Read on Twitter
I& #39;ve been reflecting on the similarities/differences between the current COVID-19 crisis and my own experiences with natural disasters growing up in the Dominican Republic, specifically hurricane Georges in 1998 (I was 9yrs old). A thread: 1/
For context, you should know that I grew up in an upper-middle class household in Santo Domingo, literally two blocks away from the ocean. When the capital is by the coast, and the country is in an island, there& #39;s only so many places you can evacuate to, so we decided to stay. 2/
For the longest time, my fondest memory of that event was the resiliency of my people and coming together as a community to deal with the aftermath. I remember my dad and neighbors going out with a machete once the storm had passed to chop down fallen tree trunks and branches. 3/
I kid you not, the entire neighborhood was single-handedly cleaned up by its residents. I helped with the bagging of the smaller (and safer) chunks of debris. All the kids did. 4/
I vaguely remember feeling a bit scared when the storm was at its strongest (we all "hid" inside the bathtub). This fear was quickly overshadowed by the excitement of being allowed to (briefly) look out the window during the eye of the storm. 5/
I remember actually being excited listening to the reports coming through the emergency weather radio since I had been designated my family& #39;s official "safety report officer." I took my "job" very seriously, unbeknownst to me that it was just a shielding game. 6/
I remember thinking: "this hurricane thing isn& #39;t so bad. Bring it on, we can take it." After all, although there was no electricity for weeks and the recovery was slow, we were alive and unhurt, our houses were still standing, and we had a newfound sense of community, right? 7/
What I don& #39;t remember is how just seven blocks away, at one of the most marginalized neighborhoods in the city, the storm ravaged through, leaving hundreds dead and thousands physically injured, without a home, and emotionally traumatized. 8/
What I don& #39;t remember is how badly the economy was hurt and how (or if) we managed to bounce back as a country. I don& #39;t remember the additional repercussions that came much later that further marginalized and disenfranchised other communities. 9/
What I don& #39;t remember is how that awesome clean up job we did as a community was not met with effective pickup and disposal action from an incompetent and corrupt government, thus generating an additional public health crisis. 10/
I don& #39;t remember because I didn& #39;t know. I don& #39;t remember because I was privileged and sheltered. I don& #39;t remember because people made sure that I *wouldn& #39;t* remember. 11/
I didn& #39;t know because I didn& #39;t even know that I should care to know. I didn& #39;t grow up knowing there was so much more outside my perfectly crafted self-reinforcing bubble. 12/
I was privileged to live in a concrete house that could withstand the wind forces even at only two blocks away from the ocean. I was privileged that all my family and friends shared the same privilege. 13/
I was sheltered because I had (have) family that, however misguided, wanted to keep this event from being a traumatizing experience and succeeded wonderfully. Or maybe I didn& #39;t know because my family also didn& #39;t know. 14/
I didn& #39;t know because I also grew up with a government very adept at hiding twisting the truth. 15/
During these unprecedented times, it& #39;s important to remember that just because you don& #39;t experience something with the same devastating wrath as others do, doesn& #39;t make its effects any less true. 16/
Just because you& #39;re blinded by your priviledge doesn& #39;t make other& #39;s oppression any less traumatic. As a matter of fact, your priviledge (and refusal to accept it as such) directly contributes to other& #39;s oppression in ways that you can& #39;t even begin to fathom. 17/
The full effects of COVID-19 are (and will be) most harshly felt by those communities oppressed by our egregious systems. The effects will be traumatizing and insidious, embodied in people& #39;s dispositions, skin, and bones, and they will be carried for generations to come. 18/
If you thought this thread was going to end any differently, then you& #39;re not paying close attention to your surroundings. This is not a time for platitudes. This is not a time to pat ourselves in the back because *some* folks are courageous enough to use their power for good. 19/
This is the time to think critically about WHY those folks needed to do so in the first place. This is a time to get angry about that answer and redirect that anger towards systemic change. 20/
Easier said than done, I know. Unfortunately, those who need the changes the most are in the weakest position to act on it (by design!). But for those of us with (slightly) more power to contribute to that change (even if small) there is a moral responsibility to do so. 21/
Parents: talk to your kids about oppression, racism, sexism, ableism, (and any other isms you can think of). Engage them in understanding the consequences of such a system. 22/
Teachers: use this time to reflect on your own physical and virtual classroom setup and the institutional system in which you yourself are embedded on. Use however much or little leeway you have in your courses to talk to your students about it. 23/
Citizens: call your constituents and get out and vote! I know voting is itself a contentious topic right now, but we have to find a way to get other (better) folks in power and keep the good ones there! 24/
Bottom line is: No nos durmamos en los laureles. Otherwise this anger may never materialize into actual change. 25/fin.
