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2021-04-20
JOTPY Exhibit: "Arizona's COVID-19 Pandemics" by James Rayroux
While working as a curatorial intern on ASU's 'A Journal of the Plague Year' COVID-19 archive, I created this exhibit on the pandemic experience within the state. In addition to obvious, overarching realities such as socioeconomic status and immediate access to healthcare systems, I initially believed one of the greatest deciding factors that determined one's experience in Arizona was an individual's residence in either predominantly urban or rural environments. The proposed exhibit had been originally titled "A Tale of Two Arizonas" to pay respect to Charles Dickens and the differing realities experienced here. To test my proposed hypothesis, I went about finding data, stories, and submissions that substantiated or disputed my premise. Within a short time, I had identified four distinct environmental drivers of personal pandemic experiences; to me, that indicated the existence of many more I hadn't yet found or had overlooked along the way. My evidence suggested a minimum of four pandemic locales: Urban, Rural, Border, and Tribal within the State of Arizona and its fifteen counties. The recorded health data and personal experiences demonstrated the naivete of my initial hypothesis, and I retitled the exhibit: "Arizona's COVID-19 Pandemics." The Exhibit Background section illustrates the vast dichotomies within Arizona in terms of population density and access to healthcare facilities. Given the virus's respiratory nature, these factors seemed especially relevant to driving diverse local experiences. I chose to include a flyer from the Coconino County Health and Human Services' "Face It! Masks Save Lives" campaign. The flyer included a specific line to "Stay Home When Sick" that seemed to illustrate a different public health paradigm than the broader "stay home" orders from Maricopa and Pima county. This section also features an image of Sedona's red rocks and a portion of The Wave to remind visitors of the wide-open rural areas accessible to all, as well as those with cultural significance to the Native American tribes and limited access to the general public. The next section asks a short, five-question survey in which visitors may participate. The Silver Linings piece features a short audio clip of a father and husband discussing some unexpected benefits of the pandemic. Visitors may explore additional Silver Linings stories and submit their own experience. The Tséhootsooí Medical Center piece seeks to illustrate the different pandemic experience on the state's tribal lands. I hoped to inspire some relevant emotional turmoil for the visitors through the piece's visual presentation. I wanted to create a series of waves with quotes from the medical center's healthcare workers. I hoped visitors' attention would be drawn to the large, bolded key words, and that they would first experience the segments out of sequence because of that. After potentially feeling a sense of chaos, they might settle themselves into a deliberate reading of the texts and find their own order within the experiences provided here. This piece allows further exploration of Native submissions and topics, a review of an additional related news article, and a submission prompt that invites visitors to offer guidance to hospital managers. The next piece illustrates the differences between mask mandates in communities across Arizona. In addition to hearing an audio clip of interviews with mayors and a public health official, visitors can explore additional submissions related to mask mandates and submit their thoughts on statewide mandates. The Arizona Department of Health Services provides zip-code specific infection data on its website, and the wide array of known case infections therein further illustrates potential dichotomies across the state. In working to include and represent this data in a consumable way, I encountered inconsistencies with tribal data. The nation's Indian tribes are overseen by Indian Health Services, a federal public health agency, and it does not collect or report data in the same manner as the State of Arizona or its counties. At first glance, the data would seem to suggest that tribal areas had less severe pandemic experiences than the rural and urban areas, which was not objectively true. I wanted to offer the unedited data to visitors, allow them to drawn their own conclusions, and invite them to offer their thoughts on what potential misunderstandings might emanate from these reporting differences. Visitors may also choose to review the foundational data from this piece, as well. I used the following two sections to offer submission prompts about the visitor's overall pandemic experience as a function of their location, as well as what they might have done if placed in charge of their city, county, or state during this pandemic. A diverse Search section allows visitors to explore additional topics of interest to them. 23 hyperlinks offer pre-defined search parameters. An Advanced Search link allows self-defined research, and a Join The Staff link connects visitors with opportunities to work within the JOTPY archive. A final section asks visitors