countries agreed to a deal that required the British Museum to send a few sculptures to Nigeria for the Royal Museum they plan to open in 2021 (History.com). However, the British Museum claims the bronze sculptures are on loan and expect Nigeria to return them.

In a 2007 United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) forum, they found that between 90% to 95% of sub-Saharan cultural artifacts are housed outside Africa (NPR). Many, like the bronze sculptures from Nigeria, were taken during the colonial period and now reside in museums across Europe and the US.

The British Museum is notorious for refusing to return artifacts to their country of origin. In 2016, Australia asked for the Gwaegal shield to be repatriated, which is the process of returning something or someone to their country of origin (Merriam-Webster). The shield was stolen from Australian Aboriginal people in the late 18th century by the British (History.com). Instead of returning the shield, the British Museum let Australia borrow it with the expectation that it will be returned to them, which it was. And the list of stolen artifacts the British Museum refuses to give back is long and includes Egypt’s Rosetta Stone, Easter Island’s Hoa Hakananai’a statue, and Greece’s Parthenon marbles (History.com).

Despite us knowing the origins of these famous artifacts, it’s extremely difficult to pinpoint the provenance of most items because once they’re removed from their original home, they’re sold to private collectors who sell them to museums and claim the items were legally acquired (The Verge). The Archaeological Institute of America estimates that roughly 85 to 90 percent of classical and various other types of artifacts don’t have a documented place of origin (The Verge).

This makes it extremely difficult to determine which artifacts should be considered for repatriation because there is no specific way to decide whether or not an artifact was stolen or acquired legally. To deal with this, the UN created the 1970 convention, which was designed to end the export of stolen artifacts and allow countries to file repatriation claims and pay to have their items returned to them. But, a 2012 UN report showed that the 1970 convention had “serious weakness,” such as a lack of staff and limited international laws to support its mission (The Verge). So, the UN committee was created and it has presided over six successful restitution cases in the last 40 years (The Verge).

UNESCO and Interpol have also been helping maintain watch lists for artifacts that are reported stolen (The Verge). But, despite all their efforts, when it comes to American museums, repatriation occurs on a case-by-case basis, normally when foreign governments provide museum officials with solid evidence that an artifact was stolen (The Verge).

As a result, there’s no adequate way to keep track of how many repatriation claims have been filed over the years. Within the US alone, both the Association of Art Museum Directors (AAMD) and the American Alliance of Museums (AAM) admitted they don’t keep records of repatriation claims and returns (The Verge). Despite the lack of records, museums are still actively returning stolen artifacts to their countries of origin.

Last year, the Metropolitan Museum of Art returned a stolen 2,100-year-old coffin to Egypt after officials discovered it was looted and smuggled from the country in 2011 (BBC News). In 2010, the Brooklyn Museum parted ways with 4,500 pre-Columbian artifacts that were stolen a century ago. They offered these pieces to the National Museum of Costa Rica for $59,000 because the Brooklyn Museum’s closets were “overstuffed with items acquired during an era when it aimed to become the biggest museum in the world” (New York Times).

In 2018, French President Emmanuel Macron announced that 26 bronze artifacts, which were “looted during General Dodd’s bloody siege on the Béhanzin palace in 1892,” will be returned to the country of Benin (artnet News). This a part of a five-year plan to “enact a permanent restitution agenda for all art taken ‘without consent’ from Africa during the colonial era” (artnet News). This means that all museums in France will have to return all or most of their African artifacts.

To implement Macron’s vision, a study was performed, which recommended: “the restitution of any objects taken by force or presumed to be acquired through inequitable conditions by the army, scientific explorers or administrators during the French colonial period in Africa, which lasted from the late 19th century until 1960” (The Guardian). Once this was released, museums across Europe raced to develop new policies on restitution and repatriation, so they wouldn’t have to forfeit artifacts they’ve had at their museums for years (The Guardian).

This response shows museums’ blatant disregard for the history they’re trying so hard to preserve. Yes, these artifacts are valuable pieces of history that should be available for everyone to see. But, they should also be accessible to the nations and countries they were stolen from. Those places deserve to have ownership of essential pieces of their heritage and culture. They didn’t ask to have their history stolen or their people enslaved and murdered.

