Cultural center pivots to virus testing and food distribution
San Jose’s School of Arts and Culture has become Latinx lifeline
In early March, the School of Arts and Culture was gearing up for its annual César Chávez celebration — a beloved San Jose party that typically draws 1,500 people for dancing and performances.
Then the coronavirus pandemic hit, bringing plans to a screeching halt and forcing the group to pivot. The nonprofit could no longer fulfill its main mission of hosting cultural events and classes at the Mexican Heritage Plaza in East San Jose’s Mayfair neighborhood. But neither could it stand idly by as the virus spread through its largely Latinx community and put scores of people out of work. So the organization quickly turned its focus to two of the things its people
needed most: food aid and coronavirus testing.
“Our community, which is working class, has been disproportionately impacted by the pandemic,” executive director, Jessica Paz- Cedillos said. “They
may not be earning a living wage. They may lack health insurance. They’re living in multigenerational households; usually three to four families in a house. It makes sense why the pandemic
would have a great impact on this community.
“At La Plaza, we know that. We see that.”
In partnership with Second Harvest of Silicon Valley food bank, the School of Arts and Culture started handing out boxes of food twice a month at the plaza. In August, the nonprofit launched a weekly COVID-19 testing program with Gardner Health Services and Santa Clara County.
On a recent Wednesday, María Teresa Esquivel lined up for COVID-19 tests with her six children, the youngest in a stroller. Esquivel had already caught the virus and recovered earlier this year, but she wanted to make sure her kids were safe.
Everyone got tested, including the baby. Esquivel said the process was fast and made her feel “calm and safe.”
The School of Arts and Culture has the capacity to test up to 400 people every Wednesday.
About 500 people also come every other Monday for food. By 8:30 a.m., they form a long line that snakes past a “despensa gratis” or “free pantry” sign. Many are residents of neighboring senior centers. Others, some of whom have been out of work for months, walk from their homes a few blocks away. There’s also a drivethru option.
Aurora Cedano, 50, lined up with her husband and grandson on a recent Monday. She had been working in hotel housekeeping until surgery to remove a tumor on her foot forced her to take time off. When she was ready to return to work, the pandemic had shut down the economy and there were no jobs.
Her husband, Eladio Cedano, who worked stocking airplanes with food at San Jose International Airport, has been out of work for a month. The Cedanos have burned through their savings, and now receive about $600 a month in unemployment benefits. Their rent is $1,600.
That’s why the food pantry is so important, Aurora
Cedano said.
“For me, it’s very meaningful,” she said in Spanish. “I thank God this type of help exists for those of us who don’t have resources.”
Many of the people on both sides of the food distribution line have been coming to the nonprofit for classes and events since long before the pandemic upended their lives. That’s part of what makes the program effective, Paz- Cedillos said; the community already knew and trusted the group, so turning there for pandemic help was natural. The staff, most of whom grew up in East San Jose and are people of color, know their community and how to best serve
them, Paz- Cedillos said.
Ser v ing the community also includes keeping School of Arts and Culture staffers employed during the pandemic, using money from grants and donations to pay their salaries even as income from normally scheduled events dried up. The nonprofit is seeking additional donations to support that effort.
Before the pandemic, Olivia Ortiz, 42, attended community meetings at the nonprofit and brought her son there for summer music and art classes.
But when the pandemic began, much of Ortiz’s work ended and making ends meet became a challenge. She co- owns META LLC, which does contract work with nonprofits, local governments and other organizations. Her husband, a construction worker, also saw his income take a hit.
So Ortiz returned to the plaza, this time for the food pantry.
“I’d be struggling if we didn’t have these types of resources, to be honest,” she said. “I’ve talked to a lot of people and they tell me, ‘ this is helping me a lot, because I don’t know what I’d do without this.’”