Americans are still waiting for the $1,400 check from the federal government to make good on the $2,000 promise In the meantime, some Californians will get extra help from the state government. Gov. Gavin Newsom announced a $9.6 billion stimulus package for state residents and undocumented people.
Low-income Californians will be eligible for a $600 stimulus check from the state government.
Gov. Newsom and California lawmakers have agreed on a $9.6 billion relief package for the Golden State. The relief package is offering much needed relief to businesses, individuals, and students. The relief will come to Californians in different ways.
According to a statement, the package is making good on the promise to help low-income Californians, increase small business aid, and waive license renewal fees for businesses impacted by the pandemic. In addition, the package “provides tax relief for businesses, commits additional resources for critical child care services and funds emergency financial aid for community college students.”
The relief package is aimed at helping those who are hardest hit by the pandemic.
“As we continue to fight the pandemic and recover, I’m grateful for the Legislature’s partnership to provide urgent relief and support for California families and small businesses where it’s needed most,” Gov. Newsom said in a statement. “From child care, relief for small business owners, direct cash support to individuals, financial aid for community college students and more, these actions are critical for millions of Californians who embody the resilience of the California spirit.”
The package will quadruple the assistance to restaurants and small businesses in California. Small businesses and restaurants will be eligible for $25,000 in grants from a $2 billion fund.
Undocumented Californians will also receive a boost from the state government.
Low-income Californians will receive a one-time payment of $600 while undocumented people will be given a $600 boost. The money will be sent to tax-paying undocumented people in California.
According to the California Budget & Policy Center, undocumented people in California pay $3 billion a year in local and state taxes. Despite paying taxes, the undocumented community has not been ineligible for relief payments from the federal government. These payments will give needed relief to a community overlooked throughout the pandemic.
“We’re nearly a year into this pandemic, and millions of Californians continue to feel the impact on their wallets and bottom lines. Businesses are struggling. People are having a hard time making ends meet. This agreement builds on Governor Newsom’s proposal and in many ways, enhances it so that we can provide the kind of immediate emergency relief that families and small businesses desperately need right now,” Senate President pro Tempore Toni G. Atkins said in a statement. “People are hungry and hurting, and businesses our communities have loved for decades are at risk of closing their doors. We are at a critical moment, and I’m proud we were able to come together to get Californians some needed relief.”
The Covid vaccine has proven to be the most important tool in getting life back to normal. Yet, access to the vaccine is not the same for everyone across the board. Some community don’t have the same access as others and Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez is changing that in New York City.
Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez is part of the team that has created the Vacunabus in NYC.
The Vacunabus is exactly what you think it is. The mobile vaccination center is going into hard-to-reach communities to create a more equitable distribution of the life-saving vaccine. Right now, the bus is focusing on a specific group of people that need the vaccine: food service workers and undocumented immigrants. After that, the bus will focus on the homeless community in an attempt to vaccinate as many people as possible.
“There’s 500,000 New Yorkers who work in restaurants and we want to find all of them who want to be vaccinated and make it easier for them,” Sean Feeney, co-founder of Relief Opportunities for All Restaurants — or ROAR, told CBS NewYork.
The mobile vaccine centers are an expansion of Mayor Bill de Blasio’s first vaccination bus.
As American yearn for their lives to get back to normal, it is imperative that the vaccine rollout include as many people as possible. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention recently relaxed mask restrictions for all fully vaccinated people. If you are fully vaccinated, you can now participate in indoor and outdoor activities in groups with no masks and no physical distancing. It is a sign that that vaccine is the only way for life to get back to normal. It is welcomed news after more than a year of physical distancing and mask-wearing.
“We have all longed for this moment,” Dr. Rochelle P. Walensky, the director of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, said at a news conference Thursday. “If you are fully vaccinated, you can start doing the things that you had stopped doing because of the pandemic.”
It’s been a long quarantine but as the vaccine continues to roll out, we can all start to breathe a cautious sigh of relief. We are almost there.
It’s 1970. Groans of discomfort permeate a Los Angeles County Hospital hallway as a Mexican-American woman is in labor. This is going to be her first child.
Little does she know that it’ll also be her last.
“This is an example of erasure,” director Kathryn Boyd-Batstone told mitú.
For Rosa, details a harrowing reality for many women of color in 1970s California. Inspired by the 1978 Madrigal v. Quilligan case, the story follows Eva, a mother faced with the pivotal decision to join the Madrigal Ten after discovering she was unknowingly sterilized.
