Analyze

In response to multiple concerns about water quality expressed by residents, EJCAN launched a water quality testing initiative with university-based collaborators from UNC Chapel Hill and Appalachian State University. Threats to water include but are not limited to industrialized agriculture. Industrialized hog feces contain pathogens, heavy metals, and antibiotic-resistant bacteria that growers store in large, open pit lagoons (Grant 1999; Wing et al. 2008; Blanchette 2019; Christenson et al. 2022). When operators spray the waste onto nearby fields, they also release air and waterborne contaminants. Scholars have linked airborne emissions from industrial hog operations to respiratory dysfunction, mood disorders, compromised immune function, anemia, kidney disease, tuberculosis, and low birth weight (Wing et al. 2000; Kravchenko et al. 2018; Guidry et al. 2018). Moreover, the odor is noxious, causing nausea, embarrassment, disorientation, and social loss in cultural continuity as people cease culturally meaningful practices like gardening, going for walks, or gathering outside to share food (Herring 2014; Blanchette 2019). The impacts to water include contamination, harmful algal blooms, fish kills, and eutrophication in rivers and estuaries, especially when hurricanes flood the inner coastal plains with industrialized animal waste (Wing et al. 2000; Wing et al. 2008; NCCN 2021; Emanuel 2018; Christenson et al. 2022). Access to water infrastructure in Sampson County is highly uneven, and residents have been advocating for improved access for more than a decade. 

In response to concerns expressed by community members, EJCAN launched a water quality testing initiative with university-based collaborators to increase knoweldge about the impacts of multiple hazards on water. Industrialized hog feces contain pathogens, heavy metals, and antibiotic-resistant bacteria that growers store in large, open pit lagoons (Grant 1999; Wing et al. 2008; Blanchette 2019; Christenson et al. 2022). When operators spray the waste onto nearby fields, they also release air and waterborne contaminants. Scholars have linked airborne emissions from industrial hog operations to respiratory dysfunction, mood disorders, compromised immune function, anemia, kidney disease, tuberculosis, and low birth weight (Wing et al. 2000; Kravchenko et al. 2018; Guidry et al. 2018). Moreover, the odor is noxious, causing nausea, embarrassment, disorientation, and social loss in cultural continuity as people cease culturally meaningful practices like gardening, going for walks, or gathering outside to share food (Herring 2014; Blanchette 2019). The impacts to water include contamination, harmful algal blooms, fish kills, and eutrophication in rivers and estuaries, especially when hurricanes flood the inner coastal plains with industrialized animal waste (Wing et al. 2000; Wing et al. 2008; NCCN 2021; Emanuel 2018; Christenson et al. 2022).Through Sampson County there is uneven access to water quality infrastructure, and residents have been advocating for improved access for water quality for more than a decade.   

I've found myself returning to thinking about/around/within interstitial spaces of care, particularly within hospital settings, interested in how viral activity unsettles the ideas we have around space and boundaries, both biological and infrastructural. In COVID-19 pathology and response, the inbetween, the interstitial, become sites challenge and possibility. With COVID-19, we see an acknowledgment of once forgotten spaces quite obviously, with hospital atria and hallways being reconfigured into patient care spaces, makeshift morgues established in refrigerated trucks, and hospitals spilling out into neighboring streets and parks. More than ever, we see how hospitals are simultaneously bounded and unbounded--the most stable and unstable sites for care. Along this line of thought, what might thinking through hospitals as heterotopia of crisis and deviation afford?

Foucault outlines six principles for heterotopic spaces

The heterotopia is capable of juxtaposing in a single real place several spaces, several sites that are in themselves incompatible

Heterotopias are most often linked to slices in time—which is to say that they open onto what might be termed, for the sake of symmetry, heterochronies. The heterotopia begins to function at full capacity when men arrive at a sort of absolute break with their traditional time. This situation shows us that the cemetery is indeed a highly heterotopic place since, for the individual, the cemetery begins with this strange heterochrony, the loss of life, and with this quasi-eternity in which her permanent lot is dissolution and disappearance.

Heterotopias always presuppose a system of opening and closing that both isolates them and makes them penetrable. In general, the heterotopic site is not freely accessible like a public place. Either the entry is compulsory, as in the case of entering a barracks or a prison, or else the individual has to submit to rites and purifications.

I'm currently based in Troy, NY where I recently completed a PhD in Science and Technology Studies.  I'll soon be living in NYC to attend medical school. I can be reached at amorgan14[at]gmail[dot]com

I've long been interested in the disaster of routine medical care in the U.S. healthcare system. As far as COVID-19 is concerned, I'm particularly interested in how the long-term health impacts of intensive care are conceptualized and communicated (including Post Intensive Care Syndrome (PICS)) and the tensions between acute and chronic illness, broadly. 

How is the aftermath of COVID-19 crisis being imagined in different settings? How is this shaping beliefs, practices, and policies?

As a researcher, I’m interested in the political, ecological, and cultural debates around mosquito-borne diseases and the solutions proposed to mitigate them.

When we received the task, my first impulse was to investigate about the contemporary effects of anthropogenic climate change in mosquito-borne diseases in New Orleans. But I was afraid to make the same mistake that I did in my PhD research. I wrote my PhD proposal while based in the US, more specifically in New England, during the Zika epidemic, and proposed to understand how scientists were studying ecological climate change and mosquitoes in Brazil. However, once I arrived in the country the political climate was a much more pressing issue, with the dismantling of health and scientific institutions.

Thus, after our meeting yesterday, and Jason Ludwig’s reminder that the theme of our Field Campus is the plantation, I decided to focus on how it related to mosquitoes in New Orleans.

The Aedes aegypti mosquito and the yellow fever virus it can transmit are imbricated in the violent histories of settler-colonialism and slavery that define the plantation economy. The mosquito and the virus arrived in the Americas in the same ships that brought enslaved peoples from Africa. The city of New Orleans had its first yellow fever epidemic in 1796, with frequent epidemics happening between 1817 and 1905. What caused New Orleans to be the “City of the Dead,” as Kristin Gupta has indicated, was yellow fever. However, as historian Urmi Engineer Willoughby points out, the slave trade cannot explain alone the spread and persistance of the disease in the region: "Alterations to the landscape, combined with demographic changes resulting from the rise of sugar production, slavery, and urban growth all contributed to the region’s development as a yellow fever zone." For example, sugar cultivation created ideal conditions for mosquito proliferation because of the extensive landscape alteration and ecological instabilities, including heavy deforestation and the construction of drainage ditches and canals.

Historian Kathryn Olivarius examines how for whites "acclimatization" to the disease played a role in hierarchies with “acclimated” (immune) people at the top and a great mass of “unacclimated” (non-immune) people and how for black enslaved people "who were embodied capital, immunity enhanced the value and safety of that capital for their white owners, strengthening the set of racialized assumptions about the black body bolstering racial slavery."

As I continue to think through these topics, I wonder how both the historical materialities of the plantation and the contemporary anthropogenic changes might be influencing mosquito-borne diseases in New Orleans nowadays? And more, how the regions’ histories of race and class might still be shaping the effects of these diseases and how debates about them are framed?