Behind Our Calloused Hands

“Our Calloused Hands” was inspired by two experiences: my mother, a house cleaner, who constantly worries about the appearance and health of her hands, and my grandfather, a former landscaper, who repeatedly tells me, “Hechale ganas en la escuela para que no tengas un trabajo tan duro como yo.” My mom obsesses over having the best lotions, clean nails and soft hands, and often criticizes the state of my hands for not reflecting hers despite me having an office job. My grandpa, many years ago, broke one of his fingers while working, and due to lack of proper healthcare never went to the hospital and now has a permanently crooked finger. I include their occupations, not because they are their identities, but because the manual labor required to do these jobs has permanently changed their wellbeing and sense of self. 

 

The title itself, “Our Calloused Hands”, represents the physical state of a laborer’s hardened hands, while symbolizing the centuries-long capitalization of Black, Brown, Indigenous and Asian bodies by the U.S. empire. Although our labor is not meant to define us, nor justify our existence within American society, it has become an integral aspect of Latinidad, entrenched in our experiences, our upbringings and our opportunities.

 

The pieces within this issue detail the resulting health disparities from our jobs, personal testimonies of laborers, organizing efforts and more. This issue is meant to provoke further discussion on how labor has shaped our realities, forcing our bodies into tools of capitalism, and how it will continue to do so until we liberate the working class.