尋找一個叫做家的地方
janey7875我訪問到的阿嬤也有在高度人力密集的產業中工作過,如餐飲、紡織等等,反映了當代大環境中原民來到都市的處境。都市原民作為台灣產業發展的推手之一,卻無法擁有安身立命的家,而被迫在各處流浪,直到近代才開啟了與政府溝通的橋樑,卻依然有種種難題需要克服。
我訪問到的阿嬤也有在高度人力密集的產業中工作過,如餐飲、紡織等等,反映了當代大環境中原民來到都市的處境。都市原民作為台灣產業發展的推手之一,卻無法擁有安身立命的家,而被迫在各處流浪,直到近代才開啟了與政府溝通的橋樑,卻依然有種種難題需要克服。
Published in May 2021, amid the coronavirus pandemic where in-person community workshops and meetings turned into weekly virtual meetings.
-> Authors:
Shahir Masri: Department of Environmental and Occupational Health, Program in Public Health, University of California, Irvine; air pollution scientist.
Alana M. W. LeBrón: Department of Health, Society, and Behavior, University of California, Irvine; Assistant Professor, Chicano/Latino Studies; Interests: structural racism and health, health of Latina/o communities, community-based participatory research.
Michael D. Logue: Department of Chicano/Latino Studies, University of California, Irvine
Enrique Valencia: Orange County Environmental Justice, Santa Ana
Abel Ruiz: Jóvenes Cultivando Cambios, Santa Ana; CRECE Urban Farming Cooperative member
Abigail Reyes: Community Resilience, University of California, Irvine
Jun Wu: Department of Environmental and Occupational Health, Program in Public Health, University of California, Irvine
This article was published in 2022 in England. This is amid the coronavirus pandemic and after the populist influence of Trump’s fake news politics around the world. With populist leaders propagating their own version of post-truths in India, Russia, Turkey, and Brazil. These leaders have incited a new wave of climate change deniers while political conflicts and environmental vulnerabilities worsen worldwide.
At the time of the article, Trump had defunded environmental protection and pulled the USA from the Paris agreement - although, since then, Biden has proposed other plans on environmental justice, and the US has rejoined the Paris agreement -, Brexit had threatened to derail environmental regulation - still remains an issue -, and Brazil’s Bolsonaro had opened vast tracts of Amozonian forest for permanent exploitation - still remains an issue.
Lee argues that EJ practice has long stagnated over an inability to properly define the concept of disproportionate (environmental and public health) impacts, but that national conversations on system racism and the development of EJ mapping tools have improved his outlook on the potential for better application of the concept of disproportionate impact. Lee identifies mapping tools (e.g. CalEnviroScreen) as a pathway for empirically based and analytically rigorous articulation and analysis of disproportionate impacts that are linked to systemic racism.
In describing the scope and nature of application of mapping tools, Baker highlights the concept of cumulative impacts (the concentration of multiple environmental, public health, and social stressors), the importance of public participation (e.g. Hoffman’s community science model), the role of redlining in creating disproportionate vulnerabilities, and the importance of integrating research into decision making processes.
Baker ultimately argues that mapping tools offer a promising opportunity for integrating research into policy decision making as part of a second generation of EJ practice. Key areas that Lee identifies as important to the continued development of more effective EJ practice include: identifying good models for quantitative studies and analysis, assembling a spectrum of different integrative approaches (to fit different contexts), connecting EJ research to policy implications, and being attentive to historical contexts and processes that produce/reproduce structural inequities.
In the article, the authors address visualizations of COVID cases, including related satellite mages of air pollution in Southern California and China (generated by NASA/ESA) as well as of mass graves in Iran.
First, they provide basic framing of how to critically read air pollution satellite imagery. Connections between COVID-19 measures and improvements in air pollution are not identifiable in a straightforward way.
"Figure 1a, for instance, uses bright magenta to indicate greater concentrations of nitrogen dioxide and light blue to signify cleaner air. However, such color choices can be misleading: there is no material correlation between nitrogen dioxide and the color magenta; and reduced traces of this chemical do not turn the sky a paler shade of blue. [...] color-coding selections imply, satellite images are not just scientific; they are cultural as well."
Second, they point out the paradox role of satellite imagery to account for the inequitable impact of COVID-19
"satellite image, from a US satellite operator, locates pandemic “excesses” in an Iranian “elsewhere.” But this is an increasingly deceptive proposition, given that the United States has one of the highest COVID-19 per capita transmission and fatality rates in the world."
Third, they draw comparisons between the "hockey stick" visualization of global Climate Change and the various "curves" used to display COVID-19 developments:
From a disaster media perspective, the film’s global warming graph depicts a dramatic climate shift, projects imminent catastrophe, and issues a world warning. Its circulation in global media culture for the past fifteen years potentially informs the ways people are engaging now with similar-looking charts of coronavirus death and illness. Historically, news media have relied on sensationalistic photos of human suffering to convey a sense of disaster, but in the age of big data and the current pandemic, numbers speak, and graphs and curves tend to dominate the mediascape. In both cases, scientific experts and publics must grapple with how these graphs make meaning, what datasets they rely upon, and how these media come to stand in for highly complex conditions.
Finally, they remark that COVID-19 visualizations are always incomplete - because of lack of testing and withholding of data - but also because stories of e.g. workers are missing. They reference the cover of the New York Times (May 24, 2020) that displayed the names of 100,000 people who had died from COVID.