Abstract
Extant research regarding collective memory has established the importance of examining how socially constructed memories shape group identities, lived experiences, and realities over time. In addition, collective memory scholars have underscored the inextricable and co-shaping linkages between space, place, and collective memory. However, comparatively less is known about how collective memories are constructed and articulated in cases of environmental exposures. We argue that it is important to investigate the ways in which exposed communities preserve their stories and how their collective memories influence efforts to seek redress as well as push for broader social change. We examine a case of historical pesticide exposure and related illnesses and mortality among farmworkers in Central Florida. We ask how exposed communities translate their experiences into a cohesive collective memory, how cultural artifacts preserve their stories in the broader discursive context, and how they utilize various histories as a form of health activism. We draw on data including ten years of farmworker blog entries, in-depth interviews, and media coverage. Our analysis revealed how farmworkers created artifacts representative of their memories of environmental exposures and illnesses, as well as how they translated these experiences into a cohesive collective memory.
Decades of research have well established that agricultural labor is inherently associated with the risk of exposure to a variety of dangerous chemicals and toxicants (e.g. Barba, 2020; Donley et al., 2022; Harrison, 2008, 2011). Indeed, farmworkers have been categorized as one of the most vulnerable, at-risk populations in the United States (Flocks et al., 2018; Holmes, 2006; Salzman, 2018). Before this, there was even less protective infrastructure and education for farmworkers, which left them susceptible to long-term exposures to chemicals such as pesticides. Yet, frustratingly little progress has been made in terms of agricultural labor reform in the U.S. to ensure the safety and well-being of farmworkers since that time (Donley et al., 2022). In response, many farmworker groups and advocacy organizations have pushed for aggressive policy changes to protect farmworkers from occupational exposure risks. We argue that additional research is needed to investigate the different ways in which farmworkers and their champions articulate their claims and press for action over time. To address this research need, we focus our analysis on the role of collective memory both in validating and reinforcing memories of exposure and claims of illness among farmworkers, as well as how farmworkers can leverage their shared narratives to serve as a cautionary tale. The concept of collective memory highlights how groups and communities can develop shared understandings of the past over time. Collective memories provide a reciprocal framework that helps to interpret the past through the lens of the present. They also serve as a schema for understanding the present and future (Cunningham et al., 2010; Halbwachs, 1992; Heersmink, 2023; Olick, 1999; Olick and Robbins, 1998).
Although extant research has investigated the role of collective memory construction and maintenance over a broad spectrum of contexts, there is a gap in knowledge about the role of collective memory in instances of environmental exposures and illnesses that manifest over long period of times. This dearth of research is significant because we know that cases of environmental illness and exposure—especially when there is a time lag between exposure and manifestation of symptoms—are very often shrouded in ambiguity and etiological uncertainty (Armentor, 2017; Lévêque et al., 2020). In addition, claims regarding illness causation are frequently met with resistance, contestation, and even harassment (e.g. Jacobson and Adams, 2017; Shriver et al., 2014). In this way, we argue it is important to investigate the ways in which exposed communities preserve their stories and how their collective memories come into play in efforts to seek redress as well as push for broader social change.
To investigate these issues, we focus our research on a case of agricultural chemical contamination and pesticide exposure in the Lake Apopka region of Florida. While Lake Apopka was once widely known as a pristine lake and home to numerous fish camps, the installation of significant agricultural production in the late 1800s through the late 1990s led to a sharp decline in water quality and quantity, including the loss of more than 20,000 acres of vital wetlands surrounding the lake (SJWMD, 2023). The area became known for its muck farms, or agricultural operations where wetlands are drained to reveal nutrient-rich soil underneath. Phosphorous-intense discharges from the surrounding farms led to disastrous algal blooms, resulting in fish die offs and a murky, soupy lake (Bachmann et al., 1999; SJWMD, 2023). One by one, the fish farms closed, and the lake ceased to be an attraction for anglers from all over the country. Although there were some unsuccessful attempts to reduce the amount of pollution in the lake and surrounding areas, the St John's Water Management District ultimately bought out all of the farms surrounding Lake Apopka in a last-ditch effort to improve the dire ecological conditions (SJWMD, 2023). The last farm closed in 1998. Since then, monumental work and significant money have gone into remediating the area, including efforts to restore thousands of acres of wetlands, harvesting problematic fish species such as gizzard shad, and replanting native wetland vegetation species in shoreline areas (SJWMD, 2023).
While some progress has been made to restore the lake, significantly less attention has been paid to the human health impacts of the decades of excessive application of agricultural chemicals, including the use of organochlorine pesticides such as DDT. This is most true for the former farmworkers on these farms who worked for decades in direct contact with pesticides and other dangerous toxicants. In the years following the buyout, many former farmworkers have become sick and passed away due to pesticide-related illnesses. The community has noted the high rates of lupus (associated with pesticide exposure [see Parks et al., 2017]), diabetes, and heart and kidney problems to name a few. Yet, when they have reached out for help, support, and recognition, they have been met with a disturbing lack of response from those responsible for their exposure, as well as medical professionals and state and federal governments. In order to make their voices louder, the farmworkers utilized a variety of strategies starting in the early 2000s, which drew on their collective memories to make their stories and histories visible to broader publics.
