“Nos Están Matando Uno a Uno Nuestro Líderes”

This article first appeared online in English on The Progressive’s website

Mientras mueren lxs defensorxs de los bosques hondureños, en Nueva York se abre el juicio de narcotráfico para el hermano del presidente del país, Juan Antonio Hernández.

Por: Meghan Krausch

“Nos están matando uno a uno nuestros líderes” dijo el mensaje de texto reenviado. El mensaje venía de alguien de la comunidad indígena Tolupán de El Portillo, en la zona rural de Honduras.

La semana anterior, yo había propuesto un artículo sobre nueve personas indígenas en HondurasAlisson Pineda, Wendy Pineda, José María Pineda, Ángela Murillo, Celso Cabrera, Óscar Cabrera, Óscar Vieda, Sergio Ávila, and Ramón Matute, quienes se enfrentan cargos penales por defender su territorio ancestral.

Antes de que pudiera terminar de escribir el ensayo, otro miembro de la familia había sido asesinado.

El 27 de septiembre de 2019, Milgen Idán Soto Ávila fue encontrado asesinado en el mismo lugar donde INMARE, una empresa maderera privada que actualmente está procesando a sus familiares por protestar contra la tala, trabajaba.

Milgen era un joven platicador e inquisitivo de veintinueve años, tenía una presencia constante en el Campamento Digno en Defensa del Territorio Ancestral, establecido por miembrxs de la comunidad que trabajan con el Movimiento Amplio por la Dignidad y Justicia (o MADJ). El objetivo del campamento es parar la tala de la empresa en el bosque de pinos que ha pertenecido a la tribu Tolupán desde que fueron reasentados en esta área, San Francisco de Locomapa, en el departamento de Yoro, en 1864.

Recuerdo bien a Milgen Soto, no solo porque tuvimos una larga conversación, sino también porque cada vez que estoy en Honduras miro con atención a todxs y me preocupo por quién podría estar ausente la próxima vez que regrese. Milgen era un compañero comprometido con grandes ideas sobre cómo crear una sociedad mejor, y compartimos una animada conversación sobre la política global y las contradicciones de sus experiencias en la pobreza extrema a pesar de su derecho histórico a la tierra.

En mayo, escribí sobre Ramón Matute y la ceremonia de levantamiento de los espíritus de su hermano y su padre, asesinados a principios de este año. Poco después de la publicación de este artículo, Ramón y otros ocho miembrxs de la comunidad fueron arrestados y ahora enfrentan cargos penales. ¿Su crimen? “Obstaculazición del plan de manejo forestal.”

A nivel internacional, más de 100 organizaciones firmaron una carta de solidaridad con los defensores de la tierra “condenando la criminalización de las acciones legítimas de protesta”. Aunque Milgen no fue arrestado, fue denunciado formalmente por la empresa maderera.

El 29 de septiembre, antes de haber asimilado completamente la realidad de la muerte de Milgen, recibí noticias del asesinato de otro líder Tolupán. Según los informes, individuos desconocidos le dispararon a Adolfo Redondo. Al principio, esta información fue difícil de confirmar porque, como lo expresó el mensaje de texto de El Portillo, “estamos incomunicados. No hay energía en la zona, no hay Internet”.

Milgen fue la tercera persona asesinada en la misma pequeña comunidad contando sólo este año, y la novena asesinada en el conflicto por la tala desde 2013. Sin embargo, el estado hondureño no ha ofrecido las protecciones requeridas por el derecho internacional, ni tampoco ha seguido procedimientos judiciales penales básicos.

Salomón y Samael Matute fueron asesinados en febrero, pero “no hay ningún avance sustancial en la investigación”, dice Mario Iraheta, representante de las y los Tolupánes en el proceso de medidas cautelares y miembro del equipo legal de MADJ. “Los autores materiales [del crimen] siguen libres en la zona, sin una orden de aprehensión”.

En cambio, los recursos del gobierno se están utilizando para criminalizar a los propios defensores de la tierra, que son todos beneficiarios de medidas cautelares de la Comisión Interamericana de Derechos Humanos.


Si bien es un tema muy mediático, Brasil no es el único país donde los bosques están en llamas. En una visita a San Francisco de Locomapa en abril, el humo de los incendios forestales fue tan grave, que todo un grupo de observadores internacionales del Colectivo de Solidaridad de Acción Permanente por la Paz, incluyéndome, se sintieron enfermos después de una sola tarde allí.

