COVID‐19 and the Marshallese

Abstract

Iọkwe, I'm one of the many poultry workers that haven't been paid. I've worked at Ozark [a poultry factory] in Fayetteville for six months now. Last month, I was feeling sick and coughing so I went to get tested. The results came back positive. I have quarantined since. I haven't gone back to work because I'm still not feeling well. My wife got tested and she was positive too. She has worked at Tyson for almost six years. She is also under quarantine. We're both alone at home trying our best to get better again. It has been very hard because we were both so sick. We called our workplaces and asked them if they would pay us for the weeks that we were quarantined. My workplace told me that I would only get a paycheck for two weeks when I get back to work. Days later, they called me and told me that they were going to terminate me because they needed proof from ER that I'm really sick with COVID-19. I took a pic of my results and sent it to them. Now I thank God I still have my job. But I am still sick and quarantined without a paycheck. My wife has recovered and returned to work, after a month at home. She was only compensated for one week. I'm sad to tell the world that we are living with our son and his family. We moved out of our apartment a few days ago because we didn't have the money to pay our rent and utilities. How would you feel if it was you facing this situation? This is the story of a Marshallese poultry worker in Northwest Arkansas (NWA), USA. Through the summer of 2020, Marshallese and other Pacific Islanders in the USA have been disproportionally affected by COVID-19. Although less than 3% of the NWA population, Marshallese are 65% of the deaths. This contrasts dramatically with Marshallese experiences in the Republic of the Marshall Islands (RMI) itself. Though not without the consequences of economic hardship and empty food stores, the RMI has managed to keep its borders closed and citizens safe. Some might assume, as a result, that some nations really are islands after all—isolated from the rest of the world. However, that perspective overlooks the fluid borders that characterize Pacific Island nations and peoples. It also overlooks how past colonialism has led to emigration that has spread Marshallese communities far beyond their atoll reefs, and how current day labor and neocolonial inequities have led to severe suffering in diasporic communities. While Pacific Island nations dominate the short list of COVID free territories in the world, diasporic Pacific islanders are disproportionately overrepresented in COVID-19 cases and deaths in the USA. Here, we will look briefly at how COVID-19 is affecting the RMI before turning towards some Marshallese communities in continental USA. Using the personal stories of Marshallese affected by COVID-19, we will illustrate how pandemic impacts are unequal, how they are tied to neocolonial policies, and how they leave those impacted worse off than they could possibly have imagined. The stories have been edited for space concerns, and we will leave them unanalyzed and unexplained, choosing instead to let them speak for themselves. All were collected by Albious between June and August 2020 and concern the Marshallese community in Arkansas. On 8 March 2020, shortly after the WHO declared COVID-19 a pandemic, the RMI decided to close its borders in hopes of preventing an outbreak. The country had just come out of a several month-long battle against dengue fever, which severely affected the urban populations in Mājro (Majuro) and Ibae (Ebeye) between August 2019 and January 2020. For months internal transportation ceased, including the government fieldtrip ships that collect copra, supply local stores, and provide affordable travel. This action successfully spared outer atolls from dengue outbreaks, but it also meant that outer atoll stores ran empty and copra makers and artisans were unable to sell their produce. With dengue fresh in their memory, the RMI government acted resolutely to the threat of COVID-19. In August 2020, the RMI was one of very few countries that was still COVID-19 free. However, the closed borders also meant that several hundred citizens were trapped overseas, many visiting relatives in what were soon to be severely affected areas in the US mainland. By the beginning of August 2020, about 2,500 people, close to 10% of Marshall Islanders living in the US, had been infected with the virus, resulting in at least 70 deaths. 77% of those infected lived in Northwest Arkansas (NWA). Iọkwe, About a month ago, my family and I quarantined for two weeks. My daughter who was working at a different poultry plant from us tested positive for COVID-19. So, none of us could work because we were quarantined for two weeks. Unfortunately, Tyson didn't pay me for the two weeks that I was quarantined. During quarantine, I had called Unum (a company that handles HR issues), and asked why is it that I'm not getting paid during my quarantine. They had said, ‘The reason you are not getting paid is because you tested negative’. The only reason why we were in quarantine was because my daughter was positive. As soon as her case closed, we had to go get tested again to make sure that it was safe for us to go back to work. After working one whole week, Tyson still had not paid me. When I saw this, I went straight to payroll. It was the day that I was supposed to get paid. Payroll said, ‘Tomorrow, the money will be direct deposited to your account’. I immediately double checked with HR. HR told me to give them time to resolve the issue. When I checked my account the next day, there was still nothing there. Once again, HR said they weren't sure when the money