Racism in the time of a pandemic: Living with twin public health crises
For the past 8 months, the world has been living in varying states of a global pandemic and public health emergency. The stress test brought about by COVID19 has illustrated in heartbreaking scale, the inadequacy of our public health infrastructure, our economy’s vulnerabilities, and the jarring injustice of our constructed social order. Along with the ever-present threat to individuals and communities that the coronavirus has unleashed, eyes are being opened to the centuries-long violence against the lives of Black, indigenous and people of color (BIPOC) individuals and communities in the US. Particularly regarding the violent and unrelenting assault on Black lives, people and organizations across the country seem to finally be acknowledging the cruel reality. Dozens of cities and states have joined their voices in declaring the toxic system of racism a public health crisis.
These declarations follow years of the public health sector framing racism as a key structural determinant of health, identifying the various ways in which white supremacy damages both the individual lives of people of color and our collective health and socio-economic wellbeing. Naming racism a public health crisis is not just a symbolic gesture; by identifying it as such, we frame it as a preventable issue that can and must be confronted in a cross-sector, coordinated, systemic and informed manner. Identifying racism as a public health crisis means we are collectively called upon to prevent its manifestations, mitigate its consequences and, ultimately, dismantle it through the creation of new and sustainable systems.
Viewing racism through a public health lens
The essential public health functions can be viewed through a cycle of three phases: assessment, policy development, and assurance (https://www.cdc.gov/publichealthgateway/publichealthservices/essentialhealthservices.html ). The first phase involves identifying, naming and understanding the issue. For the second phase, we have to use tools we know work and develop new tools to replace those that don’t. Assurance in this case means making sure that the necessary resources are allocated and that the impact of the policies and other interventions are as intended. This series of steps has to repeated again and again, addressing the problem at increasingly deeper levels It has taken us hundreds of years to build a resilient racist system and it will take ongoing work to replace it with a system that is just, serves and protects us all, and enables us and the world around us to heal. The Sewall Foundation understands that this is long-term work, and together with partners in many sectors, this is the work we are committed to doing, for as long as it takes.
Racism
What do we mean when we use the word racism? There has been a growing understanding that the reality in the US requires that we shift our understanding of racism as something that happens at the individual level and is visible and obvious, to a broader and more accurate definition that speaks to the systemic nature of racism in the US, prompting even the Merriam-Webster dictionary to acknowledge the need to update its definition.
As stated by Dismantling Racism Works, “[R]acism involves one group having the power to carry out systematic discrimination through the institutional policies and practices of the society and by shaping the cultural beliefs and values that support those racist policies and practices.” In other words:
“Racism = race prejudice + social and institutional power
Racism = a system of advantage based on race
Racism = a system of oppression based on race
Racism = a white supremacy system.”
Racial disparities are the predictable consequences of racist systems
One way we can gauge structural racism is by looking at preventable disparities by race. We assume that in a fair and just system, we would not have dramatic differences in outcomes once we control for things that cannot be prevented. At the juncture of these twin public health pandemics, Maine is home to the worst racial disparities in COVID 19’s impact on our communities. One in 4 COVID 19 cases in Maine are Black and African American Mainers despite the fact that only 1 in 60 people in Maine are Black or African American. One in 3 COVID 19 cases are BIPOC, even though only 1 in 20 of Maine’s population is BIPOC. These are not the outcomes of a fair and just system, nor are they isolated incidences of disparate outcomes.
The pandemic has pulled the curtain on long-standing racial disparities in Maine. Black, indigenous and people of color in Maine suffer disproportionately from poverty; from unmet health care needs due to cost; from criminal justice system involvement and harsher treatment at every stage; and from school suspensions, among others. BIPOC in Maine are more likely to be deemed essential workers and to receive lower hourly wages; to have lower rates of business ownership and lower rates of home ownership; and to have lower representation in local and state government, in leadership roles in nonprofits and in philanthropy. These patterns of injustice cannot be explained by Maine’s demographics, but we may find roots to today’s outcomes in our history.
Our history is how we got here
In working to address and dismantle racism, we must contend with the context of what got us to where we are today. Part of this reckoning includes recognizing that the history of Maine includes:
violent displacement, taking of lands and natural resources from Wabanaki people
the systemic separation of Wabanaki children from their families by Maine’s child welfare system
the destruction of a Black and mixed-race community on Malaga Island
the power and influence of the Ku Klux Klan in Maine politics in the 1920s
policies within the last decade that deny basic safety net benefits (such as Medicaid and food stamps) to legally present immigrants
ongoing invisibilizing of African American people in Maine
and, painfully, many more than these.
These historical roots have created conditions that, by default or by design, put people of color at extreme disadvantage and suffering. This beautiful state we all love has a painful history of racism we must acknowledge and address. Just as these historical facts and current day outcomes are not general but specific to communities of color, so must our approaches to address them be targeted. We must face racism with all the tools and unwavering conviction we can collectively muster. In doing so, let us remember that Maine has experience in leading ahead of other states in reckoning with its reality, an example being the Maine Wabanaki-State Child Welfare Truth and Reconciliation Commission and its truth-seeking process.
EBSF recognizes philanthropy’s roots in white supremacist systems and knows we have a long way to go to be able to claim anti-racist practices. We’ve taken some steps to more faithfully live into our mission and are grateful for the vision of our Board of directors in approving an increase in our annual pay-out, increasing our 2020 budget by about $3 million to allow us to more adequately respond to existing needs and opportunities amidst these twin public health pandemics. In increasing our annual budget, we committed to allocation goals that prioritize BIPOC-led and -serving organizations, as well as prioritizing systems-change through support for policy, advocacy and communications and support for collaborative and transformative work.
The pandemic has sharpened our thinking and clarified our priorities (and those of many of our partners) in powerful ways. We understand that the work of transforming unjust systems will take time, patience, perseverance and substantial internal effort. We see an opportunity to truly bring our values to bare in supporting transformational work that can withstand the forces of habit and concentrated power. We understand that this requires deep investment, sustained attention, intentionality and discipline. It requires thinking and acting outside of our comfort zone and carrying the weight that we—as a privileged organization in a privileged sector, can and should carry for our communities in Maine.
Our work must also meet the disproportionate impact that the pandemic is having on communities of color in Maine because of generations and centuries of racist policies and structures. Race neutral approaches are not only not good enough, they are, in fact, contributing to racialized outcomes. We believe that a race-forward, or race-explicit, approach that acknowledges the history and present-day context of race in Maine is necessary. We believe our transformation must address both COVID 19’s health and economic impact and the pandemic of racism if we are to succeed in supporting and pushing for sustainable change.
As we think about a future for our state that is healthy, sustainable and just, we acknowledge that the communities we work for in Maine are not starting from the same place. We must recognize that EBSF’s goal of improving the wellbeing of communities, animals and the environment in Maine can only be achieved if we employ targeted approaches to meet the needs and respond to the opportunities that specific populations, communities and sectors have in this particularly dire time of need and injustice.
In re-affirming our commitment made on June 2020 that Black lives matter, we join the many organizations, cities and states in declaring that racism is a public health crises and that none of us can be free until all of us are free.