So, we as a society, we should acknowledge our theft of artifacts and culture and work to make marginalized communities and countries feel seen and appreciated.

key takeaways

Repatriation is the process of identifying a stolen artifact and returning it to its country of origin.
It’s difficult to pinpoint the provenance of an artifact because private collectors can claim the items were legally acquired with forged documents.
The 1970 convention, UN committee, Interpol, and UNESCO help prevent the export of stolen artifacts and allow countries to file repatriation claims.
In American museums, repatriation occurs on a case-by-case basis, normally when foreign governments provide museum officials with solid evidence that an artifact was stolen.

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Nicole Cardoza 9/3/20 Nicole Cardoza 9/3/20

Support mental health response services.

Happy Thursday!

And a special three month anniversary to the Anti-Racism Daily! How long have you been on this journey with us? Take a look back and reflect on what you've learned. Do you have a story about how you've put the ARD into action? Let me know by replying to this email – we might feature you on our podcast launching next week! 🎉

But first, be sure to read today's call to advocate for alternative mental health response services in your community. Our criminal justice system wasn't designed for this, and as we demand justice for Daniel Prude we must also create more accountability for the safety of those most vulnerable.

As always, your contributions are so appreciated! You can give on our website, PayPal, or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe monthly on our Patreon.

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Research: What are the alternatives to calling 911 in your city?

Are there none? Learn what your city council is planning for future budget spending related to law enforcement. Fight for an alternative.

Donate to the GoFundMe to support the family of Daniel Prude.

GET EDUCATED

By Nicole Cardoza

On March 23, Joe Prude noticed his brother, Daniel Prude, acting strangely and called the police for help. Officers found Daniel Prude naked and unarmed. He complied with officers’ demands and was quickly handcuffed. The officers then placed a spit sock – a mesh device used to shield police officers from spit and blood from the victim – over Prude’s head, one asking him whether or not he had AIDS. The officers then pin Prude down on the ground for over two minutes, ignoring Prude’s cries for help and continue to kneel on him as he appears to stop breathing. The family took Prude off of life support the following week. The medical examiner determined Prude’s death was a homicide. The police body camera footage was recently released as the family and local activists demand justice. Full story on The Appeal.

“I placed the phone call for my brother to get help, not for my brother to get lynched. When I say get lynched, that was full fledged, murder, cold-blooded — nothing other than cold-blooded murder. The man is defenseless, naked on the ground, cuffed up already. I mean come on, how many brothers got to die for society to understand that this needs to stop? You killed a defenseless black man, a father’s son, a brother’s brother, a nephew’s uncle.”
Joe Prude, the brother of Daniel Prude, for Rochester First

Ashley Gantt, a community organizer from Free the People Roc and the New York Civil Liberties Union, spoke with the family and other activists yesterday demanding justice. Their speech noted that "the Rochester Police Department has shown time and again that they are not trained to deal with mental health crises. These officers are trained to kill and not to de-escalate” (Democrat and Chronicle). This story, unfortunately, isn’t distinct to just Rochester. Across the country, individuals with mental health conditions are disproportionately impacted by the police.

One in four people killed by police in 2015 had a severe mental health condition (Washington Post). And beyond this, 40% of people with serious mental health conditions will interact with the criminal justice system in their lifetimes. 2 million are booked in jails each year (Washington Post). Most of these individuals haven’t been convicted of a crime, but if they have, they’re more likely to have been charged with a minor offense than something series (NAMI).

What’s more? They:

Remain in jail 4x to 8x longer than people without mental health conditions charged with the same crime
Cost 7x more than other inmates in jail
Are less likely to make bail
Are more likely to gain new charges while incarcerated

In fact, there are more people with mental health conditions in prisons than hospitals (Washington Post).

And communities of color, particularly Black people, are especially at risk, as they’re already disproportionately impacted by police brutality (Time). As we discussed in an earlier newsletter, Black people are more likely to have mental health issues and other disabilities, and less likely to receive diagnosis and treatment (Time).