No está claro exactamente quién está prendiendo los incendios, que siempre parecen estar furiosos, pero la salud del bosque y de las y los Tolupánes está sufriendo. Los miembros de la comunidad dicen que sufren de una variedad de enfermedades respiratorias.

Una comunicación de 30 de septiembre lanzado por MADJ preguntaba: “¿Quiénes son los asesinos del pueblo Tolupán?”

“Invitamos a la población hondureña organizada y no organizada a identificar los actores intelectuales de la dictadura, de la violencia, de la desigualdad, del empobrecimiento, de quienes despojan y asesinan,” dice la comunicación. “Y a superar la clásica pregunta que busca ubicar a los autores materiales y a transformarla en ¿quién o quiénes ordenaron y consintieron sus asesinatos?” 

Los cargos contra los miembros del Movimiento no son un caso aislado. Los defensores del medio ambiente de Guapinol han estado detenidos en prisión preventiva durante un mes debido a su oposición a un proyecto minero.

“Los procesos judiciales, junto con la represión activa por parte de las fuerzas de seguridad del gobierno revelan el compromiso de proteger los intereses corporativos en vez de los derechos humanos en Honduras”, dicen en una entrevista por correo electrónico Corie Welch y Alejandra Rincón, las coordinadoras del Programa de Honduras del Colectivo de Solidaridad de Acción Permanente por la Paz. “Bajo el régimen que llegó al poder en 2009, hemos visto una colaboración entre las élites poderosas y el gobierno de Honduras, ampliando las concesiones para la extracción y utilizando la policía y el ejército para hacer cumplir la construcción de estos proyectos”.

La ironía es indiscutible. Antonio “Tony” Hernández, hermano del presidente Juan Orlando Hernández, se enfrenta a un juicio en el Tribunal de Distrito Federal de Manhattan, acusado por el Departamento de Justicia de los Estados Unidos de narcotráfico, lavado de dinero y la coordinación de asesinato. El juicio comienza el 2 de octubre y el presidente Hernández es identificado como “co conspirador 4” junto con el ex presidente hondureño Porfirio “Pepe” Lobo.

Ambos, los dos únicos presidentes que han realizado campañas desde el golpe de estado de 2009 en Honduras, se ha alegado en documentos judiciales haber utilizado fondos de narcotráfico para sus campañas, aunque ninguno de los dos ha sido acusado en Estados Unidos.

Honduras no es simplemente un “estado fallido“; está activamente deformado por intereses empresariales e internacionales. El propio gobierno, enjuiciado por corrupción y narcotráfico, está lanzando cargos criminales contra algunos de sus más precarios ciudadanos por protestar en defensa de su propio bosque. Mientras tanto, los Estados Unidos mantiene una relación fuerte con la administración hondureña.

Los hondureños se movilizan dentro de Honduras. Pero la realidad del imperialismo en Centroamérica significa que el problema de los hondureños sea global. Cambiar la realidad política en su país requerirá un fuerte movimiento de solidaridad en los Estados Unidos. Mientras el gobierno de los Estados Unidos y otros regímenes internacionales otorguen legitimidad a Juan Orlando Hernández, puede permanecer en el poder. El caso criminal actual de su hermano es una prueba de esa legitimidad.

José María, un compañero mayor de la comunidad de San Francisco de Locomapa, tiene un dicho favorito: “La sangre de los mártires es la semilla de la libertad”.

Husky Refinery Is Not Our Mayor

Only today I noticed that the Superior Mayor’s office had posted an update on the section of the Douglas County website he had previously designated to be the single place for information on the refinery fire on May 7. The people of Superior are still waiting for a place where we can ask questions about the fire which is not a Facebook page (which leaves people open to being personally attacked) or run by Husky refinery, so I will continue to ask questions here, among other places. The Douglas County website is a one way transmission.

There are several things worth pointing out about this update. One is that it would seem very few people noticed it being posted and that there are reasons for that. For example no one I know who is active in gathering information about the refinery explosion mentioned it at all or had seen it before me. While a single source of information is indeed a very good idea, one has to wonder why new posts are not also announced on the other places the city uses to give information such as its “Jim Paine, Mayor of Superior” or “City of Superior” Facebook pages. While I hate the use of these privately owned sites in general for the dissemination of information, the fact remains that most people have already become reliant on using them since until last week they were the primary source of information. Why not post something that says, “hey I put something new up on the Douglas County website” if getting information to people was the goal?