To analyze how these farmworkers translated their environmental exposure and illness experiences into a cohesive collective memory, we collected several different types of data, including archival materials and posts from the Farmworker Association of Florida (FWAF) blog. The FWAF was instrumental in working with the farmworkers to raise awareness of the injustices that had occurred in their community and press for action regarding their medical conditions. We also conducted in-depth interviews (n = 36) with farmworkers and their families, farmworker outreach professionals and activists, as well as medical professionals and politicians involved in this case. And finally, we drew on media coverage of the case to provide additional context and background for our analysis. Our findings build on previous work regarding pesticide activism (e.g. Harrison, 2011) and indicate that the farmworkers utilized three overarching collective memory-based strategies to garner support and validation, including the creation of two memorial quilts, the use of space to connect their histories with present-day environments, and the use of storytelling to preserve their stories and their legacy in the memories of others. Our results contribute to the broader literatures on collective memory and environmental illness by illustrating how, in cases of environmental claims-making, collective memories can be instrumental in maintaining shared narratives and experiences over time. In this case, the farmworkers sustained their collective memories in solidarity with one another as a way to understand the past and present. Their articulations and expressions of these memories worked to raise awareness about their health experiences, as well as a call for broader reforms for farmworkers.
Theoretical considerations
Extant research regarding collective memory has established the importance of examining how socially constructed memories shape group identities, lived experiences, and realities over time (e.g. Cunningham et al., 2010; Halbwachs, 1992; Heersmink, 2023; Olick, 1999; Olick and Robbins, 1998). While there are many (and sometimes competing) definitions of collective memory, we draw on Heersmink's description (2023: n.p.): “groups have historical narratives that characterise them in important ways and ensures their continuity over time. Shared memories of events constituting these narratives are referred to as collective memories, i.e., memories that a collective shares.” In other words, collective memory is a collectively constructed understanding of past events and shared experiences (see also Gavriely-Nuri, 2014; Halbwachs, 1992; Olick, 1999). Collective memory is an ongoing, subjective process that is constructed and re-constructed across multiple pathways of privilege and power (Guenther, 2012; Weedon and Jordan, 2012). With its roots in sociology, the collective memory literature focuses on how groups develop feelings of solidarity and a collective, cultural identity; how they develop a “socio-biographical memory” that is attached to individual and collective history; and the relationship between memory and history (Shostak and Fox, 2012: 374; see also Cunningham et al., 2010; Halbwachs, 1992; Olick and Robbins, 1998).
Importantly, collective memory is analyzed with time and space in mind. As Halbwachs (1992) noted, remembrances of the past are shaped by understandings of the present (also see Cunningham et al., 2010; Gensburger, 2016; Heersmink, 2023). In this way, collective memory is malleable and collective understandings of past events are subject to change over time as new events and perceptions can serve as lenses through which history is viewed (Bearman et al., 1999; Cunningham et al., 2010; Griffin, 2004; Schudson, 1992). Collective memory can translate beyond those that have experienced past events. Indeed, it can serve as a narrative of historical interpretation for those who identify with a certain group, community, or culture but were not participants in certain events and experiences (Harris et al., 2008). Members of a group can “remember” community histories even if they were not there themselves. Some examples of this type of “removed remembering” include holidays commemorating historical events that occurred before a group member was born, family histories that date back generations, and national identities tied to historical events such as wars and revolutions (Harris et al., 2008).
Scholars have also underscored the inextricable and co-shaping linkages between space, place, and collective memory. The environments where historical events took place retain particular meanings and interpretations, even for individuals that did not experience the events. In cases of events that are particularly tragic, unjust, or destructive, people can revisit these spaces to reflect on the events and lessons learned from these traumas. While some have referred to this as “morbid tourism” (see Truc, 2011), other scholars have investigated how spaces that had been associated with memories of neglect and grief can be transformed into places of healing while still retaining a connection to and affinity for the space (Anguelovski, 2013). Importantly, collective memories connected to spaces can be a source of contestation. As an example, Sadowski (2020) points to the contestation over historical monuments that represent painful or shameful pasts and whether they should remain or be removed (e.g. monuments of military leaders from the U.S. Civil War).
The types and scales of collective memories are also analytically important to note. Collective memories are formed through collaboration, contestation, and refining processes from small groups to transnational memories of history (Gavriely-Nuri, 2014; Olick, 1999). One distinction is between communicative memory and cultural memory. The main distinction here is that cultural memory is represented and reinforced through institutional avenues such as national anthems, school curricula, and religious narratives (Assman, 2011). Communicative memory, on the other hand, is interpreted and reinterpreted through regular social interactions, which restricts it to smaller scales and groups because it is not incorporated into more widespread discourse (Assman, 2011; Heersmink, 2023). However, Heersmink (2023: n.p.) notes that these categories overlap significantly: “Roughly, communicative memory is about remembering the recent past through informal conversations, whereas cultural memory is about remembering the deeper past through formalised methods such as rituals, commemorative services, textbooks, documentaries, etc. However, the recent past is also remembered through formal methods such as monuments, textbooks, documentaries, and Wikipedia pages.”
Collective memory is often analyzed by examining the objects, artifacts, and narratives that represent a group's cultural identity, which is described by Assmann and Czaplicka (1995: 128): a close connection to groups and their identity exists which is similar to that found in the case of everyday memory. We can refer to the structure of knowledge in this case as the “concretion of identity.” With this we mean that a group bases its consciousness of unity and specificity upon this knowledge and derives formative and normative impulses from it, which allows the group to reproduce its identity.