was going to go in my account. It's been three weeks since I returned to work, and I'm still not getting paid. I have a daughter who is an upcoming senior this year. I am trying my hardest to work and provide for my family. How am I supposed to do this if I'm not getting paid? How am I supposed to pay our rent? How am I supposed to pay for food? I am sad to say that Tyson is not only doing this to me, but also to many of my other Marshallese co-workers. The majority of Marshallese that I work with have not received their checks either. I pray for all the families who are going through this same problem. The Marshallese community in NWA is the largest in the continental USA, with an estimated 10–15,000 members, many of whom work in poultry factories. Meatpacking towns like these in rural and semi-rural towns have become loci of migration for a range of peoples. They have also become the center of widespread COVID-19 outbreaks. Poultry workers are so-called essential workers, those at the frontlines who keep the societal wheels turning. They are also overwhelmingly non-white, essential but devalued, something made abundantly clear as their workers contract virus infections in large numbers and governments and factories do little to help. In late June 2020, China banned poultry shipments coming from a Tyson Foods plant in Springdale, Arkansas, due to high infection rates among the employees. As many as 481 people had COVID-19, with 455 asymptomatic. Yet the plant, like many others, did not close. Approximately 87% of COVID-19 cases at meatpacking plants have been in ethnoracial minorities. Standing elbow to elbow with their colleagues on the assembly line, these essential workers get quickly infected and receive little or no support from their employer. Instead, the workers unknowingly carry the virus back to their families. Marshallese live in large, multigenerational households that reflect and create strong familial bonds central to Marshallese culture. This is one factor that makes the community especially vulnerable to the virus. While exposure to COVID-19 in meatpacking plants reflects Marshallese experience as migrants, disproportionate Marshallese deaths are also tied to their indigenous history. US colonialism and nuclear testing has led to high rates of cancer, diabetes, and heart disease—all of which make one particularly susceptible to death from COVID-19. Rates of diabetes among Marshallese are 400% higher than the US population as a whole. Rather than making amends for past wrongs, a limited US fund for nuclear reparations ran out of money decades ago and welfare reform in 1996 stripped Marshallese of their eligibility for Medicaid. Despite being able to travel to live, work, and study visa free in the US under the Compact of Free Association (COFA), Marshallese citizens remain largely outside the US welfare state. Poultry workers have limited health insurance benefits but few can afford to cover the rest of their families. Their inequitable healthcare outcomes—tied to the colonial past—can be considered ‘ neocolonial’. Death and suffering due to COVID-19 is neocolonial as well, and replicated in many indigenous communities around the world. Finally, in addition to the severe health issues, many Marshallese face economic insecurity and evictions. NHPIs have lower than average educational attainment and higher poverty rates, while Marshallese are particularly low income. They also have few workers' rights, reflected in poignant stories such as the one below: Iọkwe, I've been working for Tyson for almost four years now. On 6 June, my son and I took my husband to the ER (Emergency Room) because he was having difficulty breathing. It was confirmed that he had COVID-19. I knew I would get it too because my husband had it. Tyson had me tested and my results came back positive. I quarantined from the day I took my husband to the ER until 6 July, when I went back to work. On my quarantined days, I tried to contact HR and ask them about my paycheck. They told me to call Unum and I did. Unum told me that they would pay me if I was eligible. So, I waited to see if I was eligible but nothing has been paid to me. I still haven't heard from them. I got only one paycheck from them on 18 June. I knew my hours weren't 100 per cent when I got my paycheck that day. What was I supposed to do with a 40 per cent paycheck? My husband is still in the hospital. He has lost some of his memory from this sickness. When we talk on the phone, I sometimes cry because he doesn't always make sense. It is so sad! There is a total of eight of us in this household. There are two couples and four kids. Over the past few months, it has been very hard for us to pay bills and make rent. We didn't have money for the food that we needed to eat while we were sick. This is my story and I didn't expect it would happen this way. I didn't want my family to get involved in this pandemic but they did. My husband and I have been working at Tyson ever since we first moved here eighteen months ago. As newcomers, we experienced many different lifestyle changes here in the US. We brought our three children. Two of them will be attending high school this coming year and my oldest daughter stays home with her baby. We did not expect that we would get exposed to this virus. We self-protected and followed every single guideline. A worker who I shared a ride with was sick and Tyson sent me home. They wanted me to get tested for COVID-19. Luckily, my husband was able to cover some of our expenses because I did not get paid. I haven't been working since June 17 because I just received my results. It was so tough when I got the call and the nurse gave me the results. My whole family tested