The much more disturbing thing about this update however is that while on the Douglas County website the update says “Information from City of Superior Mayor’s Office: A summary of the week’s events has been compiled for your reference,” once you open the document it is clear that the entire update was written directly by the Husky Refinery itself and not by Jim Paine or the Mayor’s office at all. I find this to be totally unacceptable and even reprehensible when the role of our elected officials should be to advocate for our community. Sentences such as “we are beginning to clear areas within the facility so we can facilitate cleanup and the next phases of work,” are a pretty good indicator of the authorship of the document. The role, actions, or even name of the city of Superior is not mentioned even once in the document.

The document is also buried on a list of other updates on the Douglas County website, almost all of which are about air quality. As we now know from our own local scientific experts, the major risk is not from the air quality nor has it been since the immediate few days following the fire. What was in the air has traveled into our soil and potentially our water. It’s on the animals and perhaps on ourselves, and our children. It’s hard not to conclude that all of these updates about air quality are little more than a distraction from other more distressing information included even in a report written by Husky itself, which includes answers to some of the questions we asked on May 1.

The section on wildlife reads:

“Protections and deterrents for wildlife have been implemented as part of the facility response. To date there are two known impacts. One resident deer has been identified with oil staining on all four lower legs and one deceased common grackle has been found. The deer is being monitored. A decision has been made not to tranquilize the deer to remove the oil as it is not showing negative impacts. There has been no observed impacts to fish or other aquatic life in the onsite storm water ponds or Newton Creek as a result of the incident. Water monitoring continues.”

Surely we are not supposed to believe that the real concern is one single deer but rather that where there is one, there must be more? And how could a deer covered in oil not be showing negative impacts? This defies the imagination. And what of the bird?

I see here it’s also mentioned that:

“Water samples collected post incident to date are comparable to baseline samples pre-incident under normal refinery operating conditions, with the exception of trace amounts of Perfluoroalkyl Sulfonate (PFAS) – a chemical component found in firefighting foam.”

As we suggested previously, these are part of the same class of chemicals for which 3M just settled an $850 million dollar lawsuit because of the known health risks to humans and aquatic systems. How will the public be informed of the “treatment strategy” which is “being prepared”? Why didn’t Husky already have such a treatment strategy already in place since surely an asphalt fire in a refinery is not such an unlikely emergency? This is one of the questions we have already asked, and to which we received deflective answers from our mayor, leaving me more concerned than ever.

But how is the public ever supposed to trust any of the answers we receive if our mayor is reposting a summary produced by the corporation responsible for almost killing us, and passing it off as if the city and the refinery are one and the same voice?

Protect the Water.pdf

Questions to and from the City of Superior

Public Comments to Superior City Council
May 1, 2018

As a social scientist I have been talking to people and taking notes on their questions and experiences for the last several days since the Husky Refinery explosion on Thursday April 26. This is a list of questions I have heard and compiled from community members who live and work in Superior, many of whom are UW-Superior students. It’s important to note that these are not rhetorical questions, but ones that we are hoping for answers to at some point in the future from the appropriate authority.

  1. Is the site still hot? Are there still fire concerns?
  2. What’s the role of independent scientists in all of this, for verifying tests and getting second opinions? As we know, this is good science.
  3. Where can people go to get their questions answered that isn’t a Facebook page (which leaves them open to being attacked and trolled) and isn’t run by Husky Refinery?
  4. What medical symptoms should people be on the lookout for?
  5. What are the instructions for people who grow food locally, including commercial growers? What compensation will be available for them for these losses?
  6. Where did the particulates end up – in the blast zone, in the plume, where exactly?
  7. How will the city work with UWS to improve their evacuation plan?
  8. Why was UWS ever considered a mustering point?
  9. Why doesn’t the city have a designated shelter and a designated helpline ready to go in the event of an emergency if we have a refinery located in our community?
  10. What about the deer right at the explosion site? And what about the people who eat the deer?
  11. What is the status of Lake Superior? Will it be safe to swim in? And how will we know?
  12. What are Husky’s plans for the future of hydrofluoric acid? What are the city’s plans regarding this risk?
  13. Why are there propane gas tanks located just across the street from the refinery in the first place?
  14. Exactly what tests are being run on the water and soil, and what is the time frame of those tests?
  15. What was the cause of the explosion?
  16. What do repair and reconstruction of the refinery actually look like? Will tanks be patched or replaced?
  17. Perfluorinated Chemicals (PFCs) are found in the foam used to fight the fire at the refinery, and are highly toxic to aquatic systems. In fact 3M recently lost a lawsuit to the state of Minnesota for $850 million dollars. for not disclosing the health risk around the use of these chemicals. What efforts are being used to contain the PFCs and clean it up?
  18. Why isn’t Husky’s own wastewater treatment plant designed to treat the Class B foams needed to put out a fire at Husky’s refinery?

