COVID-19 and Why I Am in Mexico

Everything feels surreal. Life seems like a movie. The world is in crisis, unprecedented containment and mitigation measures have been put into effect. There is a sense of dread, of doom. School has been cancelled and will remain cancelled for months. The economy is strained and will experience ongoing disruption. Capitalism, functioning as intended, has further distressed the economy with price hikes. Unintentionally, the system has produced widespread shortages.

Supply was disrupted in China. Like exporting our plastics for recycling, we relied on China. Cheaper labor and cheaper materials resulted in cheaper products. Capitalism likes cheaper products, so even while squawking about “bringing jobs back” we refused to pay more for domestically manufactured products. We never created a domestic industry supply chain because it was not economically viable as long as we imported vast quantities of goods from China. American production capacity was diminished in favor of cheap of imports. This reality is juxtaposed with our supposed preference for “American manufacturing.” Nationalistic ideals are just that, ideals, if not backed up by the willingness to pay more money. Ideals deteriorate into hollow rhetoric when not expressed through actions.

COVID-19 has wreaked havoc on industry in China and many of the products that are facing surging demand are simultaneously facing diminishing supply. I’ve never taken an economics course, but the results are predictable. Demand is so surged that even products with unaffected supply are facing shortages, shortages then causing hoarding which is causing more shortages which cause more hoarding, ad infinitum. The store shelves are bare of the most in-demand products, from medicines to cleaning supplies and canned food.

There is a fissure in the Americans’ perception of COVID-19, caused by disparate media reports, polarized partisan politics, and the promulgation of conspiracy theories. I broke many of my own, “Do Not Engage” rules when it comes to politics and partisan opinion and made several posts across social media. Engaging in polemic debates previously violated my own rules, but I draw the line here. Pandemics are non-partisan. There are no alternative facts. Very little is up for debate.

I tried to see if there was any way to get Myriah out of prison and onto trans leave as her trans leave date is in April, but as expected, there is not. She is categorically barred because of her charge, despite her judgment declaring her eligible. COVID-19 will be a disaster in jails and prisons. 

According to our government, Myriah serving 77 months in prison is justice. Released four months early would be akin to a 73 month sentence. What difference does it make to the state, 77 versus 73 months? Do those four months really make the difference between exacting justice and not? What they do do is endanger her life. She is an a vast and crowded open dorm in Coffee Creek minimum. They will endanger her life to extract the final 5% of her sentence from her—4 short months. They do this in the name of justice. The callous cruelty of this calculation is unfathomable to me. 

Selfishly I just keep thinking how grateful I am to not be in prison right now. It’s a good time to remind myself that if I were a person of color, I’d still be in prison. My life would be endangered. Just for not being white. Prison imbues you with a feeling of total impotence, as it is designed to. You have no control over your environment. And yet the people charged with taking care of you, your legal custodians, have no vested interest in your well being. You cannot take care of yourself and the people who are supposed to take care of you simply do not. 

The complete inability of the United States to test anyone is obscene. American’s disposable income has allowed high-level hoarding, strangely focused on toilet paper. Shortages due to hoarding have caused yet more hoarding behaviors, just like in prison. There is no such thing occurring, yet, in Mexico.

On March 6th, my girlfriend moved to Mexico. When we arrived I marveled at all the now-hiring signs, telling her, “everything will be fine. There are so many jobs!” I counseled her against getting a second Master’s, even if she could win a meager stipend. I had intended on spending Spring Break with her in Puerta Vallarta. By March 11th, I began doubting the viability of a vacation. By March 12th, I began panicking that I would not be allowed to either exit the US or enter Mexico. Classes were cancelled and moved online indefinitely. I changed my flight, moving it up one day, hoping to make it out in time. I advised my girlfriend to apply for that second Master’s. The economy is wildly uncertain. We need back-up plans.

Mexico will probably close the border and I won’t be able to cross between the countries, without risking being denied re-entry to Mexico, where I have decided to make a home until my classes resume in person. I am making this decision consciously. I am incredibly privileged in that my income is entirely based on attending school. As long as classes are online, I can continue to earn income from anywhere in the world. Everything other in-person event has been canceled. I am choosing to potentially get stuck in Mexico as opposed to getting quarantined in Portland, should it come to that. I worry excessively for my girlfriend, having just moved to a new country on the cusp of a global pandemic. Unlike the hilarious Twitter stories I’ve read from spatting lovers, we do well together in close quarters for long periods of time. There’s no one else I'd rather be cooped up with, in fact.

We are in deeply uncharted territory. I have chosen to navigate this from an unfamiliar land, but I have a “good feeling” about my decision. The apocalyptic grocery stores yesterday confirmed it. The bizarre mid-March snowstorm that delayed my flight for hours was the surreal cherry-on-top. I sat on the plane and watched the de-icer contraption run back and forth over the wing, something I’d never seen before in my life. I left Portland feeling like I’d barely made it out. Once we made it above the clouds, I could look down and see rolling hills of snow-capped forests. 

I’m going to try to write. I have two articles I’m working on and I am working on my book. I will have online classes that were never meant to be online classes. There will be hiccups and logistical nightmares. I will get to live with my girlfriend indefinitely, on my fixed income but where the cost of living is much lower. Infinitely resilient human beings will rapidly adapt to whatever becomes the new normal.

Healthcare is a basic human right. Mass incarceration is a human rights crisis. Human beings deserve housing. People need childcare, food, and paid sick leave. People need the peace of mind the economic security and a safety net provides. We need hope, options, and autonomy. Our health as a community depends on the health of its individuals—all individuals—we are inextricably linked to each other. Nothing occurs in a vacuum.

I have no blind party allegiance—just the pragmatism of someone who knows what it’s like to be marginalized and survive through successive crises. 

My worldview has been vindicated by a global pandemic.