This is why the conversation surrounding “defund the police” is so critical. Our law enforcement often acts as first responders for mental health crises. John Snook, the executive director of the Treatment Advocacy Center, emphasizes that mental health crises is the only medical illness that we allow the police to respond to. “Someone has a heart attack, a stroke—we don't send the police to help them. Law enforcement aren't trained to be mental health professionals” (Vice).

Part of this is because of a historical shift to defund mental health, accelerated in the 1960s with the passage of Medicaid (Mother Jones). From there, a series of mental health funding cuts caused state mental health services to dwindle nationwide. The Sentencing Project found that 6 out of 10 states with the least access to care have the highest rates of incarceration. Learn more about the history of deinstitutionalization and defunding the police in-depth over at Vice.

But another part of this is a history of intentionally deeming Black people as mentally ill to justify enslavement and dehumanization, which Ebony explained in detail in an earlier newsletter on Black mental health. Not only has this bias become reinforced throughout history, it becomes cemented within our criminal justice system when a Black person experiencing a mental health crises become synonymous with danger and threat.

Mental health response organizations across the country are providing that alternative forms of support are possible, and effective in supporting citizens in need without violence. CAHOOTS, or Crisis Assistance Helping Out on the Streets, is a non-profit organization working alongside local police in Eugene, OR to support mental health 911 calls, meeting those in need wtih medical resources nad trained professionals (Vice). Austin has a Expanded Mobile Crisis Outreach Team which does the same, and is expanding into telehealth care (Gov 1). More initiatives like this are expanding across the country (Vice) and could effectively reallocate funding from law enforcement while keeping these vulnerable communities safe.

And all of the news about police brutality is creating more mental health strain, exacerbating the problem at hand. A study published in The Lancet in 2018 found that stories of police killings have adverse effects on mental health among Black American adults who were not directly affected by the incident (Penn Today). Another study published in 2019 found that viewing viral videos of police killings, beatings, and arrests — and seeing images of immigrants in cages — was associated with symptoms of depression and PTSD in adolescents (Journal of Adolescent Health). According to the lead researcher Brendesha Tynes, this is especially insidious, as it can “make these kids feel worse about their racial identity, and make them internalize some of that dehumanization” (The Verge). We frequently write about why we don’t share graphic videos of brutality, and this is part of the reason why.

The Lancet study recommends that communities should have, in part, adequate mental health resources to heal from the trauma of these incidents. As we collectively continue to watch the video footage and stories circulate in the media, we need to resource ourselves as best we can to make it through during this significant racial reckoning of our time.

key takeaways

Individuals with mental health conditions, particularly people of color, are more likely to be negatively impacted by the criminal justice system
There are more people with mental health conditions in prisons than hospitals
By investing in community-based mental health services crisis response services we can decrease police brutality

8/26/2020 | Be an active bystander.

8/24/2020 | Demand justice for Jacob Blake.

8/23/2020 | Support those incarcerated and impacted by COVID-19.

8/12/2020 | Demand justice for Elijah McClain.

7/26/2020 | Pay attention to the Portland protests.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 9/2/20 Nicole Cardoza 9/2/20

Rally for fair appraisals.

Happy Wednesday!

There is SO MUCH to write about. So much, in fact, that we could send ten emails a day and still not keep up with the news. But when I saw the story below, I knew I had to share the historical context, and how this discrimination robs communities of not just their generational wealth, but political wealth. Hopefully, it offers more context for what you see unfolding during the protests, and encourage you to analyze how damaging our racial biases can be.

As always, your contributions are so appreciated! You can give on our website, PayPal, or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe monthly on our Patreon.

ps – I'll never send ten emails a day, but I do send one each day without fail. And I hope you stick with it. If you'd prefer to get just one weekly recap (delivered on Saturdays) you can update your profile here.

TAKE ACTION

If you experience or hear of racial bias by appraisers, report them. Use this website to help determine the best course of action by state: https://refermyappraisalcomplaint.asc.gov/.

Subscribe to updates from one fair housing organization in your neighborhood or closest major city nearby.

Reflect: How has your racial bias influenced your perception of the value or worth of a property or location?

