“We ask that we continue to accept as many refugees as we have in the past, recognizing the need is greater than ever. We ask that refugees from all countries receive consideration to come to the U.S. and not to ban those who come from countries most in need of our assistance.”
— Presiding Bishop Michael Curry, The Episcopal Church
Those who organized the JFK Immigration Detention Rally & Vigil on January 28, 2017 (1800 – 2000 hrs JFK Int’l-Terminal 4 Arrivals) literally saved my life.
From the election of #45 on November 8, I was in total despair — and suicidal. I could barely leave my apartment. I cried, raged, ate too much pizza, and watched silly home design shows on ION TV nonstop.
When I read about the demo on Facebook that Saturday afternoon, it cracked through (though didn’t alleviate completely) my despair and thoughts of self-destruction. I knew I had to go — despite not having the subway fare! I just took my chances and went willy nilly, hoping that I would make it home. I just summoned faith and took the next right action.
Scared that I would not have enough on my Metrocard amd not knowing what to expect, I boarded an A train at West 4th Street. Luckily, I had enough to get into the JFK shuttle when I made it to the JFK Howard Beach Station — allowing for the charge to exit the shuttle later on, only one dollar remained on my card.
Going out to JFK had been a wise decision… I was energized and heartened by the thousands there who felt as I did. I realized I wasn’t alone and saw so many of my fellow citizens resisting an illegitimate regime;
On the way I connected with activists from Democratic Socialists of America– an organization I had been involved with since being a member of its precursor group Democratic Socialist Organizing Committee as a student at Michigan State in the late 1970s. I even received an invitation to speak at the YDS-Young Democratic Socialists conference in February (on a panel about “Socialism & Queer Politics.”)
I ran into my friend Esther from ACT UP and Jews for Racial and Economic Justice [JFREJ] whom I hadn’t seen in nearly two decades. It dawned on me that all was not lost or hopeless — and I was reminded that I belong to a longstanding and historic progressive community to be found in the United States. I found my tribe yet again.
I returned on the JFK Shuttle to the subway station — sweating it out the whole way… After sitting down, watching the police harassing young demonstrators, and realizing I had to ask for help, I got up and did just that. I sheepishly went up to a (relative to me anyway) young trio and told them I didn’t have the subway fare to return home. One of the three — an observing attorney — eagerly and quickly swiped me in with her Metrocard.
The subway ride back was filled with comradely banter. A young woman saw me editing my photos on my laptop and told me her favorites. When I arrived at the West 14th A stop in Chelsea, I impatiently uploaded four of my favorite photos on Facebook that gave a sense of how momentous that action was. A young man I know saw me eagerly “receiving validation” from the responses to those photos — that seemed to pour forth.
That JFK demo brought me back to the world again: A bit of “sun” managed to crack through the gray clouds. I found my tribe of resisters.
Social + Diarist 