Collective memory, environmental illness, and activism
The literature regarding collective memory provides utility for investigating the interplay between history and remembering in cases of long-term exposure and illness (Auyero and Swistun, 2009). In cases where communities have experienced long-term exposures to environmental hazards, community members must work to understand and process their exposures and resulting illnesses in a variety of ways. For example, scholars have investigated how contaminated communities can draw on environmental justice narratives to make the connections between environmental health and human health in political ways (Houston, 2013; Houston and Vasudevan, 2018). In their study of Houston and Vasudevan (2018) argue that cultural approaches such as narrative and storytelling can be particularly important in shifting discourses and perspectives of community-level contamination over time (see also Houston, 2013; Vasudevan et al., 2023).
What is important—especially in cases where there is significant lag between exposure and illness—is understanding how exposed communities or groups of people make sense of their health experiences over time and understand the space in which they live (Adams et al., 2018; Auyero and Swistun, 2009). Scholars have examined the use of illness narratives as a way that exposed individuals can collectively remember, process, grieve, and move forward after exposures and illnesses have occurred. Illness narratives can help sick communities communicate their collective memories of exposures and their illness experiences, as well “schematize” their health issues for themselves (Riessman, 2003; Shostak and Fox, 2012). The process of developing and communicating illness narratives taps into collective memories of exposures and illness, informs collective identities, and shapes individual identities in the context of time and space. Importantly, medical interventions often tend to neglect historical perspectives in diagnosis and treatment, creating a blind spot in the context of connecting exposures to environmental toxicants and illness. Patients are often responsible for voicing their illness narratives to connect experience and causation (Bingley et al., 2008; Jurecic, 2012; Kleinman, 2020; Kokanović and Flore, 2017).
Communities that have been exposed to environmental hazards can draw on their collective memories and illness narratives to challenge those responsible for their exposures and illnesses, push for validation, and seek medical intervention. Brown (2007) utilizes the term embodied health movements to describe movements that seek to challenge medical interpretations, public perceptions, and scientific conclusions regarding exposure-illness linkages as well as potential interventions (see also Brown et al., 2004). In the context of exposures that occurred in the past, embodied health movements can invoke collective memories to frame their grievances and recriminations (see Gongaware, 2010; Kubal and Becerra, 2014). This type of memory activism is defined as the “commemoration of a contested past in order to influence public debate, primarily towards greater equality, plurality, and reconciliation” (Gutman, 2017: 55). Memory activism engages in the creation of oppositional knowledge by incorporating counter-informational, critical, radical, and transformative knowledges (Coy et al., 2008). As noted by Guenther (2012: 159): “Disputes about collective memory can give rise to a movement, while efforts at repressing a particular event or history from shared memories may galvanize constituents and/or propel adherents into greater involvement” (see also Gongaware, 2010).
While this research has mapped the role of collective memory construction and maintenance in group unity and social movement activity, comparatively less is known about how collective memories are constructed and articulated in cases of environmental exposures and illness (Adams et al., 2018; Messer et al., 2015). This is especially true in instances where collective memory legacies are intentionally rooted and expressed materially, spatially, and temporally. In a comparative analysis of two contamination sites in Colorado and Oklahoma, Messer et al. (2015) utilized a framework of collective identity and collective memory to examine how rural communities collectively remember contamination and exposures. Specifically, they found that communities actively utilize shared histories to make sense of long-term experiences with environmental exposures and health, and differences in community history can result in differences in collective memories in contaminated communities. In addition, the discourse surrounding pollution can spark environmental activism in some communities and not others. Adams et al. (2018: 218) analyzed a case of petrochemical contamination in Ponca City, Oklahoma, the findings of which “highlight[ed] the … importance of subtler cultural processes such as drawing on collective memories to construct and reconstruct interpretations of their exposure and illness experiences.”
These and other studies on contested environmental illness have established that making claims about exposure-related disorders can be particularly vexing when there is a significant time lag between contact with hazards and illness (e.g. Brown, 2007). In cases where groups of people are exposed to environmental risks and then have to make collective sense of their illnesses years or decades later, understanding their shared memories can provide important insights into the lived experiences and collective understandings that shape their illness experiences. In addition, we contend that these collective memories can play an important role in how victims collectively seek redress for injustices.
We build on and extend the literatures on collective memory and environmental illnesses by examining a case of pesticide exposure and long-term illness and mortality among farmworkers in Central Florida. Specifically, we examine this case to ask: How do exposed communities translate their illness experiences into a cohesive collective memory? How can artifacts and cultural objects work to preserve exposed and environmentally ill communities’ stories in the broader discursive context? And in what ways can these communities draw on their environmental histories to express their collective memories as a form of health activism?
Methods and analytic approach
To address these research questions, we drew from a number of data sources, including archival materials, in-depth interviews, and media coverage of the case. For this analysis, we examined posts on the Lake Apopka Farmworker Memorial Quilt blog starting from the first post in 2009 through 2019. The blog contains regular posts ranging from one to six posts a month regarding the quilt project, toxic tours, and other events held or attended by the FWAF. The FWAF describes itself on their website as: “a statewide, grassroots, community-based, non-profit, farmworker membership organization with over 10,000 Haitian, Hispanic, and African American members and five offices in the state of Florida, working for social and environmental justice with farmworkers” (FWAF, n.d.). The blog is maintained by the FWAF and contains anonymous posts from the organization, farmworkers, and participants in FWAF activities. Posts often included pictures and videos along with narratives regarding organizational events and initiatives. We also drew from several sources of archival materials from the Zellwood Historical Society about the history of the Lake Apopka area, the legacy of the muck farms, and the buyout of the farms in 1996. The main volunteer for the Zellwood Historical Society gave us access to the archives and materials, as well as helped to connect us with previous farm owners and other agricultural stakeholders. In addition, we reviewed numerous videos, books, and documentaries related to the case to provide additional context for our analysis.