One thing I have learned over the last several days is that lack of information also causes panic.

Photo shows black cloud of billowing smoke with workers walking away toward the camera, and many power lines.

Husky Refinery Explosion close up. Photo by Sheila Lamb.

 

the first few days

On Thursday morning I was in my upstairs office, writing. My house shook around 10 am. I called downstairs to my partner, who ran upstairs. We both thought the other would know what had happened. Had I dropped something really big on the floor? Had a really giant truck passed by? Neither of these seemed to explain why our windows and doors would shake, but we didn’t hear any sirens and nothing else happened, so mildly unsettled, we went back about our business.

I keep thinking about the part of Wormwood where Eric Olson describes Seymour Hirsch walking into the family’s house and announcing, “You must be the most uncurious family in America.”

At 11:30 I received an email from campus with a link to a news story with the first description of the explosion that had taken place at 10 am. The first news reports listed 20 “casualties,” (later revised to 16 injuries), and I immediately noticed that no one on the hours of news coverage or during the press conferences, was using the word Enbridge or mentioning the pipelines which lead to the plant. In fact, like many other people in town, I thought right up until Thursday that Enbridge owned that refinery, based on my impression from driving on the road next to the site. Apparently, Enbridge owns the tanks right across the street which somehow did not appear in any of the coverage.

I got ready to head to campus for my afternoon classes, simultaneously watching TV and checking social media for updates. I was already seeing several people commenting on the good news that no one had died, which seemed far too early to me. There had not yet been a report that they had accounted for all the workers, people had been taken to the hospital with an unknown severity of injuries, and the fire was still going. Soon after there were more explosions, and it was clear the fire was not out.

I arrived to campus a little after 12:30 and the mood was surreal. Apparently on campus the buildings had not shook and most people I talked to had the sense that it was not that serious. At 11:43 AM, the campus alert system sent the following message: “Explosion at the Husky Refinery. Law enforcement has stated that the fire is out. Campus will resume under normal operations,” which must have contributed to this mood.

I found myself wondering how people in Chernobyl had behaved (and also worrying that I was overreacting). I wondered why we weren’t a little more prepared for what to do. I worried that people were so quick to move on and not at all cautious about the air quality. Walking to my 1 pm class I received a text from my partner indicating that talk of evacuations had begun.

When I got to class, I did my job as a professor of sociology and cautioned my students about some of the dangers of happy talk. We discussed the fact that the refinery disaster perhaps concerned us more than we thought. An athlete told us that they had been asked to go in from the soccer field earlier that morning. I tried to find the line between pretending everything was hunky dory, and creating panic. I trusted that if we were evacuated we would certainly know it. We had just been in that classroom during a tornado drill a few weeks earlier, after all, and every device in the room began making alerts, not to mention that human monitors went room to room to make sure everyone had left. I thought if the computer was on in the room it would show an alert, and we all turned our phones face up. I was sure an evacuation of this level would be announced over the loud speaker as well, and I assured my students of this fact.

I cannot now say whether or not I am ashamed of this rather minimal trust I had in the institution to inform us of what was happening. I feel like a fool who should have known better, but on the other hand, these situations for good reason cannot be left up to individual faculty members to decide. We do not have all the information and should not need to gather it. We were put in an awful position. I heard from several faculty who said they held class because they were worried that if they didn’t their students wouldn’t have anywhere else to go. That’s the problem when institutions do not provide the support we need in an appropriate time frame — they leave us all to make decisions on our own and none of them seem like the right one.

