Earth to Us

How Latina Community Leaders Rallied Together After Austin’s Disastrous Storm

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Photographed by Hope Mora

A warming planet means longer, hotter summers, more wildfires, and the obvious increase of heat waves. It also means erratic weather patterns, like this past February’s record snowfall and low temperatures in communities that were not accustomed to those conditions. Both Oklahoma and Texas declared a state of emergency after services like electricity and water were disrupted for millions.

The storm created a humanitarian crisis for neighborhoods already made increasingly vulnerable during the pandemic. Low-income communities and people of color were disproportionately affected by the outages, shoddy infrastructure, and loss of income when they could not go to work. More than 100 Texans died as a result of the storm, killed by hypothermia, unsafe roads, and carbon monoxide poisoning as they tried to warm up in the freezing temperatures.

In the state’s capital of Austin, the Workers Defense Project, otherwise known as Defensa Laboral, played a key part in assisting the city’s immigrant construction workers who were struggling during and after the ice storm. Organizers received donations, distributed food and water, and checked in on families who had their utilities cut off.

In a year that stacked a pandemic on top of the climate crisis, local mutual aid programs have often reached people faster than government efforts might. In WDP’s case, their distribution of food, water, and essential supplies caught the attention of local officials, who supported them financially. What started as an emergency neighborhood support network radiated further and further out. “WDP’s headquarters turned into a home base not just for our members but for the whole community around us,” remembers Mayra Huerta, an Austin campaign manager for the organization. “Eventually the city began giving us a bunch of donations because they don’t have the connections that we do with these communities. By the end of the week our operation really exploded. We were distributing thousands of gallons of water and thousands of meals per day, and hitting up sometimes up to 30 apartment complexes in a day.”

Many volunteers contributed despite facing crises at home. Longtime community activist Maria Rios had been supporting her husband while he was sick with COVID while also caring for four children. The experience had left the family stressed and cash strapped. “We were just finding our footing from one problem and then the storm happened,” Rios remembers. “I didn’t have water for about 15 days.” Rios’s apartment complex had a pool, and her family was forced to boil the water in order to use the bathroom and wash dishes.

Maria Rios with her husband and two children. She cares for two stepchildren as well. “I’ve been a community organizer for a while. When people see me on the street, they know me,” Rios says. “They’re always calling out and saying hello. It’s really important to me that I’ve been able to do this and it makes me so proud that my community loves me and that they know I’m here for them.”

Photographed by Hope Mora

After the storm, reports highlighted that richer, whiter neighborhoods throughout Austin were spared from excessive power outages compared to lower-income communities. According to the Texas Tribune, communities of color in Texas are less likely to house medical centers and hospitals, making it difficult or impossible to reach help when roads are impassable. Inequality continues when it comes to recovery efforts: A 2020 report from Princeton University on climate change and racial disparities outlined that due to the racial wealth gap in the U.S., communities of color saw a decrease in wealth after a natural disaster. “White communities saw higher levels of reinvestment in their communities after natural disasters in comparison to their minority counterparts,” the study explained.

Today, WDP’s recovery efforts continue at the same time as the organization fights against policies that disproportionately hurt immigrant workers in the construction industry. They include SB14, a deregulation bill that puts employee protections like water breaks for construction workers at risk—a particularly worrisome possibility in a state where summer days regularly exceed 100 degrees, and the season is only getting hotter. As Digna Cruz, an active member of the Workers Defense Action Fund, puts it: “We can’t just relax and go back to normal just because all the snow melted—we have to learn to deal with anything else that might come up.”

“We lived through so much during that time, but I tell my husband that we have to keep pushing forward for our kids,” Rios says. “My sons are 10 and 13, and they motivate me to keep trying even when things get rough.”

Photographed by Hope Mora
Photographed by Hope Mora

“The government should help immigrant families more,” Rios says. “We do so much essential work. There are still people who are struggling and who are barely surviving this pandemic.”

Photographed by Hope Mora

Water bottles stacked outside of the Workers Defense Project headquarters in Austin, Texas, with a mural by Trust Your Struggle Collective. At the beginning of March, 390,000 Texans were still under boil-water advisories after the winter storm. 

Photographed by Hope Mora

“It’s a blessing that we can organize and that we have access to an organization that told people that they had rights as workers and as immigrants,” says Digna Cruz. “They told us everything we needed to know and then we were able to teach our neighbors about where to go for help because the state didn’t really tell us anything.”

Photographed by Hope Mora

A sign in the WDP office. “If you give me a fish, you have given me food for a day. If you teach me to fish, you’ve given me food until the river becomes contaminated or destroyed by investors. But if you teach me how to organize, regardless of the challenge, I can unite with my community to create our own solution.” 

Photographed by Hope Mora

Cruz with her son. “You never know what’s going to happen: Things are changing, the weather is changing, and we weren’t ready,” she reflects. “We can’t just relax and go back to normal just because all the snow melted—we have to learn to deal with anything else that might come up.”

Photographed by Hope Mora

Mayra Huerta, an Austin campaign manager at Workers Defense Project, helped organize aid efforts before snow even melted in Austin. “By the end of that week our operation really exploded. We were distributing thousands of gallons of water and thousands of meals per day and hitting up sometimes up to 30 apartment complexes in a day.”

Photographed by Hope Mora

Liz Martinez worked in construction and waitressed when the pandemic began. She and her children lost their home in May and lived in a shelter for about four months, where Martinez quarantined when she was sick with COVID. When the storm hit, Martinez made coffee and brought it out to people to help them warm up. “As it became safer to go outside and move around, we started giving out food and other necessities. My kids helped me volunteer too; they love getting out there with me. They’re realizing a lot of things and they’re also learning how to contribute to the community.”

Photographed by Hope Mora

Virginia Badillo, a board member at Workers Defense Action Fund, with her son at the Austin capitol building. “I know so many people felt abandoned; people were on their own to survive,” she says of the mood in February. “The state should have done more to prepare us…that’s something I’ll definitely criticize them on. People were stuck. We’re the ones who have suffered the most during this pandemic, and now there was the storm. [The government] should have protected us.”

Photographed by Hope Mora

“We couldn’t heat up water or food since my appliances are all electric,” Badillo remembers. “My son kept asking for warm food and I didn’t have any. We charged our phones and warmed up in the car.”

Photographed by Hope Mora

“I tell my kids that we’ll figure it out, no matter what,” says Maria Rios, whose son is pictured here. “And that we should try to help other people get through all of this as well.”

Photographed by Hope Mora