By Alyson Jurgovan
FLINT, Michigan—Three women shed tears. They are mothers, they are daughters, they are wives. And they are all living in a national crisis. A highly corrosive river flows through the town of Flint, Michigan. This is where their drinking water comes from. They tell tales of heartbroken homes, of children in pain and of dreams diminished. Only these tales aren’t fables. They are real and they are told through a woman’s tears.
FLINT, Michigan—Three women shed tears. They are mothers, they are daughters, they are wives. And they are all living in a national crisis. A highly corrosive river flows through the town of Flint, Michigan. This is where their drinking water comes from. They tell tales of heartbroken homes, of children in pain and of dreams diminished. Only these tales aren’t fables. They are real and they are told through a woman’s tears.
In April 2014, Flint, Michigan, began
using a poisoned water source. Their government knowingly switched from Detroit’s
Water and Sewage Department, which gets its water from Lake Huron, to the Flint
River, to cut costs. Untreated and highly corrosive, the water caused the
city’s lead pipes to leach, making the drinking water contain high levels of
lead. In effect, Flint residents have experienced a deteriorating community
with significant reported health illnesses, effects and defects.
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"The water crisis has really brought a sense of fear. I’m always wondering if there’s enough water for my family members…"
—Pamela Powell
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“What we have in Flint is a case
where government has, at the intersection of the political economy, just
horribly failed human beings,” said Heather Dalmage, professor of sociology and
director of the Mansfield Institute for Social Justice and Transformation at
Roosevelt University. “It’s one more example of systems that have failed poor
people, and disproportionately at the sector of race; poor people of color.”
Tears of a Betrayed
Daughter
Pamela Powell who grew up in Flint holds a sign on which she has written words to describe her assessment of the water crisis. |
For Pamela Powell, 44, Flint is not
only the place where she grew up, but also the town the rest of her family
still calls home. Powell has since moved on to a new town, Kankakee, Illinois.
But as she watches the crisis from afar, the effects still hit home.
“The water
crisis has really brought a sense of fear. I’m always wondering if there’s
enough water for my family members and what type of illnesses they are going to
be plagued with,” Powell said.
The sad
truth is that some of her family members have deteriorating health. Her father has fast-progressing Alzheimer’s.
Her grandmother forgets what she’s doing at times. She has several cousins
under the age of 10 who are having trouble functioning in school. Her young
cousin’s school wants to have an IEP, or individualized Education Program,
meeting because he is unable to focus or sit still. There is no family history
of these ailments. A year ago, Powell said, she broke out with a rash on her
back. Even though she is no longer a permanent resident of Flint, her short
visits, she suspects, were enough to cause her ailments. The water is strong.
Powell now considers the city she loves to be as bad off as some Third World countries. But this isn’t a Third World country. This is America.Powell refers to the man-made crisis as “genocidal murder.” It was her government that chose to use a poisoned water source.
Powell now considers the city she loves to be as bad off as some Third World countries. But this isn’t a Third World country. This is America.Powell refers to the man-made crisis as “genocidal murder.” It was her government that chose to use a poisoned water source.
When reminded of her words, “genocidal murder,” Powell pauses. She
looks down to collect herself. Her voice shakes. “I feel like I have all of
these family members here in this place, and knowingly the water system was
changed. There was not a reason why it had to be changed other than to save
money…I wonder why that had to happen.”
A woman’s tears.
Tears of a Worried
Mother
Diane Marie Malone, mother of
seven, has lived her entire life in Flint, a total of 51 years. Malone, who talks
mostly of her children, has seen the harsh realities of the crisis through
their pain.
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A purplish rash spots the thigh of Diane Malone's son Deonta. The mother believes the rash was caused by the city's toxic water. |
Doctors
told her it was eczema, but she knew that wasn’t the case. According to Malone,
health officials weren’t taking her sons ailment seriously. “Maybe we should
call Governor Snyder,” she recalled doctors saying with a laugh. But Malone did
not think it was funny.
Malone’s
oldest son suffers from the crisis, as well. For the last seven months, her son
has been in the Flint City Jail. He has no choice but to use the resources that
are given to him. The family is told that the inmates are provided with one
bottle of water a day meant for drinking and washing up. Malone said her son
refuses to eat the food prepared at the jail because there is no way he can be
sure that it wasn’t cooked with poisoned water. For now, he survives off of
chips and candy.
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Deonta Malone waits with his mother Diane Marie Malone who say they feel the impact of the Flint water crisis. |
Malone
worries about her son. “Will they continue giving them bottled water until this
problem stops?” Malone asks. As she nods her head, she closes her eyes and her
shoulders sulk. “It’s hard,” she says. Unable to continue her sentence, she
simply mutters a quiet, “Yeah.”
A woman’s tears.
Tears of a Grieving
Wife
As Lynnette Peppler, 57, sits in
the bustling dining area at Blackstone’s Pub and Grill in Flint, Michigan, she
discusses the hardships she has faced as a result of this crisis. Another
aspect of life in Flint that is also hurting is local businesses. Her struggle
to keep her local car wash alive has been difficult, according to Peppler. At
one point, it was shut down, but eventually reopened with the help of local
support. Much like the establishment she eats her dinner in, the crisis has
taken a massive toll on her business.
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Lynnette Peppler says, "Flint is going to be the new Chernobyl." |
“They held up brown water, they
held up children who had skin rashes. My carwash was shut down because the
water bills were so exorbitant I could not pay for them,” Peppler said.
According to Peppler, the
detriments of this crisis have touched many institutions as it began with the
closing of not only her car-wash, but many other local businesses. She saw her
employees suffer tremendously and therefore the children of those employees,
she said. She saw the labor pool being affected and very similarly the school
system. “Flint is going to be the new Chernobyl,” Peppler said.
As Peppler discusses better times
when she opened the carwash with her husband, she begins to cry. “My
husband…he’s since passed away, so I’ve been struggling to keep it open since
his passing,” Peppler said through tears. “I want to do him proud,” Peppler
said.
A woman’s tears.