Your Independent Journal from the Heartland
(Vea la versión en español a continuación.)
In my book on violence, “Yolqui: A Warrior Summoned from the Spirit World,” a PhD student at the University of Arizona, Michelle Rascon Canales, contributed an essay: “‘Brokenheartedness’ or Systematic Killings: Testimonios and Sequelae Violence.” By doing so, she introduces the reader to a concept I had always known and lived but was unaware of its name: Sequelae violence. It might also be referred to as collateral violence or damage.
Something similar has been happening amid the COVID-19 crisis. It becomes clear when one examines the concept and rationale for contact tracing. One person is infected and the objective is to find out who the person recently came into contact with because chances are likely that they may have also been infected, especially if the contact took place in a large group indoors. The transmission often spreads among those closest to the person infected, who could also go on to infect those closest to them, and on and on.
Sequelae violence works differently, but yet, similar. One person gets killed or brutalized [in this case by law enforcement, though it is also true in the thousands of cases involving missing and murdered Indigenous, African American and Migrant women], and it affects those closest to them. But unlike the virus, the effects of those that survive, or upon those closest to the victim, can result not simply in PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) but it can also be permanent. In many cases, such violence can affect entire peoples and communities and result in intergenerational trauma.
I see the effect of this sequelae violence on a daily basis among what are referred to as “impacted families” or survivors. They see themselves as members of a family they didn’t choose to be a part of, nor one they want to be a part of. When they step forward, they go from being traumatically scarred victims, to fierce warriors for justice. And yet, despite becoming the best representatives in this fight for justice, they often remain traumatically affected, especially because many of them often have to relive those traumas, especially before an indifferent or hostile judicial system, or when they have to continually speak in public.
As both pandemics simultaneously play out, they are actually having an even wider impact than most people know. According to the Centers for Disease Control, the Indigenous-Black-Brown communities of this nation are being especially hit hard by both C-19. Also, unbeknownst to the general public, the police abuse pandemic is also hitting these same communities hard. This in the midst of a shameful presidential race in which people of color are also being scapegoated for the nation’s major problems – grotesquely fueled by a race-baiting and violence-stoking and producing president – which has created “the perfect storm,” in effect, creating a third pandemic. This includes the scapegoating of Chinese people in this country for the spread of C-19, resulting in increased hate crimes against Asian peoples.
We know the president’s M-O is to stir up racial divisions and angst in this country. Less known is that the racial problems extend beyond the Black-White racial rift we see nationally in the daily news.
This fact and this idea of sequelae violence has been on my mind because this country’s comunidad Mexicana/Chicana and Latina, recently commemorated the 50th anniversary of a most tragic event in their history; on Aug 29, 1970, many thousands of protesters against the Vietnam War, were violently attacked by Los Angeles Sheriff’s deputies and Los Angeles Police Department officers in East L.A., resulting in three deaths. Fifty years ago, represents several generations ago and yet for many, that memory is as alive today as it was then. To this community, this day is akin in significance to the “Bloody Sunday” attack of Black protestors in Selma, Ala., on March 7, 1965.
The outrage remains. The most notable aspect of that day was the killing of journalist Ruben Salazar. And to this day, the question remains; was he killed accidentally or was he intentionally assassinated? Most of my friends from that era vote: assassination. VP candidate Kamala Harris recently weighed in on the topic: “Today we remember and honor the life of Ruben Salazar who was a voice for the Chicano movement, an advocate for civil rights, and a journalist dedicated to truth. His life was taken too soon and his legacy lives on in the voices of those standing up and marching for justice.”
Two things of note: 1) A Biden/Harris administration, in effect, has committed to reopening an investigation into Salazar’s death. We should expect no less. And 2) A Biden/Harris administration should also launch an investigation into the systemic police violence that affects the three above-named communities; it is at a crisis level and these communities can no longer afford to be silenced and invisibilized.
Roberto Dr. Cintli Rodriguez is an associate professor at the University of Arizona Mexican American Studies and is the author of several books, including “Our Sacred Maiz is Our Mother” (2014) and “Yolqui: A Warrior Summoned from the Spirit World” (2019). Email XColumn@gmail.com.
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