We also conducted 36 interviews with a variety of stakeholders involved in this case. Initial respondents were identified using purposeful sampling with the help of our key informant with the Farmworkers Association of Florida. We then used snowball sampling to conduct additional interviews with farmworkers, their family members, politicians, medical professionals, and other salient outreach professionals and activists. The interviews ranged from 20 minutes to 2 hours. The population of farmworkers most impacted by pesticide exposures and illness in the community were Black women in the Lake Apopka area. Our interviews focused primarily on these women and their family members. A semi-structured interview guide was used to guide our conversations with participants. The interview guide included a series of questions intended to give participants space to discuss their background, experiences with the muck farms, health experiences, and their perceptions of and experiences with the case. All interviews were recorded and transcribed.
Newspaper coverage of the health of Lake Apopka, muck farm buyout, and farmworker health issues provided insight into the conflict surrounding the health of the farmworkers. We examined several local and regional newspapers and media outlets including the Orlando Sentinel, Orlando Weekly, WUFT News, and The Iguana. Much of this data was retrieved from the Rollins College archival library, which has dedicated space to newspaper articles for the FWAF. We also conducted internet searches for additional articles focused on Lake Apopka, the muck farm buyout, and the FWAF. In addition, the FWAF granted us access to their archives of newspaper coverage, which is primarily focused on the buyout.
We approached data analysis with focused coding supplemented with triangulation of additional contextual data. Blog posts and interview data were analyzed using a line-by-line approach, beginning with a theoretically grounded investigation of the data. We utilized an open axial approach that allowed us to examine the data for pre-developed themes, while allowing flexibility for the discovery of unanticipated themes to emerge from each of these data sets. Our coding process was done iteratively to result in a refined set of codes, which included the use of cultural artifacts, space, and storytelling in the farmworkers’ memory activism. Taken together, these data provided insights into the ways in which the Lake Apopka farmworkers created cultural objects representative of their collective memories of environmental exposures and illnesses, as well as how they translated these experiences and their cultural and environmental histories into a cohesive collective memory.
Collective memory and pesticide exposures in the case of the Lake Apopka farmworkers
Analysts have highlighted the role of collective memory in shaping group identity, validating lived experiences, and interpreting shared realities over time (Cunningham et al., 2010; Halbwachs, 1992; Heersmink, 2023; Olick, 1999; Olick and Robbins, 1998). Moreover, as we discussed above, the development and maintenance of collective memory is a dynamic and subjective enterprise that can either reinforce or challenge dominant narratives about history (Guenther, 2012; Weedon and Jordan, 2012). The results of our analysis highlight the important role that collective memory plays in cases of environmental exposure and illness, especially in cases where there is a significant time lag between contact with hazards and the emergence of symptoms. In the case of the Lake Apopka farmworkers and the FWAF, not only did they jointly make sense of the connections between their exposures and illness and death within their community, but they also drew on their collective memories to raise awareness about their situation and garner support for their resulting illnesses.
Our research builds on previous work regarding activism and pesticides in several ways (see Alkon and Agyeman, 2011; Alkon and Guthman, 2017; Harrison, 2008, 2011). Specifically, we found that the farmworkers used their collective memories of their agricultural labor, exposures to pesticides, and the health effects in three ways. First, we detail how the farmworkers used cultural artifacts and folk art as a form of communicative collective memory activism. Specifically, they created and showcased memorial quilts to illustrate and validate their histories working on the muck farms, their exposures to pesticides in their work and homes, and to commemorate those who had passed away from pesticide-related illnesses. Second, the farmworkers and FWAF also utilized the space that once housed the muck farms to lead toxic tours for students, residents, and other interested groups as a challenge to dominant narratives surrounding their illness claims. And third, our analysis highlights how the farmworkers utilized narrative commemorations of their collective memories to cement their legacy regarding their exposures, illnesses, and their stories of survival.
Cultural artifacts as communicative collective memory activism
Although the contamination around and within Lake Apopka has been well documented and ecological restoration attempts have been monumental, farmworkers who were exposed to agricultural chemicals during their time working on the muck farms received little meaningful attention and no recompense or medical care for their conditions. Starting in the early 2000s, the former muck farm workers and their families began to notice patterns of illness in their communities, including kidney failure, heart disease, and higher than normal rates of lupus.
