With all the recent buzz around tomorrow’s #daywithoutImmigrants, I wanted to take my train ride home from work to reflect on solidarity. What it looks and feels like.
I’m so excited for the vibes that have been happening in my place of employment and in support of our staff- the people that I have come to know as my friends, ‘mi amores.’
My brilliant female coworker reminded us all in an email about the women’s protest that happened in the 70s in Iceland, when women went on strike from their jobs and household commitments which in turn lead to an entire shut down of the country. I’m not an advocate for ‘Power’ but there is a centrifugal force in solidarity, which speaks to a power beyond measure. Money is nothing, and bears no weight when it comes to true human strength and resistance.
What I hope can come from these protests and strikes is a combined solidarity in the movement in the US. For us to take the founding of this country back to ground zero — to acknowledge the invisible and silenced populations of Black and Brown Americans. For immigrants to extend a righteous hand to African Americans those whose families did not have a choice In the coming to America for a “better life.” And Native American populations who cultivated and did topography of this land and enhanced the European ‘experience’ only to be caste onto reservations and to be deprived from resources and a known sustainable way of life.
Times have changed, but the basis of the ‘caste’ and ‘Aryan’ concept of lighter & superior still are attached to our language. Remember, it is human beings who created and defined language. Language is not a truth. It, like race and class, are man made constructs that all play into one another.
Let us not forget that black Americas literally worked themselves to death in the founding of this economy and have never been given any sort of economic retribution for it — their time, sweat equity and overall sacrifice which bears weight on all fronts-land, family, name aka identity.
And welfare is not compensation. It is hole of comfort, but believe me when I say that the level of ‘comfort’ between poor and black versus rich and white is vastly different.
I’m more than happy to set my comfort and privilege aside because I would have no say if it were not for those both black and brown men and women who literally nursed and taught the white children how to work to be ‘better' people.
And when I say ‘better’ — it is a curing of racism as the mental disease that it is.
We, as those born with white skin, are indebted, and it is for this reason that I will always work in the space of service lending to the ‘liberty and justice for all.’
See you all tomorrow possibly wishing he dishes in the back of the house at Row 34.
Viva la Revolucion!