positive for COVID-19—from my granddaughter to my husband. All of us! I felt like there was a heavy burden on my shoulders. I think about so many things, like, my husband's health because he's diabetic, and my kids, bills, rent, and financial insecurity. We are barely living on our weekly paychecks. We have always tried so hard not to miss a day of work so that we can provide for the family. My husband and I were sent home with insufficient information on what to do for payment protection while we are still on quarantine. It's hard for us with little understanding of English. We shouldn't have to worry about money when I know that my husband and I are very dedicated workers to this company. This company should put their employees as their first priority. They should have already had a plan if anything like this crazy pandemic happened. It is so difficult that my whole family is on quarantine! I checked to see if we got paid like we were being told but our account has nothing in it. Please Tyson, I thought we were all in this together? My husband and I contributed much of our time helping you with your processing needs. What are you doing for us? How are you helping me and my family during this time of uncertainty? We have helped you feed so many families across the globe and now our family is suffering. We need your help. Like in NWA, the Marshallese communities in Dubuque and Waterloo, Iowa, sprung up around meat processing plants. These communities have also suffered deaths and economic hardship. In early August, these two Iowa communities had the next highest deaths among the Marshallese communities in the US, totaling 15 cases. On the west coast, news stories from Spokane, Washington and Orange County, California report grim situations in which Marshall Islanders have represented up to one third of the regional cases despite representing as little as 1% of the population. By early August, few Marshallese cases in Hawai‘i had been documented and nobody had died. However, non-Hawaiian Pacific Islanders, including Marshallese, represented 30% of all recorded cases but are only 4% of the population. Lacking information, Marshallese with positive COVID-19 tests in the household have grown increasingly desperate, worrying if they will be arrested or infect others if they leave the house to buy groceries for hungry family members. Additionally, more than 200 Marshallese citizens have been stranded since the RMI closed its borders. Marshallese suffering from COVID-19 reflects US policies of the past and points to the need for new policies today. Many things could help: shutting down meatpacking plants and towns with outbreaks, providing everyone paid leave, passing the Heroes Act which restores Medicaid for COFA citizens, or even for Arkansas to provide sick leave and health insurance to Marshallese citizens, as is the case in other states such as Hawaiʻi and Oregon. The COFA is currently being renegotiated, and could be structured to ease access to Medicaid, Medicare, education grants, and citizenship. The US could provide more direct monetary aid and actually provide reparations for the harms of the past rather than limiting the amount as in the nuclear tribunal. This was the last Tyson employee to pick up his Tyson Helping Hand check. I've printed eleven checks today. Also, thank you and koṃṃooltata once again. We have saved the last thirteen families from eviction, eight families from earlier and five new families that came forward after we posted our status a few hours ago. I just got a Facebook message few minutes ago from a stranger who was willing to help the last two families. Marshallese have endured immense hardship from the colonial atrocities wrought by the US since WWII. These include forced relocation to make way for nuclear weapons testing and the construction of a military base, a scandalous failure to respond properly to the medical hazards arising in its wake, an active policy of dependency making to maintain its strategic position in the region, and the impudence to let its limited fund for nuclear reparations run out of money. If there is one thing we have learned from this, it is that Marshall Islanders are remarkably resilient. Their cultural vitality should serve as an inspiration for all of us and urge us to endure through these trying times. We are confident that the strong sense of solidarity and cultural pride will help the Marshallese community make it through this terrible tragedy, too, as they have gotten through others. In the meantime, both politicians and the wider society can do their part to help and support the most vulnerable and essential members. Many thanks to the Marshallese families who shared their voices for this article, and to the task forces which have worked tirelessly to help the Marshallese people. Elise Berman's work has been funded in the last two years by Faculty Research Grants from the University of North Carolina at Charlotte, her previous research was funded by the Wenner-Gren Foundation (grant numbers 7947 and 8924), the National Science Foundation (grant number 0920857), the Lemelson Fund and the Society for Psychological Anthropology, the University of North Carolina at Charlotte, and the University of Chicago. Ola Gunhildrud Berta’s work has been funded twice by the Ryoichi Sasakawa Young Leaders Fellowships Fund (SYLFF). Albious Latior reports no conflicts of interest. Ola Gunhildrud Berta is a PhD candidate in the Department of Social Anthropology at the University of Oslo. Elise Berman is Associate Professor in the Department of Anthropology at the University of North Carolina at Charlotte. Albious Latior is a Marshallese activist and advocate based in Northwest Arkansas, USA.