“The humblest citizen of all the land, when clad in the armor of a righteous cause, is stronger than all the hosts of error.” ~ William Jennings Bryan.

When I was no more than twelve or thirteen, I came home one day from school for lunch, which was my usual habit.  I was not expecting anyone to be home, so was quite surprised to hear evidence of someone in the house.  I am not sure why I did not have my front door key, so I walked around the outside of the house, and saw that my bedroom window was wide open (very unusual).  Glancing in I saw the shape of a man moving through the house quickly.  ‘Hey’ I shouted, ‘Who are you?’  I got to the back door, which was open, went inside, and could hear the sound of someone moving quickly through the cane-piece at the far side of the house, obviously the intruder making his escape.  With no thoughts of potential danger, I ran to the verandah overlooking the cane-piece and yelled commandingly: ‘Come back here! What were you doing in my house?’

This was in rural Jamaica in the late 60’s, not known for much criminality at the time.  I processed what had happened (a break in and attempted robbery – although in those days a Parson was not wealthy, but perhaps the thief thought the church collection would have been handy) and called the local police station.  By that time I was no longer incandescent with rage, but was now a hysterical female yelling incoherently down the phone.  Fortunately, there was a friend hanging out at the police station (in time he went on to become a respectable police officer himself) who recognized my voice and help was sent.  By which time the intruder had well made his escape.

Many years later, while living in Miami, we entertained a young man from Jamaica for the summer.  He had come to visit an uncle, who was not in the country when he arrived, so we helpfully had him stay with us.  He had recently graduated from high school.  My husband, who was always a rebel and never a follower of rules, suggested that the young man overstay his visitor’s visa, and see if he could seek further education in the States. First, he told him, you need to get your driver’s license, this will give you a government ID.  So the young man went to get his driver’s license.  He was gone all day (this was way before we had cell phones) and was supposed to call me on a pay phone once he was finished so I could go and pick him up.

Imagine my surprise, around five in the evening, when an official car pulled up in my driveway, and the young man, accompanied by two uniformed men with their huge guns drawn, came to the door.  They were Border Patrol officers, apparently contacted by the Driver License officials, who had found that he had overstayed his permitted time in the US.  They came into my home (like I said, with guns drawn) to watch him as he packed.  Once more I became incandescent with rage.  How dare these men come into my house (with huge guns drawn), in the presence of my young children?  What did they think they were doing? They explained that they had given him the option of being taken to a detention camp, or going home to Jamaica.  He had opted for the second, and they were taking him to the airport.  They followed him into the bedroom to pack, I followed them.  He had to go to the bathroom.  They followed him and stood at the half-open door (with guns drawn).  My rage emerged again: ‘Is this how you get your kicks?’ I asked, ‘watching young men go to the bathroom?’

Fortunately, they did not respond to my incandescent rage, they calmly but patiently waited on the young man as he prepared to go home.  I have no idea whether they proceeded lawfully.  I just remember how angry I was at the way he was treated, and their authoritarian manner.  I also cannot recall if he ever returned to the US. 

The recent authoritarian manner of a certain unelected official has me flummoxed.  Not his actions, for we were warned in a very explicit document about the plans for 2025.  I was flummoxed and flabbergasted at the ease with which the actions were accomplished.  Would you let a stranger into your house, to access your computer system and files, without calling 911?  Even if your response was not rational, but fueled by adrenaline, wouldn’t you yell and scream and demand that they stop? I have been flummoxed, flabbergasted and furious at the slowness of the response by the opposition, at the time it is taking for them to ‘find a message’, to decide on a strategy, to act like humans in the face of this onslaught of illegal acts. 

Thankfully there is hope, hope in the actions of regular, unelected people, who have been tying up the phone lines at the Capitol, calling their senators and congressmen to protest the shutting down of agencies, the crippling of governmental activities, the exposure of confidential data.  As a recipient of a monthly social security check myself, I am acutely aware of how different my life would be if someone decided these should stop.  Unfortunately, there are far-reaching consequences to these reckless actions; global impacts on children, vulnerable adults, people in need of food and medicine.  And in our global world, we know how quickly an epidemic in one part of the world can become a pandemic that reaches our shores.  We have just to look back five years to see.

At times like these it is important not to feel paralyzed or powerless, overwhelmed by the speed at which things seem to be unraveling.  We can support organizations like the ACLU which take the fight to the courts, challenging acts which are clearly unconstitutional or illegal; we can call our representatives in Washington and lodge our concerns (specific, not just a general disagreement); we can find local organizations which need our support whether in person, cash or kind, to help to mobilize protests.  We can, and must, do something.  For if we do nothing, we are acquiescing to a future where diversity is criminalized, where children with special needs are left to their own devices, where those who suffer poverty and hunger are left to the ministrations of charity organizations. 

We have front row seats at the rolling back of advances gained through the struggles and even deaths of good people in this country.  We are watching as civil rights are being eroded.  We already know how that affects our physical health, as we remember that minorities had far worse outcomes during the Covid outbreak.  We already know that African American women have increased risk of death associated with childbirth (almost three times the rate of White women).  The government, by the way, has banned the publication of such data from the CDC, along with preventing the dissemination of information regarding other health issues. It is impossible to list all of the dangers associated with actions which have been taken over the past three weeks.  But we have our voices, we have our intelligence, we have our righteous rage, and we must not stop until “…justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream” as MLK Jr said. 

This Friday morning, I hope that you can find a way to channel your anger into righteous rage.  I hope that you do not let the noise and onslaught of provocative headlines upset your balance.  And I hope that you are not personally affected by some of the more radical changes taking place.  Let us be united at this time, remembering that we all have more in common than our differences.

Have a wonderful weekend, Family!

One Love!

Namaste.