We went on with our class business until about 1:45. Someone noticed they had a lot of messages on their phone first, and then we all looked down and saw that we had a lot of messages from family members and from the university alert system. Our family members wanted us to evacuate or to know if we were OK. The university alert system messages we had received since our class began said:

1:10 PM Info UWS Office of Public Safety has received is that the UWS campus is NOT under an evacuation order. Continuing to monitor and update as needed.

1:41 PM SAFE ALERT: UW-Superior is NOT within the evacuation zone. There has been some misinformation in the media about the evacuation zone.

Authorities state the evacuation zone is 10 miles south of the refinery, 3 miles east and west of the refinery and 1 mile north of the refinery, which is 28th street. We are closely monitoring the situation. If you do choose to leave campus, please use caution and avoid the impacted area.

These strangely defensive alerts were our only source of information for what to do on campus. Several of my students live in a dorm which was .3 mi outside the evacuation zone at that time, and they wondered where they should go instead of home. No one knew. Another student confirmed that WITC, a campus located spatially within our campus, had closed for the day. Still another student who shares caregiving responsibilities for small children began to worry. She checked her phone, and found that the schools had indeed closed and evacuated, but the children’s mother wasn’t sure at that point exactly where the kids were because the school had not activated their alert system. This was the point where the class began to collectively panic and feel that we were not being told what we needed to know and where to go. A resourceful student made a few phone calls and determined that unofficially students who were unable to go home were gathering in the student union. Here’s what the view was like from campus at that point:

Husky refinery smoke in the distance

Picture taken from UW-Superior campus while classes were still taking place during the Husky Refinery disaster, April 26, 2018.

If the plan was not to cancel classes in order to stop a traffic jam and to complete a more orderly evacuation, why not send email with more guidance for faculty letting us know to bring people to the student union as things escalated? Why not give us a few resources to help us keep things calm? Leaving us with no plans and suggesting that we somehow hold class while students are not sure if they can return home and their children are being evacuated to unknown locations does not make any sense. This was at 1:45. The next set of classes on Thursdays begin at 2:30 and classes were not officially canceled until 3:10. By 4:13, UWS was declaring itself to be in the evacuation zone as well.

I had no idea what to do or where to tell anyone to go. I did not know how to help the students evacuate, although we practice tornado drills every year (tornadoes are exceedingly rare in our region). Our university is located under 3 miles from a refinery; this is a known quantity. There is no reason not to practice or disseminate information about what to do in the event of this kind of disaster other than perhaps the desire to make us feel safe about some things (like pipelines and oil production, who are large donors to the university) and direct our focus on worrying about other things.

After my class dissolved early, I canceled my next class. Then I went home, packed my things, and evacuated myself to Duluth. On the way out of town I received the notice that classes had finally been canceled. Once in Duluth, I went to some stores and tried to do something relaxing for a while. I took this picture from the malt shop, as a sad comparison to so many beautiful pictures I’ve taken of the most amazing lake in the world:

Refinery smoke over the water

Picture of the Husky Refinery disaster from the Duluth shore of Lake Superior on the afternoon of April 26, 2018.

I got to my friends’ house and ate dinner. We watched the news on and off, but tired of the coverage. The last we had heard, the fire might rage for days, even weeks. Around 7 pm, someone came home and said, “Didn’t you hear? The fire’s out.” We turned on the news, and sure enough, we saw that the fire had been declared out, and Superior residents were told we could come home as early as 9 pm. An information number was given out, which we wrote down. We turned off the coverage again, since we’d been watching it for hours at that point, and we spent time with our friends.

At about 11:30 pm Thursday night we headed out the door to come home to Superior. At the door our friend said, “Oh! we never thought to double check if it was OK to go back.” “It’s OK,” we said, “we’ll call or something in the car.” We listened for news in the car but couldn’t find any local coverage on the radio. On the bridge I called the information line that had been given out only 5 hours before. It rang a bunch of times, then someone picked it up and hung up on me.

I do not know if I was just tired, or if wishful thinking got the best of me. But we went ahead and continued on home to Superior, since the phone call was just a double check and the evacuation seemed like it had already been called off. Imagine my horror when I was already in my house, checked the internet, and realized that the evacuation had been more or less called back on. This is the real risk of rushing to give people good news. It puts people in danger. It put me in danger.

