Items

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  2020-06-09

  JBS Meatpacking Plant Outbreak

  I wanted to include these news articles about an event that happened in my community. 287 workers at JBS meatpacking plant tested positive for COVID-19 at the beginning of Summer 2020. I am ~somewhat~ familiar with this meatpacking plant. When I attended Mountain Crest High School in Hyrum, I ran cross country and one of our running routes required us to pass this building. I usually did not like this route because the smell combined with running often made me nauseous. I believe it was bought or acquired since my running days by JBS because we used to refer to this place as “Miller’s”. Fast forward about nine years later when these news articles were published. This was the first huge outbreak in Cache Valley. It took some time before COVID-19 hit Northern Utah. Yeah, I think we had a few cases here and there. But it always felt “manageable” to me before this event. But with this outbreak, I began feeling unsafe in my corner of the world. I was especially upset at the injustice of this situation because most of the workers at JBS were Hispanic/Latinx. It felt like no measures, like paid leave or free testing services, were being taken to protect these workers. According to a Bear River Health Department report for June 1, 2020, Hispanic/Latinx accounted for more than 40% of COVID cases. Yet, only about 10% of the population here is Hispanic/Latinx. I strongly feel that this is because of JBS. I feel frustrated living here in Utah during the pandemic. So many people do not care about the situation we are in. Meanwhile, there are people who make sacrifices by working on the “front lines”. For the Hispanic/Latinx community in Cache Valley, it doesn’t feel like a voluntary sacrifice. But rather, another example of unfair systemic racism. Meanwhile, it seems so trivial and unjust that my community still insisted on having a county fair and little league baseball this year. I understand the economic consequences and reasons why people are hesitant to take precautions in certain situations. It is complicated and we don’t really have a great safety net for people in America. That being said, I hate seeing the flippant attitudes while people are literally dying. This weekend, we reached a record spike in COVID cases in Utah. And Election Day is this week. I feel so anxious all the time. And I am trying to reach for some peace wherever I can find it. I really hope that soon we will start taking this pandemic seriously.
• 
  2020-10-21

  Arumi Ortiz Oral History, 2020/10/21

  This is an oral history with Arumi Ortiz conducted by Victoria Villaseñor. Arumi was born in Veracruz, Mexico and moved to Tulsa, Oklahoma when she was 15 years old. Arumi is now a senior at St. Mary's University.
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  2020-06-03

  Tweets from San Antonio's mayor Ron Nirenberg throughout June, 2020

  These series of images are tweets from or about San Antonio mayor Ron Nirenberg and his administration's response to COVID-19 and the social justice movement triggered by the murder of George Floyd throughout the month of June. These images illustrate the way local government mobilized to disperse political, economic, and medical information through social media. These also give insight into how the Mayor and his administration participated in the dialogue about systemic racism in San Antonio and across the United States. Information such as public and private programs, COVID-19 case statistics , protests, warnings to remain vigilant amid the reopening of the state, and where to get tested for COVID.
• 
  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
• 
  2020-04-08

  Public Street art, New Jersey, USA

  A great piece of modern art shared by the painter with the public and for the neighborhood in the midst of the pandemic. It’s a self-portrait, presumably, of the painter, showing him/her/they at work with with paint and brushes. It gives two messages: one, in the portrait, copy me and wear a mask to protect yourself and us and 2) the text, hang in there, meaning keep going, have faith in yourself, be strong, or similar friendly and uplifting sentiments. It’s a very common phrase in US late 20thc-2020 and we use it with friends. So it too, is advice, to try to stay emotionally well, and almost a hug. This is from NJ at the moment that it it is clear that New York City is the epicenter of suffering and death due to covid19 in the US and that means NJ because so many work in NYC. My friend saw it as she took a walk outside alone while “social distancing” and probably wearing a scarf over her face or a homemade mask. It’s great because the artist shared his/her/their work and feelings and it does make my friend in NJ and her friends all over and mine, happier. I am grateful for it.