to provide feedback on the exhibit, its content, and the pandemic in general. Both surveys within the exhibit will display overall results to visitors who participate in them. Through this process, I found incredible amounts and diversity of data outside the archive that spoke to these generally localized experiences, but not that much yet within the archive explained what Arizonans had experienced outside the state's urban environments. I created a call for submissions and delivered it to fifty rural entities that might help support the effort to collect and preserve more rural Arizona stories. Between all the local libraries, historical societies, museums, small-town mayors, and county health officials to whom I asked for help, I am optimistic the archive will better represent all Arizonans in the coming months and years. Despite the exhibit having been created, I ensured its internal search features would include future submissions and allow the exhibit to remain relevant long after its release. -
2021-03-06
Spring Reading II
Warm weather = reading outside and getting fresh air! Not being cooped up in the apartment is wonderful for my mental health and to finally get some sun. -
2021-03-06
Spring Reading
It's finally warm enough to sit outside and do homework, which really helps me not be cooped up in the house all day and night. It's not much, but just being outside for a few hours really helps my mental health. -
2021-04-07
Little Gifts
My dad is a paramedic currently working three jobs within the EMS field. He's basically only home one day out of the week. I take care of the house and my little sister while he's gone but I know the job is hard right now, especially with Covid-19. When I can, I buy him little gifts I think he would appreciate, like this Hawkeye Funko Pop. I honestly just wish they would pay paramedics and other EMS related first responders more than what they get now, especially since this pandemic has shown how necessary and essential their job is. -
2021-02-11
Oral Histories and Archiving
Looking through the oral history section of JOTPY, I noticed a few recordings of interviews. This got me thinking about oral history and its similarities to journalism and the work journalists do. I then started thinking about how journalists and historical societies could work together to keep oral histories and newspapers. Could there be a way for journalists to get the correct permission from their interviewees to have their recorded interviews be put into the historical society of the area where they’re working? I was thinking of my time at a small-town newspaper in a rural area. What if my interviews with the local people and the local government officials who aren’t necessarily big-names were put into the archive to help fill the space? Could these interviews help provide a bigger picture of the town and the way it worked during this timeframe? Could they fill a “silence” these historical societies and their archives have? I also recorded town hall meetings and school board meetings almost every week. These meetings are recorded, but often in written form by a secretary. I was recording these events via phone/recording device (actual audio). The work I was doing (the work a journalist does) offers another medium for the archive. I think this would be an interesting interdisciplinary project, especially within rural areas. And what about now? The move towards online meetings and discussion due to the pandemic allows more accessibility to these board meetings or interviews. But are they being archived at the local level? Private meetings are a bit iffy on permissions and accessibilities, but what about those meetings open to the public? Are they being recorded and then placed where others can access it, and then is the local town historian or historical society archiving it as well? If they are, how are they doing it? -
May 5, 2020 - August 31, 2020
M.A. in Zoom pt. 2: The Myth of Summer
This entry is the second part to capturing what the first six months of my graduate school experience was like. I’m a graduate student in the public history program at St. Mary’s University in San Antonio, Texas. I, like many students throughout all levels of education, felt a dramatic shift during or following spring break 2020. As the world began to catch on fire, I was just starting to piece together my final project which would enable me to graduate with my M.A. degree. Despite the chaos, I managed to survive the rest of the semester, and actually get a good head start on my project. I achieved two new job opportunities and reunited with my boyfriend after going two months without seeing each other. Things were going really well for me and I found a sense of confidence I hadn’t felt in three months. A confidence that might’ve crossed the line into arrogance. This is when I actually got serious about the pandemic. I chose to forget that just because things were going well in my world, didn’t mean things were going well in the real world. I, along with many of my fellow citizens, gave in to the idea that the south Texas heat would significantly curb the spread of the virus. As Texas began to open up, I began going out–not just for academic purposes but also for my own