GET EDUCATED

By Nicole Cardoza

It’s a story you may have seen on your newsfeeds this week: a couple in Jacksonville, Florida, wanted to take advantage of this season’s low home-refinance rates. They hired an appraiser to review their four-bedroom, four-bath ranch-style house. Based on the market prices for their neighborhood, they expected a number around $450,000. So, they were surprised to find the appraiser’s value of $330,000.

The owner, Abena Horton, who is Black, suspected racial bias played a part. So, according to her Facebook post that went viral, organized a second appraisal, but did the following:

"We took down all family pictures containing Black relatives. We took down all pictures of African-American greats that we display to inspire our son. Zora Neale Hurston and Toni Morrison came down from the bookshelves; Shakespeare went up. My son and I took a convenient shopping trip during the appraisal, leaving my white male husband to show the appraiser around, alone."

The house was appraised for $465,000.

As the post gained popularity and was covered by the NYTimes, more Black homeowners shared their stories. This wasn’t an isolated incident; many of these homeowners have removed family photos and had white friends stand-in during appraisals and home sales in hopes to get a fairer price. In the NYTimes, comedian, and actor D.L. Hughley shared that an appraisal he received was so low the bank flagged the report for inaccuracy (NYTimes).

Devaluing property owned by Black people, or preventing ownership at all, is a practice that goes back decades in America. Although there are several issues that have contributed to the lack of land ownership by Black people throughout history, one is particularly relevant to appraisals. In the 1930s, as part of the New Deal, the federal government created a series of initiatives to incentivize home ownership (The Atlantic). As part, surveyors analyzed neighborhoods thorughout the country to identify which were most deserving of support, color-coding them green for “best,” blue for “still desirable,” yellow for “definitely declining” and red for “hazardous. Areas outlined in red, or “redlined” areas, were neighborhoods with predominantly communities of color. Raical biases at the time saw these individuals as untrustworthy for lines of credit, and their communities as unsavorable places to live. As a result, loans in redlined neighborhoods were extremely high or completely unavaialble (Washington Post). From 1934 to 1962, “98% of the Federal Housing Administration Loans went to White Americans” (NBC Chicago). A 1943 brochure encouraged realtors to avoid undesirables such as “madams, bootleggers, gangsters—and ‘a colored man of means who was giving his children a college education and thought they were entitled to live among whites’” (The Atlantic).

These practices “ended” in 1968, when the Fair Housing Act banned racial discrimination in housing, but discriminatory practices are still happening today. These racial perspectives of the value of "redlined" neighborhoods, and homeowners of color, are reflected in how these homes are valued in today's time, with devastating impact.

A study from Brookings Institue puts this into perspective. Their research found that owner-occupied homes in Black neighborhoods are undervalued by $48,000 per home on average, amounting to $156 billion in cumulative losses. The homes in neighborhoods where the population is 50% Black are valued at roughly half the price as homes in communities with no Black residents. And these neighborhoods with greater devaluation are more likely to be segregated than others. They also produce less upward mobility for the Black children who grow up in those communities. This mobility is just a hint at the generational impact of this economic disparity and emphasizes why rebalancing this disparity is so important. Read the full study over at Brookings’ website.

And this devalued property is ripe for gentrification, a topic we covered in an earlier newsletter. Many neighborhoods that are historically non-white will receive an influx of middle-class people, eager for accessible property prices. This is followed by a swift revaluation of the same property, forcing out existing community members or dissuading others from moving in (NPR).

And when economic justice meets social justice, more tensions arise, evident in the destruction of property during protests this summer. After a history of redlining and dispossession, Black people often live in communities where they don’t own any of the property. Lack of homeownership usually means a lack of local agency; landowners are often prioritized in policies made by local government, as they pay the property taxes that influence funding for local utilities. So when police brutality happens, Black people are not just outraged by the violence itself, but the lack of agency to drive political change. Conservatives will argue that communities are so willing to “destroy their own neighborhoods,” but who’s neighborhoods are they, really, if Black people can’t safely walk the streets to enjoy them? This conversation is explored in-depth by Aaron Ross Coleman in an interview with Andre M. Perry, a fellow in the Metropolitan Policy Program at the Brookings Institution, a scholar-in-residence at American University, and the author of Know Your Price: Valuing Black Lives and Property in America’s Black Cities, in Vox.

