This Isn’t About Us
When the protests against ICE in Los Angeles began, I commented that I didn’t see very many Black folks out there. A friend responded “this isn’t about us, JuJu. We did our part by voting for Kamala.” I said “you wait. It isn’t about Black folks YET.” A few weeks later, the National Guard rolled into DC, harassing Black folks sitting out on their stoop and most recently, youngsters out for Halloween. And yes, from the get-go, this IS about me!! I’m MARRIED to an immigrant, my IMMIGRANT step-children are married to IMMIGRANTS, and I have a BROWN son who is “racially ambiguous”. While hubby can pass for White until he opens his mouth to speak, my youngest child has been asked if he’s Filipino, Mexican, an Arab, or an Indian. My spouse and kids are either legal residents or NATURALIZED AMERICAN CITIZENS, but that mean dick-all in the current political climate. Thanks to racism from the Orange Bastard in the White House and some extremely poor decisions by SCOTUS, my family is in danger of getting picked up and deported, just based on the color of their skin and the language they speak.
Most importantly, this is about US, WE the people, WE as HUMANS. I can’t pretend that what affects others will just pass me by, leaving me unscathed. The psychologist Alfred Adler described empathy as seeing with the eyes of another, listening with the ears of another and feeling with the heart of another. How can we not be touched by the anguished cries of children being separated from their parents by ICE, by the news report showing a man shoved to the ground and handcuffed, and horribly, a person having a seizure as ICE tore his spouse and child from his hands? Sound familiar or have we forgotten about our history as chattel slaves and the gangs that were sent out to hunt us down or harassed us while we tried to just go about the business of living. KKK, anyone?
I am a very sensitive person and the miasma of brutality and resulting pain tore at my mental and physical health, enough so that I left the country. I urged my sons and husband to leave with me, but none of them wanted to do that. They are still there with the shitstorm roiling around them. My Scottish friend asked me if wanted to fight the system. Of course I do. Right now I’m regaining my strength, and yes, I will wade back into the fray at some point. If I was there now, I’d be attending the No-Kings protests, and volunteering at food distributions where BLACK folks, who thought they were “safe” because they aren’t Latino, stand in line for hours. So, yes, it is about US.
