OPINION

3October 27, 2022 OPINIONS

Editor: Maria Odenbaugh viewpoints.opinions@gmail.com

City targets unhoused community

Riverside votes to ban encampments along Santa Ana riverbed

ZACH REYNOSA

STAFF REPORTER

Homelessness is in fact a crime but not one committed by human beings trying to survive, it’s a crime of violence committed by the state which the city is not even trying to remotely hide.

The war on homelessness rages on in Riverside. On Oct 4. Riverside City Council had voted 6-1 to ban camping at the Santa Ana River bottom.

With more than 3,000 people currently residing at the river, 60% of them unsheltered, the city’s decision shows they deem being homeless a crime.

The goal of the ban is at least admirable in its moral goals, to decrease the amount of wildfires near the river to protect the homeless and anybody living nearby.

Yet the first to be removed from the area are ones that live next to houses along the river. The city prioritizes property above human beings whose needs are not being dealt with.

The ban also brings up concerns about whether or not Riverside has enough resources to house those taking up shelter near the river. At least Ward 2 City Council Member Clarissa Cervantes was able to detect this issue and stood as the lone vote

STEPHEN DAY | VIEWPOINTS Despite temperatures in the 90s and the danger and noise of passing trains, unhoused Riverside residents have set up tent encampments along the train tracks near Tyler Street and Indiana Ave.

against the ban.

The city stated that those who are affected by the ban could enroll in the Riverside County Partnership for the Homeless Outreach Meditation and Education Program.

However, for those who have a criminal record, the court will determine eligibility. Only those with non-violent, low level crimes will be admitted.

This eliminates any hope of rehabilitation for anyone else even after being arrested for trying to survive.

The city uses this program as a safeguard for those wrongfully discriminating the homeless rather than providing aid.

This ban is a prime example of the city enforcing its “homelessness is a crime” stance while actively disregarding ways that could prevent homlessness in the first place.

With an economic crash growing closer and closer the prevention of homelessness must be a major priority.

We as a community have seen what COVID-19 has done to the economic standing of millions of people throughout the country and even in our own home. COVID was a clear indication that when the system is put under pressure only the 99% experience the true force of economic downturn while the 1% takes advantage of our desperation and aggressively continues to make profits no matter the cost.

This dangerous mindset puts more and more people out of their homes and out on the streets where they are deemed as “invaluable” to society and looked upon as a parasite.

These people choose to set up near the river so they can be out of sight and have the choice to sleep somewhere other than some park bench or some bus stop. This is a space where they can settle down and not be constantly harassed by ignorant bystanders or, even worse, the police.

The ban will only provide a new influx of people finding new places to set up their temporary shelters where they will surely face more discrimination for years to come.

The next city council meeting discussing housing and homelessness is on Nov. 28 at 3:30 p.m., in the Virtual Meeting/ Art Pick Council Chamber.

Body positivity movement outdated, inclusionary Social media, outlet for negative reinforcements

JULIA GOLDMAN STAFF REPORTER

Social media has brought on psychological consequences for young women.

It not only causes women to experience body dissatisfaction, it causes self objectification and impacts their self worth. The introduction of social media and its massive growth has changed the meaning of the “idealized female body type” within the United States.

This standard for women was challenged in 2012 by The Body Positivity Movement— the first massively popular online movement that challenged the influential culture of unobtainable and toxic standards that represent women.

Despite this, The Body Positivity Movement ultimately failed and was simply a passing trend in the rapid changing social perception of the idealized female body type. The movement caused psychological consequences on young women.

The Body Positivity Movement began and reached popularity from plus size model Tess Holiday on Instagram using the hashtag #Effyourbeautystandards. The movement had a lot of success, with countless posts using multiple body positive hashtags- the result however, was disheartening.

Despite the movement representing a demand for change in societal standards, the reality of The Body Positivity Movement failed in its representation. The very unrecognized body types that the movement sought to depict, as well as people of colour, disabled and transgender individuals were not displayed nor promoted by Instagrams algorithm. Instead, the movement brought more light to the idealized body type, as the featured posts on Instagram overwhelmingly included thin, white women.

Lauren Miller, a nursing major at RCC, is a young woman who has grown up with society’s

STEPHEN DAY | VIEWPOINTS A young healthy woman standing on a scale, feels frustration because she is not seeing the numbers she thinks she needs based on toxic beauty standards.

hegemonic structure regarding women and their bodies, and the existence of it online.

Miller recognizes the importance The Body Positivity Movement stood for, however, claims she did not feel the positive effects.

“I did see more varieties of bodies online, but honestly, they were always being shamed. Through comments and posts, seeing the hate, it really affected me,” Miller said.

This negative reinforcement, through the appearance of hatred and retaliation in these comments and posts, was more impactful than the movement to Miller.

Young women, observing these posts of unconventional body types, also observed the pure hatred alongside it, inherently harming their perception of acceptable bodies.

It’s unfortunate The Body Positivity Movement suffers due to outside afflictions, however, with the nature of consuming media, it comes with consequences. The real issue with the kickback of the movement, is that the young women of the current and future generations pay the price.

Young girls that grow up with these contradicting social media movements are learning to see the hateful parts of their bodies rather than seeing the importance of them.

The issue itself is within the social media platforms. The movement suffers due to the representation and unrestricted negative comments. In this technology dependent world, young women need to be reminded of their self worth without backlash from the internet. The psychological effects are transparent on these young women, and in this increasingly technology dependent world, these young women need to be monitored within their usage, for their protection.

