Update from Oakland that I posted to that treacherous social media site run by Russian bots ;). I’m only ~*still*~ on Facebook because it is the primary way I connect and communicate with my community in the Town. This has especially been true these last few months. We’ve experienced covid-19 shelter-in-place (SIP) since mid-March, and had the calls to stay home even earlier.
The first calls to action from my neighborhood leaders were to donate as many cloth masks as possible to help prevent covid-19 from spreading amongst our unhoused neighbors, against the advice of the government who aggressively noted that facial coverings were not necessary at the time. Neighbors were still sewing up a storm – making them for anyone who needed – and arranging pickup and drop off for those without transportation. In the first days of SIP I walked to our corner restaurant to purchase some to-go grocery essentials, a pivot many restaurants and bodegas made quickly here, and witnessed one woman shame another for wearing a mask (“It’s not like they do anything” she scoffed, to someone who was supposedly a friend of hers). I was wary.
But then there were the offers of grocery runs, as there were so many persons with compromised immune systems stuck in their homes, fearful to leave, and the grocery delivery queues several weeks out as demand grew. Many neighbors picked up necessities for their community and helped keep them fed. Offers of toilet paper went around from people who had a stockpile. Then there were (and still are) folks who experienced a lapse in income between losing their paycheck to covid-19 shutdowns and receiving their unemployment benefits. There were issues with the online systems and certain types of employment didn’t “count” at the time. They bravely asked their community for help, something that is extremely difficult to do, and food and other necessities were delivered, no questions asked.
Ahmaud Arbery and Breonna Taylor and George Floyd were murdered, among countless other Black women and men, and too many weeks after each murder, there was national attention. Our community marched and those that couldn’t donated or made phone calls. Those that marched were met with what seemed like non-stop tear gas and flash grenades, affecting air quality for those attending (out of the hundreds of people I witnessed, every single person was wearing a mask, with multiples to give to others) AND threatening the air of our unhoused neighbors. A county and city curfew followed quickly and hundreds of people gathered in downtown Oakland’s Oscar Grant plaza for a peaceful anti-curfew protest – after curfew. Friends who had a realistic fear of Covid-spread due to tear gas and police brutality went anyway, and attended what was a catalyst for the end of curfew. My check-ins with those attending were responded to with videos of speeches and eventually dancing to Mac Dre.
A few weeks later there was a youth protest at Lake Merritt, where we got to hear the voices of today’s youth, whom I for one am eager to see take on social justice, politics, climate change, etc. A yoga-teacher friend led the crowd through some breath-work and the collective breaths that followed have been the most powerful memory for me thus far in this time of a total assault on breathing freely (something that CAN be done while wearing a mask). This protest also ended with a dance party. This time when Mac Dre came on, I cried, because of how tense everyone was, some for actual decades, and so to see fellow humans move freely with joy in a time of pain moved me.
Fourth of July, while contentiously celebrated on Ohlone occupied land, brought weeks of never-ending fireworks. While this is relatively normal for Oakland (ask my parents) this year seemed especially wild. When the fourth finally came there was a circulating panoramic video of fireworks lighting off all over the Town. We were in awe, and also frustrated for our poor dogs, at the show. But it’s hard to balance those feelings with fear of fires. Though unrelated to the fireworks, there were several house-fires in our neighborhood and people lost everything….
Things quieted a bit as summer took hold and we saw smaller marches and a lot of attendance at virtual city council meetings to end police presence in schools, among other issues. The community building took on a more-steady pace, clearly setting in for the long haul. “In search of boxes” posts became daily asks as families that had been living here for years decided to, or were forced to in some cases, relocate. Driving to my old office I passed the Alameda County Community Food Bank and seeing the number of cars increase and begin to backup onto I-880 ramps became routine. Food insecurity was and is growing larger by the day. But free-food fridges and carts began to pop-up all over the city. A neighbor started a sliding scale produce box where people could pay what they could afford for produce. Some would pay $30 so that others didn’t have to pay any. Any food leftover they drop at a local free-food location in the neighborhood. Our favorite pho spot in this neighborhood put out a free food cart, that included flowers.
Then came the heat wave. Temperatures soared and urgent calls came out to organize regular water drops to our unhoused neighbors. People offered up clean water containers with nozzles so that water access could spread. It is routine to see the ice cream truck go by, followed by the water truck. In taking an afternoon to go to Redwood Regional park, I noticed all the electric fences were setup for the goats to come through and clear out the dry brush, perfect tinder for a forest fire. A large water truck was parked at the entrance, ready for its eventual need.
