To protesters threatening violence: be brave, like my friend, Jan.
As I sat at home, on the eve of another protest in my district — the possibility of violence hanging over us — I got to thinking. The national media will undoubtedly cover the protests in detail, and will then collect opposing views from people who support the strict policies meant to stem the spread of COVID. But what they will unlikely cover are the very group I hear from so frequently as a congresswoman and as a regular Michigander: the people who disagree with some of the Governor’s orders, but who would never think to threaten violence, wave Confederate flags and swastikas, or put law enforcement at risk by congregating without masks.
Let me tell you about my friend Jan.
She lives down the road from me in Rose Township in rural Oakland County. She’s one of the first Republican women who supported me, a Democrat, when I first ran for Congress. More important than politics, she’s become a dear friend. And she does not agree with a number of Governor Whitmer’s executive orders on COVID-19.
Jan took the time to write me this week about her mom, 93, and her dad, 96, and the pain the whole family has experienced over the past few months. Back in March, her Mom fell and broke some bones. She was taken to the emergency room, where no one was allowed to see her due to COVID. She went from the hospital to a long term care facility and back again. She then needed surgery and more recovery. She went through all the back and forth and all the emotional ups and downs totally alone, without any contact from any family, including her husband of 73 years. Now she’s in yet another nursing facility, which Jan could only choose based on pictures online. She is frail and in failing health, and Jan is desperate to get inside so she can be there with her, to hold her hand, for the weeks that she has left.
Jan can’t see her parents, and they can’t see one another, because of the state’s COVID-19 lockdown policies. Jan understands those policies and how they were set up to protect the vulnerable residents and dedicated staff at the facilities. But as she told me in her letter, she’s worried her 93-year-old mom is literally dying of a broken heart.
Jan has spent every waking moment of the last two months looking for an exception to the strict “no visitor” policy, which is exactly what I would have been doing if someone had tried to keep me from my mother when she was slipping away. Jan wrote her state senator asking for help with the Governor’s policy, and reached out to me to see if there was something I could do.
As our state Capitol braces for yet another protest today, it’s Jan I’m thinking of.
Jan isn’t protesting on the steps of the State Capitol. She’s not waving around a semi-automatic rifle, shouting outside the state legislature’s chambers, or carrying around a Confederate flag or a sign with a swastika on it. Jan is too busy trying every avenue she can find to get to her parents. She might be upset with our governor, but she would never, ever wish violence upon her.
The president will never praise Jan’s courage with a tweet because there is no outrage to be generated by a brave woman bearing up to what seems at times unbearable.
There are no easy answers to a story like Jan’s. A visit to a nursing home from a loved one could bring immense comfort or help spread a deadly disease, and there is almost no way to know which. We’ve lost more than 4,700 Michiganders to this virus, but the separation of the living, at the end of their lives and without the ability to personalize the guidance, is nearly as tragic as the lives we’ve lost. This is a very new situation for all of us, and blanket policies often leave individuals without normal recourse. And decent, thoughtful people often disagree on what makes sense, and how to implement these new policies.
Late yesterday I called Jan to come up with a game plan for asking for an exception for the Governor’s order. To my surprise, I found her elated: She had just gotten some great news that one of the employees at the nursing home had figured out how to arrange to have Jan’s dad move into her mother’s room, despite not needing the same level of care. For the first time in eight weeks, her mother had her husband by her side. Jan’s voice was shaky. I could hear how relieved she was, and it choked me up to hear the emotion in her voice knowing that her mother would weather the final weeks with the love of her life by her side. She had done what any daughter would do to protect their family.
I am monitoring today’s protest. The escalating rhetoric, the focus on weapons, and the growing threats and intimidation have me worried that we may see violence. I very much hope for the individuals, and for us as a state, that doesn’t transpire.
Maybe the people who are threatening to lynch the Governor think they are being brave. They are not. I wish they could be brave like my friend Jan.
