Houston doula makes mothers her mission during violent storms

Since the deadly storm that devastated parts of Houston, Sierra McClain’s phone has been buzzing with texts.

“Need diapers and formula. Can you help?”

“I’m pregnant and here without light.”

“Hey mom, I need diapers.”

“Please help me.”

The hundreds of requests can be overwhelming for McClain, a birth doula by day and patron saint of Houston parents in times of crisis. But when Houstonians are in need, she answers the call.

Over the past few days, as hundreds of thousands of people were left without power, McClain and his small team of core volunteers fanned out across the city to help mothers who were left behind, pregnant or otherwise. young children. Through word of mouth and social media posts, they distributed countless boxes of diapers, wipes and formula – no questions asked – to hundreds of families in apartment complexes across Houston.

Realizing that her job gave her unique access to baby supplies and parenting support services, McClain found her niche helping mothers in Houston’s volunteer landscape. For years, McClain has organized grassroots community assistance, knowing that families can face confusing obstacles when trying to access help from large organizations. Since Texas’ 2021 freeze, it aims to make disaster relief less “painless” for families, bringing resources directly to people during extreme weather events.

“People who need help aren’t getting it,” said McClain, better known as Sankofa on social media and among community members. “The first family who contacted me when I opened the helpline…said they hadn’t had electricity for a month. They haven’t contacted us for a number of different reasons, but one of them is the last time they asked for help, the response they got.

“Tagalong activism”

McClain begins Thursday, his seventh straight day of distribution, at Bread of Life, a Midtown volunteer organization that provides him with a day’s worth of baby-related donations. In a few minutes, volunteers placed dozens of boxes in the trunk of his Dodge Journey.

“It’s like playing Tetris,” McClain observes with a smile, briefly looking up from his phone.

McClain simultaneously runs another operation: receiving messages from her network of volunteers — a collection of social media followers, other birth attendants and nonprofit charity workers who have crossed paths with McClain. His self-described “collective” now numbers about 100 aides, bolstered this month by the support and thanks of Trae Tha Truth, a Houston rapper known for his activism and philanthropy.

Each morning, several volunteers share their availability and location, and McClain tells them where to go.

McClain practices what she calls “tagalong activism” — a method that she says helps her reach people who are missing from larger organizations’ relief efforts.

His search for people in need begins with social media posts from large organizations about disaster relief. She sifts through the comments, trying to find people who comment repeatedly on places that need help. When she spots them, she messages them directly to determine their needs, then identifies a location where she can distribute items while reaching as many people as possible.

“I’m in fashion,” McClain said. “And when I’m in that mode, I’ll do whatever I have to do.”

“The will of one person”

Before McClain leaves for Thursday’s distribution site in East Houston, three women walk by with several diaper donation boxes — some of whom she had never met.

“This is what’s happening,” says McClain, greeting volunteer Priscilla Mensah with a hug. “People message me all day long and they’re like, ‘Where can I catch you?’ I send them my location and tell them this is where I will be, for how long.

Mensah came across one of McClain’s social media posts asking for donations. She felt it was a sign. As a Black mother of two who had a difficult first pregnancy, Mensah said she knows what it’s like to struggle — and that she can’t understand being a helpless mother during a crisis.

“It’s the thinking of, ‘Oh, someone’s helping these people,’ rather than ‘No, (McClain) is helping these people,’” Mensah said. “And it’s not an organization of 10,000 people. She is a person who brings people in the community together.

“I also believe that this is how everything is done. …By the will of one person.

Spread the word

In 93-degree heat, McClain pounds water bottles as she and her niece, Tatiana, unload supplies from their trunks in the parking lot of the Sterlingshire Apartments in East Houston. The resort had no power for three days after the storm.

“It’s been crazy,” said Joyce White, an apartment complex worker who helps care for the mothers and children who live there. “(Residents) lost all their food.”

McClain and Tatiana create an assembly line: diapers, lined up by size. Boxes of diaper rash cream. Baby wipes bags. Yellow, purple and orange preparation boxes. Gallon jugs of water.

Once ready, McClain launches a live stream on Instagram to share the location of the installation. Within minutes, the news spread. Dozens of residents come down from their apartments while dozens of others pass by in their vehicles.

As resident Markashia Workman waited for the bus to take her two children home from Fonwood Elementary School, she collected an armload of supplies. Workman texted every mother she knew in the apartment complex asking what sizes of diapers they were using, wanting to make sure they got help, too.

Within two hours, most of the stock was gone – the mark of another successful day.

For McClain, his efforts go beyond meeting people’s physical needs. She just wants people to know “that there is someone in this world who really cares about them.”

“By adding a natural disaster to poverty, it becomes catastrophic. The effects are being felt so far because we are talking about people who have no savings to begin with,” she said. “We need to understand. …It’s a human being in front of me. A hungry person is not a creature.

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