Notes from Minnesota

My friends, I am at a loss for words so much of the time right now. The fear that gnaws at my stomach, that clenches my heart, pushes language out of the way so something more primal erupts. There is sorrow, deep sorrow, over the state of our country in this moment. Over the state of my own beloved Minnesota. Over the disconnection of those who support Trump’s government from what a well-run country actually looks like. 

People are suffering. The chaos sown by this administration reaches far beyond our own borders, but our friends, family, and neighbors are right here in front of us. They are afraid to do their daily routines: work, study, shop for groceries, care for children, worship, get medical care. That ICE’s actions are often unconstitutional (detaining people for exercising their first amendment rights, for example) keeps everyone off-balance by design. 

Yesterday, I had breakfast with my friend Marie. We talked and talked and talked about what is happening around us, admitted our uncertainty about what we should be doing for others that can make a difference. Speaking out, of course, but there has to be more than shouting. There has to be more than carrying signs. Meanwhile, there was a morning vigil for Renee Good in Minneapolis marking one week since her murder by an ICE agent.

I went home from that breakfast and fired off an email to my local city council. They heard public comment from hundreds of Roseville residents on Monday evening, but nothing has come out about actions that they were asked to take, the stand they were asked to make to help keep residents safe from what amounts to an occupation by the federal government. My letter pointed that out, asked them again to make ICE unwelcome in this community. We border on the cities of both Minneapolis and St. Paul, unique as a suburb in that regard. But we are no safer than our neighboring cities. 

Earlier in the week, I took my granddaughters to their respective schools – Maeve to her preschool and Camille to her high school. There were staff and parents stationed all the way around the buildings outside as kids arrived for their classes. When I went to pick Maeve up at the end of the morning, there they were again – people who are watching, doing their best to keep kids safe, to shield them from trauma. While I waited for Maeve, I noticed the cart that had been placed outside the school doors, full of canned food for anyone who needs it. I made a mental note to bring food the next time I drop Maeve off. Maeve, when she appeared, was sad. Her two best friends were not in school. She said one was on vacation. I asked if this friend was gone last week, too, and she was. I knew then that child is not on vacation. In other school news, my son, who teaches at an alternative high school, had to navigate ICE agents being all around his school last week, intimidating everyone. His co-worker, a US citizen, got followed by ICE when he left to get a meal. My daughter-in-law, who teaches at a middle school in a nearby suburb, learned one of her co-workers was detained earlier this week. Yesterday, students at a nearby St. Paul high school walked out in protest of ICE actions. A few days earlier, it was the high school students in my own city of Roseville who walked out. Other high school students scattered around our metro are doing the same. The kids are not all right.

I have only scratched the surface here. Last night, our governor addressed us. We were encouraged to keep documenting the cruelty and brutality with which ICE is behaving. Also last night, tensions erupted in North Minneapolis over ICE trying to take someone into custody with one man getting shot. I don’t know all those details, but remaining peaceful is getting very difficult.

One Minnesota Crone is supposed to be a refuge. I am having trouble making it that right now. I would like to open my arms and make everyone feel safe, welcome, able to rest for a moment. And I will continue to do that to the best of my abilities. 

But this situation is eroding us all. We’re going to have to dig deep, stay focused on what is right and what is good. It is not right to target people based on the color of their skin. It is not right to terrorize an entire population to feed a small group’s hunger for power. It is not right to claim to be Christians or any kind of moral people without loving others. 

It is not right to watch brutality happen to our communities without trying to stop it. 

What is right? Feeding the hungry. Housing the unhoused. Educating the children. Forming vibrant, supportive communities. Telling the truth. Upholding principles designed to form a peaceful society.

I do not believe the US will recover from breaking its contract with everyone – citizens and other countries both – in my lifetime. I also believe this cruelty will not continue without some astonishing consequences.

But the efforts towards a peaceful and just society must continue. We cannot let this stand.