The FWAF saw the plight of the farmworkers in Central Florida and collaborated with them to attract attention and resources for their health concerns in several ways. One of the most visible ways the farmworkers drew on their collective memories of their time working on the muck farms was the use of folk art to raise awareness about the situation in the Lake Apopka farmworker communities. Previous literature has underscored the role of cultural artifacts such as folk art, music, and drama in maintaining collective memories over time (see Armstrong and Crage, 2006; Capozzola, 2002; Olick and Robbins, 1998). In addition, these objects can be analyzed to discover groups’ cultural connections and identities, especially as they connect to specific events or experiences. In this case, the FWAF and former farmworkers initiated a quilt project known as the Lake Apopka Farmworker Memorial Quilt Project. The farmworkers and their families began to craft squares for the quilt in order to memorialize those who had passed away and to garner attention from politicians and other elite stakeholders. Ultimately, 64 squares for the quilt were sewn, necessitating the creation of two quilts, which were known as the Red Quilt and the Blue Quilt. In essence, the quilts both represented the farmworkers’ histories and memories of their farm work, and they served as a tactic to validate their claims. In an interview, one farmworker outreach professional who participated in the quilt project explained the origins: I mean the community members were tired. They felt like people had made promises, they’d gotten their hopes up, nothing ever went anywhere and they were tired. And people were dying. And that's when some folks were saying, “You know we’re going to funerals. Five, six, seven, ten funerals every weekend.” And so, they had the idea of the quilt. So, the idea came up around 2006 or ’07. It wasn’t until 2008 that we actually started. The community would not accept this, especially when they saw their friends and family members getting sick and even dying. Thus, was born the idea of the Lake Apopka Farmworker Memorial Quilt Project. With a lot of hard work and commitment from former Lake Apopka farmworkers from Apopka and Indiantown, it has become a reality. The quilts were created to honor the lives of the farmworkers who have been exposed to the pesticides and to keep alive their history. The artwork of each individual square weaves the personal stories, tragedies, and small victories together to speak about the environmental injustices at Lake Apopka. The Lake Apopka farmworker leaders continue to use the quilts to both raise awareness among student and church groups about environmental justice and their community, and as a tool to press their case with state and local decision makers to address the health and environmental problems facing their community members. The quilts were designed with input from the survivors, and offer broad hints at just how the workers and pesticide came in contact: leafy greens, bare hands, lots of fishing going on, a bag of DDT, scraps of clothing representing the pesticide imbued clothing of some workers, workers working in mud, crop dusters.
Another blog post describes one specific square that was designed to illustrate how farmworkers who had children with them in the fields during spraying—a common experience—dressed to protect their children from the chemicals showering from overhead: In the square, [woman's name] is depicted wearing a large blue dress that was functional in more ways than one … Large farm dresses were also used as a protective cover for children who often accompanied their mothers to the fields for work. Crop dusters which sprayed the fields with pesticides and other chemicals did not discriminate against the farmworkers or their children—they were sprayed along with the crops. To protect their children, mothers hid kids underneath the skirts of their dresses.
Second, we found that these cultural artifacts served as objects of collective remembrance and recognition. The squares represented a memorialization of community members that had passed away. In this way, the quilt project was also a source of empowerment and healing for the farmworker communities around Lake Apopka, as noted in this blog entry: Is there still a need to address health care for the farmworkers on Lake Apopka? Yes, but the creation of the quilts has given the community a voice and a message that they didn’t have before. And, it has been a way for members to turn their pain into folk art that memorializes the ones they love. Validation is what the community wants. The quilts are one way to validate their lives and their contributions to our society. She [participants’ mother] died last year. She was sick. She had a hole in her heart. She was diabetic. She was on dialysis … I went two or three times [participating in displaying the quilt] and then I had to quit. I said, “All right these people see how they treat Americans! People who put food on their table!” When we was out in those fields, we put food on America's table for many years.
Another blog post highlights the ongoing loss and grief that the Lake Apopka farmworker communities have experienced, which is represented in the quilt projects: [Name] is the fourth former Lake Apopka farmworker and community member who has passed away this year. Their passing makes the importance and significance of the Lake Apopka Memorial Quilt Project that much more poignant. We will continue to share the quilts and the stories of the people in whose memory they were created, even as we keep the spirits and stories of the farmworkers alive.
Many farmworker participants noted the importance of the quilt in the context of honoring the memories of those the community had lost to pesticide-related illnesses. This aspect of the quilt was particularly significant given the ongoing lack of recognition and aid from politicians and policymakers. Although the quilts did not garner the resources needed for farmworkers to manage their illnesses, they served as a permanent remembrance of those that had passed away and the communities’ collective memories of the injustices leading to their deaths: The idea for the quilts came not long after their fourth grant proposal [for a scientific study of sick community members] was turned down, and [name] heard one member of the community remark that she’d gone to 10 funerals that week. “At least, if nothing else, honor them, recognize them … keep their memories alive,” she said.
Third, the quilt project served as a source of validation that allowed farmworkers to permanently preserve their collective memories. The project gave farmworkers a voice and a mechanism for communicating their histories in the context of their environmental illnesses. Not only was it a way to garner attention from policymakers, but it served as a mechanism to ensure their story was told to as broad an audience as possible. The magnitude and importance of the quilt project was illustrated in this blog post: [The Quilt Project] means a great deal to the community, as it validates their life experiences, their work, their contributions, and the beautiful quilts that the community made to raise awareness about their issues. With this blog, the story of the Lake Apopka farmworkers is being shared far and wide across the United States with other environmental justice communities and individuals interested in farmworkers and EJ issues can now learn about what happened at Lake Apopka and about the importance of protecting farmworkers from pesticide exposure. This is such an important opportunity to let others know about the consequences of chronic pesticide exposure and about empowering a community to create folk art to tell their stories to others.
The quilt project served as a grassroots activist tactic to gain attention from politicians and the medical community. We argue that the quilts were a way of making the farmworkers’ localized and seemingly isolated collective memories political. The quilts were an attempt at getting people to listen, understand, and to instigate action that would help sick farmworkers. One blog post noted the political nature of the quilt making process this way: Having received no medical support from any level of government, [name] and her friends are now in the process of making a quilt to commemorate the time they and their families spent providing the country with fresh fruits and vegetables. They hope the project may bring a little attention to their plight and perhaps spur politicians into action. “We’ve been begging and begging for medical attention,” she said. “But no one listens.”
