Lights

Went to the Lights for Liberty event here in my city (St. Petersburg, FL) last night. It was raining. I had just worked a full day. I didn't feel like going. But I went, for the children. I went for my people, because never again. I went because this is happening in my country, my beloved United States of America, and it is outrageous, horrifying and unacceptable. I went because of something one of my heroes, Gandhi, said, which I thought of (and posted) just before leaving, and which was then said by another attendee at the event later, last night: "You must be the change you wish to see in the world." But, back to the children: mainly I went because there are children in cages. Babies. In cages.

I thought: okay, even though it's raining and I don't feel like it, I *have* to go, because what if there is media coverage and only a few people show up? That would be awful. I have to go.

Well, as I approached the church at which the event was being held, my heart swelled up and almost burst. I felt exactly as I had in January 2017 at the very first ever Women's March: I realized, oh my God, there are *so many* GOOD people! So many good people in America! (Also eff the electoral college, because clearly the majority of Americans are NOT being represented by our presidential election results--sorry Mom, I know we disagreed on this, and I've thought about your excellent arguments for it for many years, but I'm sure now: I'm against the electoral college! But I digress...) The whole street was jam-packed with cars, trying to get to the event, and trying to find parking! There were people directing traffic!

The entire church parking lot was full. That particular church has a (large!!!) overflow parking lot, which was also completely full. "We're telling people to park in the neighborhood", said one of the people directing traffic to me. So into Allendale I went, along with a whole line of cars. Block after block into the hood I went, the residential street I was now on was completely lined with cars. Not ONE spot.

Luckily, I'm from St. Pete--well, not originally from St. Pete, but I mean, I've lived here for 25 years. And my current house is just minutes from Allendale. I know how to find a parking space: so I kind of went the long way around the church, to the street behind it, and kept going and finally found a street that had spaces, which was actually not a far walk from the back of the church.

As I walked on the signature, beautiful brick streets of my city, rain drizzling down, I flowed into a sea of other people. Each one of them had put children ahead of avoiding going out in the rain. So many people SHOWED UP. Again, my heart felt, well, heartened! Just like at the first Women's March, I was so very heartened and hope-infused by all the PEOPLE!

The sea of us flowed into the church, which was full. No seats in the huge sanctuary. The program was about to start. We were initially told to go up to the balcony. But no, wait, it was full, too. It was standing room only. Okay, the children are all crowded into cages. I can stand in a church for a few hours. "It's better to show up than to give up", as another hero of mine, Bernie Sanders, often says. So many people showed up. My heart was in my throat, before the event even started.

Suddenly a voice from the stage, way far away, "If the ushers would bring people up to the front, there are seats in the front row." I found myself in a stream of people being led to the front row. Unfortunately, my seat was waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay to the right side, so my chiropractic adjustment of a few days ago ended up getting a little jiggered out of wack by the end of the thing, as I had to turn my neck waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay to the left the entire time, as guess what side of the stage the podium was on. But it's okay. The children. My neck is fine. Also, it was hardest on my ENT situation with all the lit candles, particularly this guy behind me who kept his lit the entire time and the smoke was really bothering me, but it's okay. It's a few hours, I kept telling myself as I coughed and sputtered. The children. You need to be here.

The event was extremely hard to sit through. There were cages on the stage, replicating the cages at the concentration camps (I call them what they are, not detention centers). The first thing that happened was some people--some adults, mostly, and some teens and kids--a large group, went up on stage, behind the fencing, each wrapped in a thin Mylar "blanket", just like the ones that the children have. And then, the really though stuff began: each person up there read from something written by people--adults and children--in the camps, which had been obtained by a group of attorneys who had gotten in to see them. It was terrible. Terrible to hear, in the first person, what is going on in our country, in our name! These are concentration camps and children are being tortured, period.

No one (but other detainees) is taking care of the babies. They are not being given diapers or beds, toothbrushes, showers or medical care when they are sick. One girl said that a guard asked them "Who wants to care for this two-year old?" A person had said she would, but that person (another child) got tired of it after a few hours, so didn't take care of the two-year old anymore. So the person who wrote this note, this first-hand account, for the lawyers, stepped up and did so. She takes care of the two-year-old now. There are no diapers, no clean clothes. And the two-year-old "never talks."

After the first-hand accounts, one after the other after the other, there were speakers, and a musician, and break-out groups at the end, so that we would not leave without knowing things we can actually DO to try to help. There was a legislative action break-out group, and something else, and a "Homestead" group.

I went to the Homestead group, for people interested in possibly going down there, to the Homestead, FL facility. But when I actually heard what it would be like, what it would consist of, now I'm not sure. I don't want to just wave at children who are captives in concentration camps, and hold up a heart. I don't think the younger ones are going to understand anything but BEING REUNITED WITH THEIR PARENTS, or other family. Being freed. If I go down there, I am breaking these people the BLEEP out. Because, if I were in Germany, 1944, I'm not just going to stand there holding up a heart and waving.