Sometimes loss breeds strength Health care, stigma adds to pain of casualty

PHOTO BY JOHN MICHAEL GUERRERO I VIEWPOINTS

JENNIPHER VASQUEZ EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

I can now say I was failed by my doctors and I’m not OK with it.

My heart breaks everytime I read about a mother who died during or after labor, when I see another grieving couple post about their miscarriage and every single time I think about how I suffered through my own pregnancy loss.

October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. Loss.

I’m tired of hearing that word but I understand why it’s used so often in this light.

Why is loss the focus?

Because there isn’t a solution to that kind of loss.

I lost my trust in emergency rooms, or rather gained a fear of needing to go there.

It is gut wrenching and absolutely infuriating to think about how each person there ignored me.

What hurts more is knowing that my miscarriage story is very minimal compared to the stories other expecting mothers have shared of incompetent and careless healthcare workers.

What I really lost was my baby, but I still had me.

It wasn’t fair to me or anyone else who was pregnant during the peak of the pandemic in 2020 and forced to sit in ER’s alone.

I expected to be taken care of, I was naive, but even the bare minimum of reading my ultrasound correctly wasn’t done.

My loved ones rallied around to support me in the months that followed the miscarriage, but ultimately I was the only one who could pull myself out of my funk.

I sat in the hospital alone after rushing in to find out why I had begun bleeding early on into my pregnancy.

My mom and the baby’s father waited outside for hours while I was wheeled around by nurses and begged them to put me in a bed because I was in so much pain.

Nothing was done besides having my blood drawn and being given a Zofran to ease the nausea. Super helpful.

I had yet to make it to my first ultrasound, also due to the pandemic. I hadn’t actually seen my baby through a screen yet or heard the heartbeat, but several pregnancy tests and my primary care physician had already confirmed I was nine weeks pregnant.

The ER doctor’s diagnosis was:“it’s probably just implantation bleeding or early signs of a miscarriage.”

That didn’t seem right.

Thinking back, this is likely why I push so hard now to be heard at any capacity. It was the first time in my life I felt like I wasn’t being understood when I really needed to be.

They weren’t in the restroom with me when I was screaming and crying, gripping the railings in the stall as I watched below what was likely the placenta drop into the toilet.

I had used the restroom once before while in the ER that night, immediately after my emergency ultrasound and in the same room it was conducted. That restroom had a “press for HELP,” button that I paid close attention to and thought to myself, “Oh, good. That’s there if I need it.”

I spent the evening avoiding a trip to the restroom because I had been spotting blood and was afraid for what I already knew might happen.

There wasn’t one of those very necessary buttons in the ER patient waiting room restroom stalls where I really did need it.

The doctors and nurses weren’t there when I gained the strength to jump off of the toilet and quickly turned around to attempt grabbing the bloody glob.

I had hoped to hold my baby just once before having to say goodbye, only to have that hope ripped away by the automatic toilet that flushed before I could reach down into the bowl.

I needed a doctor, I needed my mom and I needed to have been listened to and taken care of from the moment I arrived.

I left the hospital after being ignored by doctors and nurses for almost eleven hours.

I told them I was in pain several times and that I had likely just had the miscarriage in the restroom.

I had been alone all night with no help despite being in a wheelchair because I could barely stand on my own, but I shouldn’t have had to.

Sure, I owe my ever growing independence to it. I talked myself through it because I had to but I didn’t want to.

I’ll never forget the face of the doctor who sent me home with the hope that I was still pregnant.

When I asked, “is my baby OK?” I expected to be told the correct answer, not to be sent home with the false hope that I was still pregnant even after telling them what I suffered in the restroom.

How did the pain and trauma shape me? It taught me to fight for myself, dig deeper into everything and to always be adaptable in any circumstance.

Why? Because after being told, “your baby is ok, really tiny, but still there,” I was greeted just days later with a somber, “I’m so sorry,” by my OBGYN.

She explained to me that the ER doctor was wrong and my hospital ultrasound showed I had in fact already had a miscarriage.

This should have been the answer I was sent home with days prior.

Sure it was easy to be angry at the ER doctor who gave me false hope, but I often think about how I’m not the only one that this has happened to.

I don’t know what to do to prevent this from happening, but maybe sharing my experiences will add to the conversation that every pregnant person must be listened to just as much as the screaming child sitting in the same ER.

Every campaign for Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month is centered around how to prevent miscarriages, stillbirths and maintain a healthy pregnancy.

The conversation is never focused on bringing awareness for the losses that were a result of inadequate medical care.

The true “loss” for me was the timid, soft spoken girl who accepted the first answer I was given by a careless physician. I had to find a way to not let that be the driving force in my next steps.

What was my driving force? The desire to make my baby proud.

I hate what I went through. I hate how I went through it.

But what I hate more is being seen as almost a victim of miscarriage rather than a force to be reckoned with because I came out of it so much stronger.

I slowly gained my confidence back, an altered sense of awareness of the world and — more than anything— an angel to watch over me as I overcome every new obstacle.

That’s my driving force. That’s my defining factor.

I didn’t let the stigma of “loss” in miscarriages be the only thing that came from it.

Flashbacks of the “I’m so sorry,” from my OBGYN, the dagger that hits my heart when my hands unintentionally reach down to feel for my non-existent baby belly and the echo of my screams from the ER restroom will always be weakening.

However, overcoming emotional agony I thought I’d never surpass, and did, is a testament to how much I’ve gained since then.

I hope that every person who has experienced any form of pregnancy loss gains from their said “loss,” in any capacity. But, I also hope that the stigma surrounding miscarriages starts to shift into a focus of what there is to gain following that incurable loss and how to improve our healthcare system.