8 Thursday, May 28, 2020 The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com MICHIGAN IN COLOR Color as a symptom of the coronavirus As the spread of the coronavirus exponentially increases by the day, so does its toll with 1,678,843 total cases and 99,031 deaths in the U.S. alone. Despite making up only 13.4 percent of this nation’s population, the Black population is seen to be disproportionately victim of more than 50% of reported cases, 33 percent of hospitalizations and approximately 60 percent of the deaths from the pandemic. Though these reports are often deemed related to health comorbidities prevently experienced amongst the Black community, the social inequities experienced by race are more to blame. A recent study conducted by Sutter Health Center for Health Systems Research expressed in their retrospective cohort analysis of COVID-19 that “African Americans had 2.7 times the odds of hospitalization compared with IZZA AHMED-GHANI MiC Staff Writer GRAPHIC BY HIBAH CHUGHTAI What’s in a name? PRISHA GROVER MiC Staff Writer The video “Substitute Teacher” by comedians Keegan-Michael Key and Jordan Peele (often referred to simply as Key and Peele) put a hilarious spin on the very common experience of students who have had their names distorted by their educational leaders. This lighthearted video is a reference to a much bigger issue in which people have developed a certain apathy when it comes to the pronunciation of names which appear unconventional to them. I was raised being taught that my name represented my ties to my culture and role in the world — a belief quite common among Southeast Asian communities. I decided to ask some of my friends about their names, and what having that name means. Jeevin Amrit, pronounced Jee- vin, means “the king of life” Nishanth, pronounced Nih- shaa-nth, means “peace at dawn” Namratha, pronounced Numm- ruh-tha, means “modesty and humility” Amrita, pronounced Uh-mrith- uh, means “nectar of immortality” Inaya, pronounced In-ah-yah, Read more at michigandaily.com non-Hispanic white patients.” While findings indicated that age (39 years+), sex (male), income status (low-income) and insurance status (Medicaid, self-pay, or no insurnace) did increase the odds of hopsitalization, race independently influenced susceptibilty to hospital admission because of COVID-19. While the public seems to be surprised by the health disparities presented during this pandemic, the health burden as a person of color in America is anything but unordinary. The most prevalent health inequities experienced in this country are perpetuated by the systematic barriers that racism has inspired. The color of your skin ultimately warrants restrictions in health security to attain this country’s unalienable rights of life, liberty and pursuit of happiness. Race and ethnicity are crucially related to access to care, resources to treatment and health outcomes defined in social determinants of health. Social determinants of health express the everyday social and physical conditions in which people play, work and live. According to HealthyPeople.gov, these factors express how individual health outcomes intersect with underlying issues that stem from economic stability, education, neighborhood and built environment, health and healthcare and social and community contexts. It standardizes the quality of living people are able to achieve and afford. The historically racist subjugations in the foundations that this country was founded upon leaves communities of color disenfranchised to suffer worse health outcomes. The health outcomes of marginalized communities presenting at the top of COVID’s food chain are driven by poverty and food insecurity and bisected by housing. The majority of the 13.4 million low-income American families are racial or ethnic minorities: Four million (30 percent) are hispanic, 2.9 million (22 percent) are black, and about 800,000 (6 percent) are other nonwhites. According to the CDC, these families make up the majority of overpopulated American metropolitans due to institutionalized residential housing segregation and often live in multigenerational households with poor access to resources to drive quality of living. Racial and ethnic minorities often live in these conditions not as a means of personal choice or financial means, but by legislatively deliberate racial de facto segregation and redlining that affect residential housing and school systems, especially from the 1950s to 1970s. Though many people are unaware of the impacts legislative discrimination has played in the history of this country, it still plays a major part of current standards of health and implicitly influenced by private discrimination in real estate, banks, clothing, food and more. These households, in which the majority of essential workers arise from, are often subjected to food swamps, poorer physical housing and neighborhood infrastructures, limited occupational mobility and opportunity, and higher rates of stress. This then plays into increased prevalence and comorbidities with higher rates of obesity, asthma rates, hypertension, diabetes and other health conditions due to poorer housing conditions and access to care. Therefore, the overall risk of infection is not only more prevalent in communities of color, but these communities also have pre-existing health disadvantages that have suppressed their immune systems. While the essential work of racial and ethnic minorities might currently carry the nation, it is at the cost of their lives. means “blessing from Allah” During this conversation, many of them mentioned that their names are often mispronounced and although they make initial attempts to correct those who falsify their identity, they often fall complacent as a result of the person’s unwilling tongue. My name means “a blessing from God,” and while the common mispronunciation of it as Pree- shah doesn’t change the meaning, I’ve always felt that choosing to pronounce my name incorrectly disregards its origin. I was given my name because my parents struggled to have kids for several years after having my older brother and suffered many complications throughout their pregnancy with me, thus when I was born, they felt that God had blessed them. The Sanskrit word “Prisha” is meant to give hope and warmth, and the way I pronounce it is the way my parents gave it to me. As my friend Jeevin says, “There’s a certain pride that you carry when you know your name has such a powerful meaning … it is a reminder of my roots.” Followers of Hinduism will often name their children after important figures in Hindu epics. For example, the name Arjun is the name of one of the heroes of the Mahabharata and one of the five Pandava brothers. He is said to be a symbol of clarity, loyalty and often won the favor of the gods. When someone names their child Arjun, they are paying respect to his namesake and hoping their child will be a testament to Arjun’s strong character. This is no different than someone naming their child after the Angel Gabriel or the Prophet Muhammad. Despite these sacred meanings, so many people resort to pronunciations or nicknames which are easier for the American tongue to pronounce. This is not about shortening one’s name just to a cute friendly nickname, but is about the obligation some feel to change what they are called in an act of complacency for other’s lack of effort. An example of this is people named “Prathik” (pronounced Prah-theek) going by the name “Peter.” Read more at michigandaily.com