Collective Care
IN MID-JUNE, I was traveling with my partner through Northern California and into the Pacific Northwest to attend a climate justice conference, a heat wave chasing after us. Mere hours into the trip, several improperly torqued lug nuts flew from the front left wheel of our van, bringing it to a screeching halt on the I-5 near Redding, California. The tow truck driver who arrived looked frazzled. “I’m on hour 18 of work today,” he said. “In these temperatures, more tires blow, or people’s engines can’t handle the heat. We’re slammed.” He wore thick long sleeves to protect himself from burns when he had to lie on the hot concrete, he said. “But then I just sweat like crazy.” At the dealership, we learned that the shop was so overrun with breakdowns from the heat that it could take days to look at our vehicle. Stranded, we got a room at a hotel, only to find housekeeping staff there overwhelmed. Locals without air conditioning at home had come for a reprieve using the hotel’s AC and pool. Photojournalist Brooke Anderson talks with five California-based workers about navigating the new workplace “normal” of extreme heat, and how they’re pushing for change as the climate crisis elevates on-the-job risks.
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