It’s been almost two weeks since the National Day of Action and the Rally to Free All Families here in Boston. The delay in writing this post was partly due to a family vacation in Washington, D.C., but mostly because I needed time to process the emotions of that day.
It was hot—so hot that I was wearing shorts, which I never do. As we walked from the garage toward the crowd of protesters, I tried to put my discomfort into perspective. Families are traveling in far more grueling conditions just to get a taste of the freedom I have as a natural-born citizen. If they could endure such a harrowing journey, I could stand in the 85-degree heat to fight for their right to keep their children by their side. Instead of focusing on my discomfort, I should have directed my frustration at the U.S. government for its inhumane actions. Who really thinks it’s a good idea to separate children from their parents? It’s maddening.
We arrived a bit late (not surprising), so we skipped the meet-up at Government Center and joined the march in front of the Massachusetts State House. My brother-in-law’s girlfriend, Brittany, was in the crowd, so we waited on the sidewalk, watching the sea of protesters pass by. As I scanned the parade, I saw them—families. There were adults of all ages with children of all ages. Some kids were walking hand in hand with their parents, some were chanting, and others were holding signs they’d made. I was moved to tears. It was beautiful to witness. I even spotted one of my students with her kids! My heart was full of love and hope, emotions that would soon bubble over.
Once we found Brittany, we continued together to the rally area on the Common. Despite the heat, Boston had turned out in force to support these families. The rally organizers put together an incredible program in just seven days—SEVEN DAYS! The speakers were all local, which made it even more powerful. Students from Boston Public Schools shared their experiences as children of undocumented immigrants. A woman spoke about being separated from her son, and cue the tears—her raw emotion and haunting story hit me right in the gut. A crisis I had thought was happening across the country was actually happening across the harbor, maybe even across the street.
At one point, I looked over and saw a woman sitting under a tree, nursing her son. Then I noticed a young boy with his mom, holding an “I’m Still With Her” sign. So many families had come together to support others they didn’t even know. That is the true definition of “family values.” Families support other families. Families value other families. We all know what it feels like to be part of a family, and we can imagine what it would feel like to be separated from them. That empathy fuels our demonstrations—this is compassion in action. These are our family values.
Hate, on the other hand, is most definitely not a family value.
This post is an edited version of an original blog post I previously published.
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