Although the farmworkers lived adjacent to significant urban hubs in Florida, their story remained shrouded and cut off from the people who could do something about the injustices they lived through and were living through. Showcasing the quilts became a way to raise awareness about the significant issues in their community for people who may not have heard their story, as noted in this blog post: The Lake Apopka Farmworker Memorial Quilts were on display for the two days of the Florida A & M University Law School Fourth Annual Environmental Justice Symposium in downtown Orlando, FL November 7th and 8th. The colorful Quilt display not only served as a bright welcome to the students, speakers, presenters and participants joining the symposium, but in addition it drew attention to the very real and ongoing environmental justice community that lies just miles away from the city center and from the largest tourist destination in the world.
The quilts were also displayed in city halls, Martin Luther King Jr. Day parades, NAACP conventions, environmental justice conventions, libraries, and museums. The Memorial Quilt Blog described the travels of the quilt: Today, the quilts have been viewed by thousands of Floridians and exhibited all across the state, including in Orlando City Hall, the Orange County Public Library, the Alachua County Public Library and the African American Museum of Art. This has helped spread awareness of the injustices the farmworkers face, and has helped build attention from the state legislature, which has been working to propose legislation which would provide long-term health care services for the affected residents surrounding the lake.
Toxic tours: reclaiming space and collective memory
While scholarship has investigated the ways in which collective memories are connected to space (Anguelovski, 2013; Sadowski, 2020; Truc, 2011), comparatively few studies have analyzed how collective memory and space can be leveraged as a form of health activism. Our research attends to this gap in the literature by investigating the ways in which people who are environmentally ill can leverage both shared memories and geographic space to make claims about illness and exposures. Specifically, our findings indicated that the farmworkers and the FWAF utilized the space around Lake Apopka to make their collective memories of toxic exposures and environmental illness an authentic and compelling narrative for various audiences. Specifically, they offered “toxic tours” of the spaces where the muck farms used to be located to provide a sense of the broader environment. These tours also served as an opportunity to share farmworkers’ oral narratives regarding the conditions they were exposed to and the resulting health issues in their communities. Numerous posts on the Memorial Quilt Blog gave detailed descriptions of the tours and the impacts they had on the participants, as seen in this post: They toured Lake Apopka in 3 vans on Friday, Jan 18, 2012, a chilly, windy day. Former Lake Apopka farmworkers and community activists, [farmworker name] and [farmworker name], accompanied the visitors and shared stories of their experiences, activities, problems from their years in the fields around Lake Apopka. They answered the visitors’ many questions and vividly described their former work conditions which helped to draw for us all a picture of the lake area when it was still farmland.
By incorporating both the shared memories of the farmworkers and conducting the toxic tours in the spaces where these injustices occurred, these experiences allowed for meaningful participation and compelling experiential learning for those involved. For example, the leaders of the tours gave college students opportunities to engage in agricultural labor for a few hours. This experience gave weight and meaning to the farmworkers’ stories about their time in the muck fields, and was especially eye-opening for students who had been far removed from the agricultural industry, as noted in this post: A very special group of Rollins College students in Central Florida spent their weekend in an immersion experience to learn more about the ethnically diverse, low-income community just 10 miles north of their college campus and to learn more about the realities for farmworkers living and working in this community. In the hot Florida sun, they spent Saturday morning April 6th in the vegetable fields near Lake Apopka, pulling weeds alongside the farmworkers who were working the land that weekend. Trying to keep pace with the workers gave the students a taste of what it must be like to do this back-breaking work all day every day, instead of just for the four hours that they spent in the fields that day … [Later] The tour took them back to the fields that they had just worked in earlier in the day, but with a new perspective that of the unseen dangers related to pesticide contamination and the hazardous living and working conditions for farmworkers. Later, along the tour, the group stopped at Magnolia Park in Apopka, where they sat together in a circle and posed deep and probing questions that lead to both an engaging discussion and new and greater insights into issues of social and environmental justice … Toxic tours are intense experiences that leave participants with new questions and a new way of seeing the world of farmworkers and the food that they produce for us to eat.
Other blog posts noted the impacts of the toxic tours, noting how hearing the farmworkers’ descriptions and memories of the height of the muck farm era interwove the disastrous environmental impacts with the devastating effects on human health in the farmworker communities: The farmworker explained the life of the farmworkers who worked the croplands of Lake Apopka's muck shores over a fifty-year period. Human mismanagement of the fragile ecosystem led to the decline of (early eutrophication) the lake, death of valuable wildlife, and the accidental poisoning of the humans working the land. The highlight of the tour, though, came at the end, when the group stopped at the home of former Lake Apopka farmworker, [name], to hear firsthand her personal stories about growing up a farmworker and working on the vegetable fields of Lake Apopka. The windy day, the drama of the Lake Apopka story, learning about issues of farmworkers, human trafficking, environmental degradation affecting human health, and more, all leant poignancy to the day.