selfish desires to feel myself again. I returned to my local gym. I ate out (in doors) at restaurants. I went to an outdoor bar with my parents (one that was not abiding by the six feet separation policy). I heard the medical experts’ warnings against the loosening of restrictions; I was aware of the slowly but still increasing COVID cases in the city, but chose to act selfishly. This selfishness transferred over to my academic goals. I was blinded by my ambition (or anxiety) to hit the ground running with my capstone. Maybe I knew that after a certain point, it would no longer be safe nor socially acceptable to meet with people outside of my immediate community. The second and third photos were taken from the first sets of oral histories I conducted with my community partners, the Ballet Folklórico de San Antonio. This is Bonnie Ramos and Mark Molina, the head creative directors of the Ballet Folklórico de San Antonio. Prior to these interviews, I had to meet with these leaders to plan out these interviews. We were all fully ready to conduct in-person oral histories not only with these two, but also their friends and family members. In the second photo, we were more conscious of the virus as you can see Ms. Ramos is wearing a mask. However, in the following interview with Bonnie and Mark, done just [two] weeks later, you can see that we chose to let our guards down (falling in line with the rest of the San Antonio, and overall Texas, community). In both photos we made sure to keep a distance between us, but we did not measure exactly six feet. Off camera, we also made sure to interact at a distance, however, we all chipped in to set the interview setting. In between interviews I came down with a case of strep throat. I had to get tested for COVID and the results came two days later, which means my family and I held our breaths for two days. Thankfully I was negative, but strep really kicked my butt. I thought to myself, “If this is what strep feels like, I don’t want to know what COVID feels like.” The doctor was very sure that I only had strep because I had no other symptoms (such as respiratory difficulties). However, COVID is different for everyone – so I heard. I began to drown myself in COVID statistics which made me feel even worse; but also made me snap and understand that I cannot be my control freak self in the midst of a pandemic. Included are some images of COVID statistics in San Antonio from the point that I contracted strep until the end of August. I thought about all the times I had gone out, regardless of being aware that I shouldn’t; I thought of all the people I had interacted with and how ashamed I’d me if I would have to call them; I thought of what I could potentially be putting my parents through because they have underlying conditions (diabetes and asthma). After a few days on antibiotics I was alright, but this was a wakeup call and my Ballet Folklórico project came to pause. Then Fourth of July hit, and San Antonio really milked the reduced restrictions. In the following weeks, San Antonio saw a spike in COVID-19 and the city promptly regressed back to prior restrictions. I cancelled my gym membership, my family cancelled our annual trip to the beach, and abstained from interacting with some friends and family. My household became a little blue; I felt a mixture of shame, fear, and frustration (towards myself and the state of Texas). As a public historian, I felt like I failed the community I serve by acting in my self-interests. Public historians share a larger responsibility to treat out community justly and with respect. However, I chose to contribute to the problem that I knew was still there; I gave in to my selfish desire for “normalcy” and potentially put my community partners at risk. Luckily, neither of us (myself, Bonnie & Mark, nor my camera man) have experienced any COVID-19 symptoms following our interviews nor up until now. Throughout the rest of the summer, all of the oral histories I conducted for my capstone were done via Zoom. My project was slowly transitioning to become a digital project, but I’ve come to see this as a strength and necessary change. It does not seem like Texas will have this virus completely under control, and many individuals will be hesitant to interact physically or outside their homes. Creating something digital will meet the needs of individuals while still taking precautions, as well as be more accessible to other researchers beyond San Antonio. COVID had made me acquaint myself with advanced-ish technology that will make all my projects throughout my career more accessible and therefore more equitable -
2020-07-02
Article on the Shaw Memorial Installation
Article from the Boston Globe covering the exhibit installation that has been placed on fencing surrounding the Memorial to the Massachusetts 54th Regiment, which serves as the starting point for the Black Heritage Trail. The exhibit covers the history and significance of the regiment, and includes pictures of primary sources related to volunteers. Outdoor exhibitions carry special importance during the time of the CoVid-19 pandemic, as they offer opportunities for the public to continue to interact with history even as museums remain inaccessible.