Sonoma County is supported by a working class under siege 

No one deserves to be trapped in a caste system that denies them a life of dignity. 

By Dmitra Smith | Sun Personal

In 2012, the groundbreaking Portrait of Sonoma told us what we already knew: people’s life expectancy, education, and income levels are determined by their zip codes, with the two most impacted areas being Southwest Santa Rosa and Sonoma Valley. 

It should be clear by now, even for those who don’t like to admit it, that the economy of the entire county is supported by working class people from low income, immigrant, and undocumented communities.

These communities already deal with food insecurity, unemployment, labor exploitation, housing insecurity, transportation issues, lack of access to health care, student achievement gaps, and more when there isn’t a global pandemic. Many also have to constantly manage a fear of deportation on top of all of that, even though they pay dearly into a system which does not represent them. There is no greater injustice.

With regard to farmworkers, this is a community with much cultural pride, strong family ties, and incredible resilience. They have had to rely on each other and a few individuals whom they trust are in alignment with the people, not the political power structure in the Valley.

I take offense at the tired “who is going to pick the grapes” argument. I refuse to participate in a narrative that limits people’s lives to an existence defined by chronic poverty, while wealthy land and business owners reap the profits of their labor for an eternity.  

That sounds a lot like the plantation structure that created this country’s economic system, ensuring there was no exit, no path to agency or generational wealth for African Americans. Every human being has dreams, goals, and special gifts the world needs. No one deserves to be trapped in a caste system that denies them a life of dignity.  It’s clear that this county has also profited on the backs of people whose labor is the tangible foundation behind the words “Agriculture, Industry, and Recreation” on its official seal.

Once Covid-19 became a reality, those of us working to serve frontline communities sprang into action.  Our fears that the painful mistakes of the Tubbs and Kincaid fires would be repeated were well founded. We’ve seen improvements to Spanish language information and a push to distribute much needed food, but Sonoma County has not made tangible attempts to create institutional change. We’ve not focused  on equity and divestment from conditions of poverty.

With regard to unsheltered folks, that population alone has the ability to overwhelm our current hospital system without immediate steps to prevent outbreaks, provide shelter and health care.  Most renters are wondering if they too might become homeless, when the county eviction moratorium ordinance expires within 60 days of the stay-at-home order being lifted and they’re expected to pay back rent to landlords who have not offered assistance. A $1,200 stimulus check is a joke, and while I know everyone can use it, it doesn’t begin to cover one month’s rent for most people, let alone three or four. Health care and other essential workers are going to work daily, putting their own lives on the line without proper PPE from employers who make millions. 

It’s one big plantation.

I keep hearing that California’s food supply chain is strong. To that I say: it is only as strong as the supportive resources for the people who grow, harvest, deliver, and sell the food we all need to survive.  Covid-19 presents a bittersweet irony to those of us who have been fighting for working people, as we watch the shock and awe rippling around us nationwide, in every community. Many of us have become so complacent in our comfort, so dependent on a low income labor force made up largely of people of color, we’ve allowed ourselves to believe their very existence must be defined by lifelong service without upward mobility. We didn’t even realize how dependent we were on the invisible lives that allow ours to function. It’s like an addiction. Can you see these lives now? They are all around us, and we cannot survive without them.

We can either watch in horror as everything falls apart, or we can look at this as an opportunity to rebuild the world. We can create a community that values each human life equally, that pays living wages, that divests from the crushing plantation system that defines Sonoma County’s vineyards, and that makes health care available to all. We can create a community that insists on diverse representation in political office, on boards, and in organizations, one that refuses to center insular whiteness, money, and power at the expense of all.

I believe it is not simply the right thing to do. I believe it’s the only way we will survive. The old adage “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” comes to mind. This system is clearly broke. How can we fix it, together? The first step is to have voices at the table that weren’t invited to the party. Now is the time to rebuild the world. Covid-19 is the enemy, but so is the way we run our economy and the society at large. It also takes lives without mercy, and this is a curve we’ve needed to flatten for a long time.