“As long as black lives matter less than the property that they are surrounded by, you never provide incentives not to burn something down. So when people say, “Don’t burn down the goods, businesses, services in your local neighborhood.” They’re missing the point of why people are protesting. The very fact that you have to say that means that they — the property, the goods, the services, the businesses — are so undervalued that the people around them are not respected.”
Andre M. Perry, a fellow, scholar-in-residence, and author, for Vox.

Housing wealth represents a significant amount of American wealth. In fact, homeowners' median net worth was 80 times larger than renters' median net worth in 2015 (Census.gov). And unsurprisingly, the gap between White and Black homeownership today is larger than it was when housing discrimination was legal (CNBC). And considering the added equity homeownership can bring to shaping neighborhoods as a whole, the right to fair homeownership is necessary to create a more equitable future for us all.

key takeaways

Black homeowners routinely experience lower appraisal values than white homeowners.
The practice of “redlining” historically made homeownership incredibly difficult for non-white communities, and the discrimination from that time still persists.
Homeownership is important for building generational wealth and share of voice in local communities.

6/28/2020 | Understand disparities in healthcare treatment.

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Nicole Cardoza 9/1/20 Nicole Cardoza 9/1/20

Learn the legacy of Japanese American incarceration.

It's Tuesday and a new month. And here's hoping it brings some ease, grace, and collective healing.

I didn't learn about the Japanese American "internment" in school. Perhaps you didn't either. Yet this narrative isn't surprising considering our country's relationship with exclusion and inequitable criminal justice system. I'm grateful to have Jami's article – laced with heartbreaking personal narratives – carry us through history for today's Anti-Racism Daily. You can read more stories on incarceration on our updated archives page (long overdue for a facelift).

Thank you for all who make this work possible. If you're inspired by this work, you can give one-time on our website, PayPal, or via Venmo (@nicoleacardoza). Or, subscribe monthly to our Patreon.

Nicole

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Investigate how your state or local school district teaches Japanese American incarceration. If it’s inadequate, contact them. (Feel free to share this newsletter).
Read more about the history of Japanese America on Densho’s Core Story.
Follow Japanese American activist organizations on Instagram like @tsuruforsolidarity, @jasforjustice, and @nikkeiresisters.

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By Jami Nakamura Lin

“I was wondering how will they ever put all of us in a place that small. What surprised me most was why did the soldiers have to stand guard with guns...and to tell you the truth the way some people stared at us, it chilled me a bit.”

My grandfather, then sixteen, reflecting in 1944 on his arrival at Amache (Granada) Relocation Camp two years earlier.

Often when we talk about it amongst ourselves, we call it camp. To others, the benign-sounding word could recall sleepaway summers, pitched tents, sing-alongs around a campfire. But when I ask other yonsei (fourth-generation Japanese Americans) if their grandparents were also in camp, what I mean is: was your family also forcibly removed from their homes, from their lives? Were they also labeled the enemy and locked up for years? We call it camp, but what we mean is incarceration. What we mean is that we are just one link in the long American tradition of locking up people of color for no other reason than we are here. The effects of such incarceration linger within us, years and years after the inhabitants are set “free.”

On February 19, 1942, President Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066, which commanded the forcible evacuation of Japanese Americans living on the West Coast. As a result, 120,000 Japanese Americans (and some Canadians and Latin Americans of Japanese descent) were incarcerated (National Archives). He passed this order despite a report commissioned by Congress that showed that Japanese Americans posed no threat. The army general in charge of the West Coast summed up the general government feeling when he stated, “They are a dangerous element, whether loyal or not,” (Smithsonian).

In school— if you learned about this event at all— you probably learned about it under the name internment. But this is inaccurate, as the Japanese American-led organization Densho explains: “‘Internment’ refers to the legally permissible, though morally questionable, detention of ‘enemy aliens’ in time of war. There were approximately 8,000 Issei (“first generation”) arrested as enemy aliens and subjected to what could be described as “internment” in a separate set of camps… This term becomes a misleading, othering euphemism when applied to American citizens detained by their own government.” Today, we choose to call this event what it was: incarceration.