A week and a half ago I took a trip with a friend to go swimming up North in Lake Berryessa. We wore masks and social-distanced in the 100 degree heat, and as we drove towards the rec area we passed through miles of forest fire damage from previous years. It was extremely hot and dry that day, but having been mainly in our homes for the previous few months, dipping into the water and swimming was an incredible luxury, worth the leeches we plucked off our feet, and the deeply planted seed of fear that it could all burn down at any moment. Which, if you didn’t know, it now it is.
We woke at 4am last Sunday morning – I actually gasped awake out of fear not realizing what was waking me up – lightning streaking across the sky in a way I’ve never seen in my seven years on the West Coast. In fact I’ve never seen lightning at all. The disturbance woke my partner up, and I could hear our dogs at the door clearly knowing something was up. I watched the lightning for awhile as large bursts of wind and hail blew through, thinking of all the dry areas I’d been in the last few weeks. It occurred to me that we’ve been living with a deep nervousness in our bones the last few months, bracing for the next emergency. Calls came from the county for anyone outdoors to find shelter immediately as the dry storm rolled through.
A day later, we smelled the smoke before we knew there were fires. Our community is mostly in the flats, butting up to the Oakland and Berkeley hills and smoothing out to the Bay, so smoke hangs in the air here, even when it’s windy. Though we were over thirty miles from the initial fires it took no time at all for the air quality to become problematic. When we walked outside to water the garden, we noticed ash lightly falling like snow. The next day I realized that there were fires everywhere, almost surrounding us in all directions, including where family members live. I reached out to see how they were doing and found out they had been evacuated the night before. They’re currently safe with family up North, awaiting news on their home.
Our neighborhood message board became urgent with asks for N95 masks as our unhoused neighbors only have cotton cloth face coverings – which offer zero protection from the smoke-filled air. Most of us had already donated any N95s leftover from last year’s fire season to the health professionals who were not getting enough protective gear from their places of work, due to the National shortage. I mailed what I had to my family in NJ, who work in health care and did not have access to N95s by the time they became necessary. Our Oakland city council representative went scouring at local stores for masks and two other community members went to buy out local stores so that 100 or so masks could be distributed by a local community leader.
This weekend we may face more dry lightning which means more potential fires. We’ve talked about getting out of town, trying to head towards clean air and our friends in Omaha but don’t want to clog up the roads for those who are evacuating by immediate necessity. The closest clear air locations are Medford, OR to the North, and as far as Nebraska, to the East, whom are clearly experiencing their own problems with the massive storms from a few weeks ago. We’ve decided to stay put until our presence on the roads isn’t a danger to others. Especially considering we are privileged to be in a home with an air filter and a portable air conditioner. Still it’s not easy and I can both be exhausted by this experience AND have empathy and recognize the more immediate needs of others.
Yesterday we went to the grocery store and in my confusion from the sensory overload of smoke and haze and covid, I couldn’t find the car afterwards. The store has three separate parking lots and I pushed the cart to each before finally remembering I parked on the street. I broke down in tears once I finally found it and got inside. I couldn’t remember after the fact, after covering my face and sobbing, if I had sanitized my hands before doing so. This will be on the back of my mind for the next two weeks. I called one of my best friends and she reiterated similar moments of total confusion. We laughed and it was a balm.
While we wait out the fires and smoke, if such things are possible, I’m trying to figure out ways to stay busy. I’m teaching yoga via zoom to friends all over, checking in with neighbors and the neighborhood message board to help out when needed. Checking in with my friends locally to make sure they’re doing OK with the hazardous air and have access to masks and air filters. Offering rides for those without cars. And honestly, napping a lot.
This is my life in Oakland right now. Everything I’ve written I am personally experiencing. And I say this with love in my heart and empathy for everyone, without trying to incite fear – this may be your town today, it will be your town tomorrow, next week, next year, in five years, in ten years.
I’m writing and sharing this because in a time when I’ve felt really helpless watching people all over this country become or remain complacent…sharing and witnessing the wins, however small, in my local community gives me a lot of hope. Seeing my community show up for one another, show up for those the government continues to fail, wakes me up and spurs me to show up too.
I hope some of this wakes you up. Please look around you, look at your community, look at your town and if you think you like what you see, wake up, because it changes quickly. If you don’t like what you see, pick something and fight for it, and NOT JUST ON THE INTERNET (and yes I know the irony in saying this). Talk to your neighbors. Check in on your community. Share resources.
If you want LESS government, cool, get out of our way while we’re community building, stop cosigning the institutional murders and oppression of Black people, stay out of women’s bodies. If you want MORE government, cool, demand that it serve the constituents, the PEOPLE, BIPOC persons especially, and not big business.
With love from Oakland,
Julianne
itinerant gastronomer 