That night and the next day I found that for some reason between 6:30 pm and 11:30 pm, some of the most critical hours for sharing information during the evacuation, when people like me were away from our homes and our usual sources of information and routines, the city and county announced two numbers for residents to call and then quickly closed these numbers. Instead, they directed people to call a hotline run by the Husky Refinery itself. They also announced that “The fire is extinguished. Residents in the evacuation area are asked to remain away from homes for at least another 2 hours (21:00 CST)” then announced at 21:20 CST that the evacuation order was still in place. It’s true that it doesn’t exactly say you can go back at 9 pm. But common sense dictates that an update was needed before 9 pm, not after, so I imagine that was an oversight that encouraged others to return too quickly as well. A press conference and update was announced for 10 am Friday, then it was announced that everyone could return at 6 am. I couldn’t figure out where everyone was even getting this news from. It turned out I was out of the loop in part because I wasn’t following the correct Facebook account. I follow the City of Superior on Facebook, not “Jim Paine, Mayor of Superior.” I only wish I were joking.

I spent the next day feeling as if I was in a freefall. It makes you feel insane when everyone is telling you everything is fine but there are clearly chemical gases being spilled nearby. When you are supposed to hold class with a giant black cloud looming on the horizon and the hospital is being evacuated, it’s hard to know what’s real. When most of the talk you hear is about what a good job everyone did but your experience was terrible (and dangerous), it is literally maddening. I heard a terrible story about what happened to the patients at the VA in Superior. I know other people who came home on Thursday night only to find out belatedly they shouldn’t have. Other people’s homes shook so violently that pilot lights went out, and it took them a few days to notice the gas leak in their empty homes. The air of finality of the pronouncements from the mayor’s office and the lack of questions on all sides contribute to my fear that none of these problems will be dealt with in due course. The last updates were Friday at noon, stating that the “I am in Superior and returning to the refinery site now, breathing the air myself. We will continue monitoring the air but the source of the danger has passed,” indicating no future investigation toward any of the long term health and environmental problems we face.

We know now that the major risk was hydrofluoric acid. We did not know that in my classroom at 1 pm while that fire was raging in the distance. Perhaps it is wise public policy to keep people where they are since we cannot all get out of town on two bridges fast enough when a toxic gas explodes; most of us would have died in our cars in traffic no matter what. Does that mean though that we should have so little plan and so little training that most of us run to our windows when we hear an explosion? Does that mean we should call people back to town before the fire is really out? There were many risks to be managed on Thursday and Friday in addition to all of the health and environmental risks that remain to be managed. Some of those were handled well. The HF tank did not explode. No workers died. These are, in fact, very good things. But some things were handled poorly and they were in fact foreseeable things. There’s no reason the city of Superior can’t operate its own helpline, or at least have a voicemail message giving the most current update and directing people to the proper information and emergency numbers.  These things should not be handled by the company, who does not have our community best interest at heart.

There’s no reason we can’t speak critically about what did and didn’t go well and work to keep doing better. We need to know what happened in order to be better prepared for the future. Perhaps people would not panic in emergencies if we were not lulled into complacency in the first place. For me the first step is no more HF in my community. I don’t want to live in a “kill zone” any longer.

 

 

Saturday Rec: Pink Ribbons, Inc.

Pink Ribbons, Inc.

Pairs well with: organic foods, soil-testing kit, and solitary activities once you become unpopular for wanting to make space for the truth and criticizing “Pinktober”

This is another documentary based on a book, an academic text by Samantha King who also appears in the documentary. The film covers the problems with reducing fighting breast cancer to buying stuff with pink ribbons on it and includes many of the problems people have with the Komen foundation. More interesting, however, the film is a powerful discussion of the ways that relentlessly positive thinking is really harmful to people. It shows persuasively that when we focus on positive thinking, we center quick and easy solutions and end up missing real solutions, which are harder and take more time. We do not think about what causes cancer (e.g., living near oil refineries), and how more people are getting it. Instead we focus on finding it early on as if it were an inevitable fact.

Most strikingly the film includes interviews with women dying of breast cancer who discuss how there is no room for them or their experiences in a “movement” which only wants to hear happy stories and see pink objects. Where can one process the experience of dying from a horrible disease if people only want to hear about happy things? How can this be a “good” way of dealing with a disease if there is no room for the people actually experiencing its effects in an authentic way?

A great film for understanding how focusing only on the positive can literally harm the people around you.