It was incarceration based (like much mass incarceration) not on facts or danger, but on racism and economics. After Japan’s government bombed Pearl Harbor in 1941, anti-Japanese American rhetoric was pervasive. At the same time, lobbyists representing “competing economic interests or nativist groups” pressured the federal government to remove Japanese Americans from the West Coast (Our Documents/National Archives). Incarceration also functioned as a land grab, as many white farmers were resentful of Japanese American farmers’ increasing presence. The Commission on Wartime Relocation and Internment of Civilians estimated that Japanese Americans lost what in 2020 would be $3.38 billion in property and $7 billion in income as a result of incarceration (Personal Justice Denied via National Archives).

After the order was passed, Japanese Americans were given only a few days to evacuate, only allowed to pack what they could carry. “Many of the neighbors came to offer us ridiculously low prices for our possessions,” my grandfather recalls. Their refrigerator went for a dollar; the $700 car all the family had saved up for went for $100. They were taken to Merced, California, where they spent six months in one of fifteen euphemistically titled “assembly centers,” while the Army built permanent incarceration camps (Densho). In September, my grandfather and his family were evacuated again to Amache (Granada), a camp in the middle of the Colorado desert, where they would spend the next three years in a 20x25 barracks (Amache.org).

Not one Japanese American was ever found guilty of espionage or any other war crime.

In 1980, Congress organized a federal commission to investigate the impact of Executive Order 9066. Its 467-page report (fittingly titled Personal Justice Denied) called the camps a “grave injustice, motivated by racial prejudice, war hysteria, and the failure of political leadership” (Personal Justice Denied via National Archive). Later, the Sanseis (third-generation Japanese Americans) fought for reparations for their parents and grandparents (Densho). This decades-long battle, fraught with dissent even within our community, led to the Civil Liberties Act of 1988, also called H.R. 442 in honor of the highly decorated Japanese American 442nd Regimental Combat Team (Go For Broke). The act stipulated that the $20,000 in compensation would only be paid out to survivors themselves, not descendants of any incarcerees who had died, because the government did not want to set a precedent or framework for reparations for “the descendants of slaves, [Indigenous people] forced onto reservations, Mexicans who lost land, and other historical victims of racism,” (Densho).

Today there are many Japanese American activist groups that utilize our past to work in solidarity with other people of color. We try to use the legacy of Japanese American incarceration as an opening to speak to our elders and our community. Japanese American-led activist groups are using our history to mobilize our community to protest detention sites (Tsuru for Solidarity), combat anti-Blackness (Japanese Americans Citizens League on Facebook), and fight against mass incarceration (Nikkei Uprising on Facebook). At a recent protest at Cook County Jail, young Japanese Americans lay origami cranes to honor those killed by police and who died in prison now, and our ancestors who died inside the World War II camps (NPR).

Densho’s mission – “to preserve and share history of the WWII incarceration of Japanese Americans to promote equity and justice today” – succinctly summarizes why it’s so important to remember these historical events: because the past links to the present and the future. Today, Japanese Americans as a group are no longer treated the same way we were back then (though anti-Asian sentiment during the coronavirus hearkens back to those tropes, as I write elsewhere). But incarceration and its related trauma have profoundly shaped our community and our culture.

Last week, my grandfather turned 92. He still can remember the names of all the people he knew at Amache. He remembers what cell block they lived in, what hometowns they left behind. It happened eighty years ago, and it still affects him — and us, his children and grandchildren, and great-grandchildren — to this day. The racist actions our government is taking today — the border camps, the mass incarceration, the police brutality — are going to reverberate in communities of color for decades to come.

key takeaways

During World War II, over 120,000 Japanese Americans were incarcerated because of the American government’s racist, unfounded fears.
President Roosevelt signed this executive order despite Congress finding no evidence to support it.
No Japanese American was ever found guilty of espionage or any war crime.
After a long battle, Japanese American camp survivors received monetary reparations—yet our government still refuses to discuss reparations for slavery or for Indigenous people.

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