by: Ann R. Tickamyer

Unlike so many past deadly diseases of pandemic scope and scale, almost from the beginning, Covid-19 has visibly functioned as a giant sorting mechanism.  In the U.S. early reports highlighted that it separated the young from the old, women from men, the healthy from the at risk, those deemed in essential services from the rest of the workforce, the homed from the homeless, the urban from the rural, even the right from the left.  Most of all, but largely unsaid, it divides the privileged from the poor and marginalized.  Fundamental social cleavages are deeply implicated in who is most vulnerable, how it is spread, what are the consequences, and what recovery might look like.  And the usual suspects of gender, race, ethnicity, and class figure more prominently and urgently than ever.

Covid highlights the critical necessity of bringing an intersectional lens to any research, following the precepts of feminist theory and epistemology [1].  Although no surprise to gender researchers, for many observers it has been a wakeup call on the society’s dependence on and the precarity of women’s work in a deeply and systemically unequal gendered division of labor.  Whether paid or unpaid but too often invisible and devalued, women’s work features prominently both as providers and targets.  Women disproportionately work in the service industries where they are either deemed essential or are out of a job – healthcare workers and cleaners on the one hand, restaurant servers and retail workers on the other.  They are agricultural workers in an industry that remains stereotyped as male. At home they are the primary care takers with the normal heavy responsibilities multiplied during social isolation.  The vulnerabilities and burdens are magnified when race and class are added to the mix. Documenting these and the numerous other inequities of the pandemic is critical to better understanding the many differential impacts buried in the rhetoric of a ‘”pan”demic, that in principle affects everyone equally but actually varies widely. Yet in a cruel irony, it is harder than ever to accomplish this work.

The situation is deeply frustrating, all the more because it embodies a contradiction.  At a time when we need better, more, and more committed research into the intersectional gendered impacts of global disaster, it is next to impossible to conduct direct research on what is happening in the field.  The activities necessary to continue this research are in direct contravention to safety requirements, restrictions imposed by sponsoring institutions, and basic common sense.  It is impossible to travel, to interview, to observe, and document in person what is happening, and even if it were possible, it would defy fundamental ethical obligations to the participants of such study.  The more remote the location or the fewer the resources available to the community, the more important to understand and document the realities on the ground, the greater the barriers to doing so. The first obligation of any research is to do no harm, and in ordinary circumstances with reasonable precautions and observance of human subjects protocols, that is not an issue.  But in the case of a world-wide pandemic, any effort must be regarded as a potential harm to be avoided until safety can be assured for participants, researchers, and their respective communities. We need to hear diverse voices, perspectives, and experiences, and as researchers we need to facilitate their dissemination.  And right now, this is difficult if not impossible.

A case in point:  On March 1, I returned home to State College from a week spent in Dillingham Alaska, a scoping trip for collaborators on a large trans-disciplinary research project on the impacts of climate change in Arctic communities.  The spread of Corona virus in the U.S. was just becoming obvious and we were glad to get home, although its extent and impacts were only starting to be experienced.  A few short weeks later, we went into “lockdown” mode, sheltering in place “to flatten the curve” of its transmission.  As we practiced social isolation, many remote Alaskan villages practiced entire community isolation; others struggled with the consequences of lacking that control; both modes with implications for health, safety, and food security.

The trip to Alaska was to be the first of several to establish relations, trust, access, communication, and permission for future research on the complex connections between food security, migration, and climate change in the Arctic and its gendered practices and consequences.  Access was already a high hurdle, now it is deferred with no clear path to when and how it can be established. As the lone gender researcher on the project, this is particularly distressing given how few studies have used a gendered lens.

Research around the world repeats this scenario.  In some places pre-established relationships and ongoing data collection by local researchers continues either directly or virtually, but in many cases it has been suspended or radically transformed.  Where possible, phone, video, and mail have substituted for field research, but often with deep compromise in the nature and quality of the data amid many limits to the reach of virtual communication methods.  Even in the U.S. large segments of rural populations have little access to broadband and wireless communications. Worldwide, the more marginalized the group, the more likely this is the case.  The greater the gender inequality, the less likely women will have access or permission to participate even if there is community or household access. Many reports from around the world suggest an increase in family violence from the isolation measures advocated for virus protection, requiring great ingenuity to ascertain but little recourse except measures to keep research from exacerbating the situation. 

So what is to be done? There are few easy answers.  In a previous piece I said it is time for “serious rethinking of our entire enterprise” with better attention to how well feminist ideals in research are put into practice with the example of participatory approaches moving beyond advocacy to actuality.  Hypothetically, this can enable easier continuation of research even where outside researchers lose access.  It is not a solution but moves in the right direction. Similarly, taking every opportunity to highlight inequalities with research designed to uncover power dynamics and differentials to advocate for women’s empowerment and gender transformation in agriculture, food production, and beyond.  This may be particularly apropos at a time when the realities of pandemic vulnerabilities and inequities have intersected with those occasioned by the pain and violence of police brutality, institutional and individual racism, and growing inability to hide from the realities of the cruelties and oppression experienced by persons of color on the one hand and various forms of white privilege on the other.  Protest has spread from the U.S. to become a global movement.  Many pundits have speculated on what life will look like if and when we emerge on the other side of these now intertwined disasters. It is incumbent on feminist researchers to be prepared to study, participate, and help shape the new realityAnn Tickamyer is Professor Emerita of Rural Sociology and Demography at Penn State University. Her scholarship over the last 40+ years examines rural poverty, policy, and livelihoods; gender and development; gender, disaster, and climate change; and research methods in the U.S., Southeast Asia, and beyond.

Notes:

[1] See Tickamyer and Sexsmith 2019 and Tickamyer 2020 for descriptions and discussions of feminist methodology.

 

Ann Tickamyer is Professor Emerita of Rural Sociology and Demography at Penn State University. Her scholarship over the last 40+ years examines rural poverty, policy, and livelihoods; gender and development; gender, disaster, and climate change; and research methods in the U.S., Southeast Asia, and beyond.