Survival by ZIP Code
Public Health Preordained by Urban Planning
Written by Reanna Tong, Forward by Omeed Manocheri
“In 1963 the Post Office Department introduced and vigorously promoted the use of the Zone Improvement Plan (ZIP) Code. The code was originally intended to allow mail sorting methods to be automated but ended up creating unimagined socio-economic benefits as an organizing and enabling device.” Absent from this introduction to “The Untold Story of the ZIP Code,” a 34-page document from the U.S. Postal Service Office of Inspector General, is a reconciliation of the detriments the “digitization” of surface space has brought upon socially and economically marginalized communities in the United States. These communities, primarily composed of people of color, repeatedly face disproportionate impact predicated by the structural racism inherent in the built environment they occupy and experience. From being forced to live in areas known to be affected by the environmental hazards caused by climate change to the de facto substandard living conditions that aided the rapid spread and elongated proliferation of COVID-19. To better understand how to address this injustice, it is necessary to examine the underlying issues these communities face long before a singular “hazard” becomes an obvious problem.
The SF Urban Film Fest (SFUFF), in partnership with guest curator Jamon Franklin and with moderation provided by Katherine Schaff of the Berkeley Media Studies Group, presented two films followed by a panel discussion to explore community-based solutions around climate justice and public health in the context of urban planning and equity. The panel consisted of Judith Helfand, Producer/Director of Cooked: Survival By Zip Code; Pancho Argüelles, Executive Director of Living Hope Wheelchair Association in Houston, Texas; Berta Hernández, Director of Family Services at Instituto Familiar de Raza; and Dr. Anthony B. Iton, a Doctor of Public Health, currently serving as Senior Vice President of Healthy Communities and previously the County Health Officer for the Alameda Public Health Department.
In a first for the SFUFF, audience members had access to the program’s films in advance of the discussion through the SF Urban Film Fest’s Video-On-Demand (VOD) rental platform. In addition, the panel discussion was live-streamed to audiences on Facebook and YouTube.
Judith Helfand’s film Cooked: Survival by Zip Code tells the story of the tragic 1995 Chicago heat wave, the most traumatic in U.S. history, in which 739 citizens died over the course of just a single week; most of them poor, elderly, and African American. Cooked is a story about life, death, and the politics of crisis in an American city that asks the question: Was this a one-time tragedy or an appalling trend? Through the film, Helfand explores the question of whether we can reframe disaster and disaster preparedness by channeling deep investments into communities that are going to be hurt the most. She comments during the panel discussion that she hopes that the film can better support engagement and conversations around disasters. Panelist Pancho Argüelles — Executive Director of Living Hope Wheelchair Association in Houston, Texas — had recently responded to the dire impacts of record cold temperatures and winter storms hitting Texas, said the film was hard to watch. However, the film was especially relevant for him and the people that he works with. For them, disasters and environmental hazards are not issues that are up for debate — they are facts of life.
Before It Was Them Now It’s Us
Directed by Gabrielle Lurie, Manjula Varghese
When the coronavirus hit San Francisco’s Bayview, it attacked the heart of the historically black neighborhood: the elders. The virus has exploited a precious sense of community in neighborhoods underserved by health care, including the Bayview. The neighborhood’s strength lies in how generations have stuck together, at parties, churches and funerals. Now, those close ties have become a vulnerability. Bayview residents share how COVID-19 has affected their lives.
When asked what does it mean when we talk about “reframing disaster and disaster preparedness?” Argüelles introduced us to the idea of “disaster justice.” Disaster justice “is rooted in our dignity and the fact that we have a right to live a life of abundance — to be safe.” This new definition is to eliminate the unjust impact of disasters and accelerate recovery.
Argüelles’s and Berta Hernández’s real-life response work are forms of disaster justice: removing barriers to accessing relief and resources. For people of color and those living with disabilities, the barriers are many: society is designed and maintained to serve non-disabled people, little to no money to buy food, and still invisible while keeping cities running. The impacts of COVID-19 exacerbated these circumstances, especially for Latinx, Hispanic, monolingual immigrants. Yet, even as this became evident, communities of color and immigrants continue to be ignored or left behind. Argüelles shared that he believes the reason for this neglect stems from a long tradition of colonialism in the United States and a tendency to always treat the “other” with suspicion.
In Argüelles’s work, community organizations from all over the country gather for monthly mutual training. Building communities and community power are crucial to acknowledging shared human dignity and people’s right to live all the time, especially during disasters. We are called to see that the impacts and effects of natural disasters are implications of underlying systemic disasters. Dr. Tony Iton’s example here was the disparate impact of the Chicago heat wave: why did two very similar neighborhoods have such different outcomes? Two things have to happen to achieve similar resiliency outcomes: 1) building social capital and 2) addressing “policy violence.”
Improving public health is also a matter of undoing policy violence.
Dr. Iton shared that social capital determines the success of a community to prepare for, respond to, and recover from disasters. Social capital is the connectedness among people in their communities and neighborhoods. Despite the history of redlining and American apartheid in some Black neighborhoods, social capital can power their resiliency and ability to protect themselves. This was true during the Chicago heat wave and has rung true during the California wildfires, Hurricane Katrina, Superstorm Sandy, and countless other disasters.
But, Dr. Iton also shared that social capital can mean very little when “policy violence” persists. Policy violence is the opposite of disaster justice. Policy violence is the absence of policy in the face of abject need — when we know it’s needed. For example, we knowingly placed immigrants in harm’s way during the COVID-19 pandemic while asking that they continue protecting us and keep our cities functioning. Therefore, improving public health is also a matter of undoing policy violence.
With that, the panelists called us to action on how we could help build social capital and undo policy violence:
- Invest in and support anchor community institutions. The organizations that are on the ground and doing the work need your support. This honors the wisdom of those who have been experiencing injustices. These institutions are often the community links to food justice, land justice, land reclamation, housing, and public education.
- Build and invest in our social contracts. We must share vulnerability and stand in solidarity in the wake of disasters. Take people out of harm’s way by ensuring undocumented workers are protected, sick leave is offered, and essential things like housing are provided. It is vital to start a dialogue with our legislators and ask for these policy changes.
- Take care of yourself. The most important tool is you. Remember that what we do alone may not be enough, but we as individuals are enough. Communicate this to others.
Lastly, we have to have hope. We got here because our ancestors fought and won.
Watch the panel discussion:
This event took place on February 15, 2021 and was curated by SF Urban Film Fest Executive Director Fay Darmawi and guest curator Jamon Franklin. For more information about the SF Urban Film Fest, visit our website.