So that doesn't feel like the thing that I want to do, though God bless those who are bearing witness, and bringing attention to the camps, and trying to help in that way. But I think that I would get myself killed (being dead--no pun intended--serious here) by trying to break in and free the people. I'd be shot on sight, or jailed. Because no way am I standing on some ladder and waving and holding up a heart. The thought of that, as they were talking about it, made me sick.

One woman (who had gone, who had been there) said that "When it hits you, when it punches you, is when they wave back." NO! I thought: no. To me, the whole description of going there just sounds too much like going to see animals in a zoo or something, and these are children. Again, I would NOT--I'm telling you right now--just be able to stand there and hold up a heart and wave, although I think those doing so are admirable, loving, courageous, beautiful souls. But again, I would get myself arrested or killed, I'm 100% sure of it, if I went there. Because my Mom's side of the family is Jewish, from *Germany*. And these kids are being traumatized, tortured really, in concentration camps, *right now*, *in my country*, and, there is an actual group with this great name: NEVER AGAIN IS NOW!

So, I'm glad I choose the Homestead break-out group, out of the three or four different ones, thinking, that's what I want to do, I want to--I NEED to--go down there. Because, had I not listened to the first-hand accounts of what that entails, I would not have learned that NO, no you don't, Edi. You are not going down there. Not to just stand there on a ladder and hold up a heart and wave, anyway. If I go down there, it will be to go INSIDE and not leave there without CHILDREN. Because it would kill me, one way or another, to just stand there and wave. Maybe the older ones understand what that is--that we are sending them love, that we care, that we are TRYING--but the little ones? All they are feeling is: "Why is no one HELPING us? Where is my PARENT?" And unless I can go down there and get them OUT of the concentration camp and/or reunite them with their family, I can't go, I tell you. I will have to help in other ways.

So last night was terrible in the sense that the whole situation we were there about is terrible. Yet last night was, just like the Women's March in 2017, only even more so: profoundly heartening and hope-renewing. Why? For the simple reason that so many, many, many, MANY people SHOWED UP.

In the front row, at one point I turned and looked when everyone was holding up lit candles. A full sanctuary. A full upper balcony. Standing room also all full. A sea of lit candles. A sea of souls who care. Who came out on a rainy night for the children. Folks: America is still good. Right now, evil is being done in our name, on our watch, by our representatives, but we will stop it. We will.

Which Side Are You On?

I just ended a friendship with someone I go back many decades with, and who is very special to me. Someone I loved with all my heart.

But this person doesn't seem to have a problem with 45 kidnapping babies and children, separating them from their parents, orphaning them, and traumatizing them in cages in concentration camps. I've been aware of this for a while, but I tried very hard to not let it come between our friendship. However, the thing is, this is one of those times in history when you HAVE to choose sides. And there is no middle ground. Not only is there is no being okay with children in cages, in concentration camps, obviously, but for me, there is no being okay with anyone who IS okay with that. No matter who that person is.

There's a line and you are either on the right side of it or you are not. So if anyone is okay with Trump separating children from their parents, not documenting who they belong with (and/or, in some cases, even when "US PARENT" and a phone # is written on the child's arm, the administration isn't even bothering to make a phone call to reunite the children with the family member), and keeping the children in cages, in concentration camps, please unfriend me now. We're on different sides of history. And there is no reaching across, on this one, for me. Not for anyone. Because if you choose that side, I can no longer see that you have a heart or soul.

In Dire Distress: 4th of July, 2019

I have never before in my life displayed, i.e, "flown" in any fashion--including as an image on my Facebook page--an upside down American flag. I am a very patriotic American citizen. Some on the Right may not think so (I'm on the Left myself--a very liberal Democrat), as I often dissent and protest, but I'm sure our founders would get it: dissent is the quintessence of patriotism. We must speak up when something is wrong, and we must speak out for what is right. That is how we create and maintain a healthy country.

Right now, we not only don't have a healthy country, America is indeed in dire distress. The flag should only ever be flown/displayed upside down in times of dire distress. Right now, everything that the flag itself symbolizes is in great peril. So, on this 4th of July, I have a heavy heart. There are children in cages and tanks rolling on the streets of my hometown, our nation's capitol. We have a sociopathic, cruel, lawless con artist puppet of an enemy foreign power as POTUS. As long as there are children in cages, in concentration camps, in my beautiful country that stands for the exact opposite of that, I will fly our flag upside down. This is not disrespect for America. Let me make this clear: this is a sign of profound respect for America. This is a sign of dire distress of America. This is a plea that we must RESIST this President and save America. This is the 4th of July, 2019.