Call me. I’ll arrive. You can call me any day or night.
Crossposted from Medium
“Six o’clock already, I was just in the middle of a dream. I was kissin’ Valentino by a crystal blue Italian stream.” We’ve all been there. “Valentino” could be anyone; the Italian stream is mandatory.
“But I can’t be late, ’cause then I guess I just won’t get paid.” Now it’s getting serious. We have bills that need paying.
1980s hits aside, I’m not sure if you have heard, but Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) is raiding places where people go to work, get paid and, you know, afford life. Handle their business. Trump’s ICE claims they are looking for “Fulana de Tal,” who’s name is written on their piece of paper (a fake warrant printed on dot matrix), but they are really looking for folks in the surround sound.
ICE has a 75-person daily quota for arrests, per field office. With 25 field offices across the United States, that’s 1,875 immigrants arrested on civil charges per day. Civil, not criminal. Fulana is just one lady, and she’s not where ICE shows up, guns blazing. But other people are and get taken.“Please don’t bother tryin’ to find her. She’s not there.”
Today somebody told me what his family members are worried about. They came to the U.S. because they wanted to be a success and contribute to their family. Being deported, in the indignity of shackles, would make them feel like failures.
Failures, because they crossed deserts and oceans to get here.
Failures because they had no other avenue, and took a dangerous route. Many died.
Failures, because they survived beatings and robberies to make it to the United States.
Failures because they got themselves out of Border Patrol custody and on to a welcoming community that wrapped its arms around them.
No, we failed. “These are the days when you wish your bed was already made.” We voted for this. We voted for Trump. (Not me, but a majority of people who voted in the 2024 U.S. elections.)
“Color me your color, darling. I know who you are.” This is why I love Debbie Harry. Even if she misremembered the whole Ted Bundy thing. (Or if she didn’t. She was still right. It could have been any of us.) She knows who we are.
I pretend that I’m “Slowly learnin’ that life is okay,” like A-ha said. “Say after me. It’s no better to be safe than sorry.” I’m safe, because right now I’m not on a plane. I’m not an immigrant. But I am a woman and the mother of a brave girl. Her father is an immigrant and I’m still scared. And a white privileged person who won the birth lottery.
I can’t change that, so here’s what we’re going to do. If ICE comes, you can call me, anytime. Call me, and “I’ll arrive. You can call me any day or night.”
That’s what I can do.