Wanting to highlight each individual experience, Boyd-Batstone described her heroine as “a fictional composite character” inspired by multiple plaintiffs from the Madrigal Ten.
At first glance, Eva’s story prominently resembles the experience of plaintiff Melvina Hernández.
Hernández, at 23, signed a document that allegedly consented to an emergency C-section. Fearmongering by doctors and nurses highlighted a perceieved risk of mortality, pressuring her to sign a document she couldn’t read.
Four years later, she was informed that she had actually signed for a tubal ligation.
The history of eugenics is an ugly one, acting as a form of silent genocide.
In Eva’s case, medical professionals take advantage of her. Doctors and nurses took advantage of her language barrier and the pain of child labor.
The story, while historical, is relevant in the current context of the Trump era’s immigration policies.
Last year, an ICE nurse whistleblower reported the nonconsensual mass hysterectomies of migrant women detained at the border.
“Although the court case happened over fifty years ago, we are still in a time where reproductive rights are not respected,” Boyd-Batstone said. “This is not an issue of the past, and so the fight continues.”
A mistrust that remains prevalent in the 21st century.
The Madrigal Ten is a testament to the fight for reproductive rights and women of colors’ autonomy.
In 1975, Dolores Madrigal alongside nine other women filed a class-action lawsuit against L.A. County-USC Medical Center for the nonconsensual tubal ligations that occurred during child labor.
A complicated ordeal that received little funding, 26-year-old Chicana Civil Rights attorney Antonia Hernández impressively took on the case. Boyd-Batstone who read the court documents said, “it became obvious that at the time the hospital did not have adequate steps in place to make sure their patients could give informed consent.”
Dr. Karen Benker, the only physician to testify against the hospital, told the New York Times in 2016 that “voluntary informed consent” didn’t exist in the early 70s.
That is until after the National Research Act of 1974 following public outcry from the Tuskegee study.
Following Roe v. Wade, the Madrigal Ten case sought to end the forced sterilizations of women of color, define informed consent and provide consent forms in Spanish at a reading level individuals could understand.
In 2016 PBS released a documentary on the case called “No Más Bebes,” which greatly inspired Boyd-Batstone to create For Rosa.
“The main feeling that stuck with me after watching the documentary was how much strength it must have taken these women to face someone who tried to take their identity and demand accountability,” she said.
Validating women of color’s experiences was essential for Boyd-Batstone. While the film mirrors the malpractices of the medical industry, brought upon by systematic racism and bias, she also hopes that women who have felt “diminished or uneasy around doctors” find the courage to speak out.
For Rosa, sheds light on traditional themes of womanhood and Chicana feminism.
Simultaneously, the lawsuit took place during the rise in Chicana activism.
As tensions between mainstream white feminism and women of color peaked; Chicana activists put legislative reform and reproductive justice at the forefront. Furthermore, they brought awareness to discrimination as it intersects race, class, gender, and immigration.
Though on the sidelines, the case also harbored on the cultural question of defining femininity.
Worried for the state of her marriage, the correspondence of fertility with femininity felt dense. Heavily ingrained in machismo culture; the pain and frustration of no longer being able to conceive are palpable.
But the strength and courage to speak out defies all odds.
“As women, especially Latina women, I don’t think many stories show us how to do this,” Boyd-Batstone said. “So it was important to me to, one, honor the Madrigal Ten’s bravery but [to also] show young girls what it looks like to stand up and fight for your rights.”
Though it has been nearly 50 years since the Madrigal Ten case, the fight for women’s autonomy and reproductive rights is ongoing.
On June 7, 1978, the U.S. District Court ruled in favor of the USC Medical Center. Judge Jesse Curtis stated that miscommunication and language barriers resulted in unwanted sterilizations.
Nonetheless, the lawsuit’s impact was potent. The California Department of Health revised its sterilization guidelines to include a 72-hour waiting period and issued a booklet on sterilization in Spanish.
In 1979, California abolished its sterilization law after 70 years.
More than 20,000 people of various races and ethnicities were sterilized during this time.
For Rosa ends with archival footage of Dolores Madrigal and Antonia Hernández announcing the lawsuit. Nevertheless, its timely release is indicative of the continual demands for justice today.
Now more than ever we must remember the narratives of the Madrigal Ten, and other Black and Brown activists who continue to pave the way for change.
“My hope is that For Rosa humanizes the women so that whatever culture or race or gender you are, you can empathize with the women as human beings,” Boyd-Batstone said.
“My hope is that every person who watches understands that these Latina women are deserving of respect.”
Para Rosa (For Rosa) is available to stream on HBO Max.