Importantly, the toxic tours focused not just on collective memories of the farmworkers’ past histories, but also connected what had happened around Lake Apopka to current issues such as climate change and ongoing efforts in the environmental justice movement. In addition, the toxic tour also connected the lived experiences of the farmworkers with positive messages of hope and positive collaborative work to utilize space to ensure a safe and sustainable future, as noted in this description from a tour participant: … many members were moved by experiencing the ‘up close and personal’ stories of the Lake Apopka farmworkers and by seeing the former Lake Apopka farmlands and learning of their history. While the Toxic Tour can be very sobering and even disturbing, the final stop on the Tour was to the Apopka Community Garden, where the work of the community members in growing their own food was greatly and especially appreciated by this group of participants who are devoted to seeing alternative food systems grow and thrive.
Narrative commemorations: preserving the legacy of exposure, illness, and survival
Our research builds on prior work regarding narrative commemorations—or “relatively informal presentations that establish links to the past” (Gongaware, 2010: 217) by illustrating how environmentally ill communities can utilize these commemorations to both raise awareness about exposures as well as work to preserve their stories in broader discursive contexts. In this case, the farmworkers used storytelling as a way of connecting their lived experiences with the communities around them, giving a face and a voice to the history of contamination and environmental illness. In this case, the narrative commemorations took the form of illness narratives (see Riessman, 2003; Shostak and Fox, 2012) that made sense of the farmworkers’ experiences and the health impacts of their exposures to pesticides. In one example, students were so moved when they listened to a farmworker's story secondhand because she was in the hospital with pesticide-related health issues, they volunteered to make her a get-well card: In one class period, a student kindly suggested they make a card for [farmworker name] in the hospital. The suggestion manifested a beautiful, colorful card that many students decorated and signed. [The FWAF] delivered the card to [farmworker name] in the hospital and was moved to see how much it meant for [farmworker name] to receive a card from a group of kids that wanted to lift her spirits. We always enjoy sharing stories, knowledge, and the beautiful quilts, and it becomes even more meaningful when we get so very much in return. A lot of times when I was being interviewed by the TV or radio stations … I would always talk about our exposure. That's my feeling, I wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but I just expressed my feelings that I was exposed from my mother by being carried by her when she was pregnant out there. And I think I really think that … But I do what I can. I go around and I talk and tell my story.
These commemorations served to shift the narrative from a story of distant victimhood to a story of real people who lived through the muck farm era and the years that followed. For example, during a presentation on the history of the Lake Apopka era, a representative from the FWAF told the story of the farmworker who was currently in the hospital with health complications. A reflection this experience described the impact it had on the students in attendance during the discussion about the presentation: One student asked in awe “you know her?” referring to [farmworker name]. [The FWAF representative] responded that she had known her for 20 years, and a wave of understanding spread across the student's face as she saw that farmworkers were regular people, with friends who cared about them. It is much harder to dismiss someone when they are only one person removed from you. [Farmworker name] ascends to the podium slowly, for her mobility is limited by her multiple health conditions. Speaking before the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights of the Organization of American States (OAS) on September 22nd in Orlando, she details her story of injustice. Her unassuming presence does not prepare you to hear her powerful words. [Farmworker name] speaks out frequently about farmworker rights, and getting justice in her hometown of Apopka. She is a Farmworker Association of Florida member and she works tirelessly for the farmworker community and the community of South Apopka.
Other blog entries detailed how these narrative commemorations and illness narratives impacted and resonated with formal audiences, as seen in this exemplar passage: The session began with a presentation on climate change and the disproportionate impacts felt by low-income communities of color. This set the stage for the first panel, which included former Lake Apopka farmworker and key quilt maker, [farmworker name], as a panelist, addressing the issue of environmental injustice and a brief inside look at the EJ community in the backyard of the tourist attractions area of Central Florida – Lake Apopka and the surrounding communities. Attendees expressed surprise and asked many questions, such that the 15-minute presentation continued for almost half an hour. The Farmworker Association of Florida is very grateful to the NAACP for inviting us to present on the panel and looks forward to a continuing relationship with the organization as we both work to address environmental injustice of farmworkers and of communities of color in the U.S.
Thus, our analysis of this case underscores the effectiveness and impact of drawing on collective memories in the form of narrative commemoration in the context of environmental exposures and illnesses. In this case, the farmworkers’ storytelling was strategically used to preserve the legacy of their work on the muck farms, their exposures to pesticides, and the illnesses that were rampant in their communities. In an interview, a social justice advocate explained how the storytelling work of the FWAF and the farmworkers was ensuring that the collective memories of the farmworkers would not be lost to history as the muck farm era fades into the past: But I also think there has to be more done. In terms of educating people, I think the Farm Workers Association [of Florida] does a great job with that. Just like educating students. But I think more so with the community itself. I think these generations are growing up and stories are being lost, these stories are not being kept and circulated within the community. Usually, it's really college students that don’t have a connection to this community. I think it would do a lot of justice with the people and their grandchildren who were affected and even children who are affected by this issue [to] have that knowledge. Because a lot of them don’t.
Our analysis underscores the value that the FWAF and the farmworkers placed on using their stories and collective memories not just to preserve the legacy of their lived experiences, but also as a cautionary tale for future generations, as noted by this activist on the Memorial Quilt Blog: It's time that everyone found out about the history of Apopka. It's our job to inform as many people as we can about what happened to Lake Apopka, and also to inform them about the bad conditions that the former farmworkers and farmworkers today have to work in. We hope that by telling more people, we could get more supporters to help us fight for justice and make a change in this world!
In an interview, a FWAF representative explained how the increasing mortality of the farmworkers in the Lake Apopka community served as a barrier to establishing scientific evidence connecting their health conditions with pesticide exposures. However, they focused on using storytelling to keep the farmworkers’ claims relevant and meaningful to others without definitive proof of exposure-illness connections: So where we’re at right now is basically trying to preserve the legacy of the Lake Apopka farm workers. They didn’t get any health care help. They didn’t get any big studies to look at … the UF did a small blood study but there's no funding. They put an application in for funding to expand that too and it didn’t get funded. And even if it were to get funded now, there's not enough people left to make enough people to get a significant cohort of people to make it scientifically valid.
Ultimately, the farmworkers and the FWAF argued that they would continue to spread the story of the Lake Apopka farmworkers until they received the recognition they deserved, even if it did not come with recompense. They described their motivation to talk to everyone who would listen about their collective memories, histories, and lives, as one advocate explained in an interview: Well hopefully somewhere down the road, the issue of the Lake Apopka farm workers will have its day, and in the meantime our job is to make sure it's captured. So that's why I’m talking to you. That's part of your job too.
Discussion and conclusions
We approached the case of pesticide exposure and collective memory work among farmworkers in the Lake Apopka region of Florida with three overarching questions. First, we asked how exposed communities can translate their illness experiences into a cohesive collective memory. This question builds on prior research in that we wanted to uncover the mechanisms by which environmentally ill communities—and specifically those affected by pesticides—collectively remember and understand their exposures in the past, their illnesses in the present, and their shared conceptualizations about the preservation of their memories in the future. While Adams et al. (2018) and Messer et al. (2015) established the importance of attending to collective memory in analyses of long-term contamination in rural communities, our research builds upon and extends this work by investigating the specific ways in which exposed communities can leverage space and culture as forms of resistance.
Our analysis indicates that the farmworkers utilized several techniques to process and express their collective memories of farm work and, importantly, their exposures to pesticides. This research specifically investigated the ways in which these communities can create artifacts and cultural objects that represent their collective memories of exposure and illness. In this case, the farmworkers worked together with the FWAF to create two memorial quilts, which served to both memorialize those that the community had lost to pesticide-related illnesses as well as to help to tell their stories to outside audiences such as students, teachers, community members, and politicians. Each square of the quilt represented family members, friends, and loved ones as the farmworkers remembered them engaged in farm work and other activities that led to their exposures. This form of folk art provided a visual anchor of their collective story about their lives as individuals as well as a community (see Armstrong and Crage, 2006; Capozzola, 2002; Gongaware, 2010; Houston, 2013; Houston and Vasudevan, 2018).
We also asked how exposed communities can utilize their cultural and environmental histories to express their collective memories as a form of health activism. Previous work has explored the role of collective memory in activism and protest (e.g. Gongaware, 2010; Kubal and Becerra, 2014). Yet comparatively little attention has been paid to how collective memories are constructed and articulated in cases of environmental exposures, especially in cases where time and space are particularly relevant. Our research adds to this broader conversation regarding collective memory and environmental healthy by revealing two overlapping, performative techniques that environmentally ill communities can leverage in their efforts to legitimize their claims and ask for redress. People can experience what we term removed remembering, or instances where people have memories of events that they were not present for through the communication of collective memory by others (also see Harris et al., 2008). In this case, the farmworkers and the FWAF utilized the space surrounding Lake Apopka to give toxic tours for a variety of audiences. The purpose of these tours was to give participants a sense of the agricultural history of the area and to provide a venue for farmworkers to tell their stories. Our results indicated that there was a pervasive concern in the farmworker community that their stories would be lost to time and others would never become aware about the injustices that had occurred. The farmworkers utilized both the toxic tours and storytelling as ways to develop a purposive legacy collective memory to ensure their stories would not fade over time and to serve as a cautionary tale for other farmworkers and the agricultural industry at large.
We argue that this research also provides critical insight into the dynamic ways that collective memories of exposure and illness experiences overlap and intersect throughout the past, present, and future. In cases of past environmental exposures, we argue that collective memories are overlayed with understandings and remembrances of exposure and illness. In this case, the memories of pesticide exposures were housed in the past and expressed through quilt making, toxic tours in former agricultural areas, and storytelling. However, these past-rooted memories also informed other memories of environmental illness both past and present. Drawing on memories of exposure, the farmworkers were able to process, understand, and explain the history of illnesses as well as their current illness experiences. These collective memories also serve as a lens for remembering people who have died from pesticide-related illnesses in the past and present and who will pass away from these illnesses in the future.
In this way, our research underscores the significance of collective memory in cases of contamination where there is significant lag between exposure and illness. Collective memories, and the ways in which they are expressed and developed over time, have powerful analytic utility for understanding how communities recognize and interpret exposures and environmental illness. We believe our work forges pathways for future research. Our analysis focused on a case of pesticide exposure among farmworkers in the southern United States. More work is needed to understand the interplay between collective memory and cases of contamination and exposure in different cultural contexts, time periods, and types of toxicants. In addition, questions remain about cases where collective memories fail to form in cases of localized exposures and illnesses.
Highlights
This research investigates how communities can create artifacts and cultural objects that represent their collective memories of exposure and illness
We found that exposed communities can use performative techniques to connect their lived experiences with those outside of their community
In cases of past environmental exposures, collective memories are overlayed with understandings and remembrances of exposure and illness
Our research underscores the significance of collective memory in contamination cases where there is significant lag between exposure and illness
We show that collective memories have powerful analytic utility for understanding how communities recognize and interpret exposures and environmental illness
Footnotes
Declaration of conflicting interests
The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The authors received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.