Hours at SFO airport, but not for the normal reason
I have been to SFO airport many times, but never for the purpose of shutting it down.
And that wasn't even where I started the weekend. I started the weekend with girding myself for my out of town (conservative) relatives. To thread that needle of being honest about what I think is going on, but not Charybdising the discussion.
I felt like I planted some seeds. We'll see.
I stayed over night. The next morning headed down to church. The visiting minister (the regular minister is on sabbatical) gave an amazing sermon on the theme of when good people can no longer remain silent.
The reading was this famous reading,
First they came for the Jews
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for the Communists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for me
and there was no one left
to speak out for me.
He then told us (since he's Baptist) that in his tradition he was used to a little more reaction from the audience. So, we should clap, say Amen, respond, as the spirit moved us. He then gave a sermon on Esther, which since I've written a short story about Esther, was particularly interesting. He highlighted a few moments in that tale. That Esther was part of a displaced people, but had risen to a place of privilege, to be Queen, but it was a privilege that could be taken at any moment. The last Queen after all had lost her position. Now her people were to be killed. Haman would give money to the king's treasury. So, we had prejudice and money at stake.
Esther has a choice. She can go to the king, unsummoned and perhaps die. Or do nothing, see her people die, and die anyway, because her position won't necessarily save her. The way the minster describes Esther preparing to go to the king. If this was to be the last garment that she would ever wear. As she looked her servants, friends, if she would see them again. Then she went. She saved her people.
This is a happy story with a happy ending. But as the minister reminded us, not all stories end happily.
Still, what circumstances will bring us to speak?
It was the sort of sermon that left a soul fired up.
I went to Facebook to see if there would be a rally in San Jose. After all, that's where I was already. But no sooner had I expressed an interest in the rally there, I got a ping from a friend saying they were making signs to go to SFO.
There were people, detainees, trapped in SFO by Trump's capriciously worded and timed order. The objective of the protest in SFO was to ensure that everyone got a lawyer to speak for them and got out. I never would have known about the protest or that my friends were considering going without Facebook. I don't know that I would have gone on my own even with that sermon.
I joined my friends.
As we parked in the parking lot, I had a strange sense of déjà vu. As we passed people with signs, clearly leaving the protest, as we walked into a building I have been to many times, but never for this purpose. There was a solid wall of people marching up the escalator. We passed a woman with a sign that read, "Lawyer. Family Members Detained? Legal Help Here."
I smiled at her and went upstairs. The environment was definitely more tense than the previous weekend. Cops in riot gear with their face masks down will do that. It was also a strange party in the face of that. There was a brass band playing. Trumpets and tuba. They played a sort of jazz rhythm that either gave back up to the voices of the people chanting various things. "There ain't no power, like the power of the people. Power of the people go stop!" "No ban, no wall, sanctuary for all." "Moove Trump, get out of the way."
It was as the crowd was chanting, "No hate. No fear, refugees are welcome here," I made eye contact with two women in hijabs. One of the women was almost in tears seeing the crowds. She hugged me. I gave her and her friend some lemon cough drops, and kept chanting. Waving a sign.
We were being led in the chants by a group of women of colour, who told us we were in this mess because we hadn't trusted the leadership of women of colour, but that we should trust that they knew what they were doing. They gave us a URL - at a point nothing was going on - but it hasn't resolved into an address. So perhaps I misunderstood it.
They certainly were well organized. Asking 50 people to move to various locations every now and then as some area of the crowd grew thin and the protesters in a location were being intimidated by cops in riot gear. More people, no intimidation. They would periodically call, "Sound check," the sound of it echoing through the crowd. Then tell us what they knew. Someone had been released. Cheers. That there were people still being detained. That we had shut the international terminal down. That JFK was shut down. That we weren't leaving until the people being detained were back with their families and communities.
At one point, one of the women, read a poem about her dream of freedom. Equality. We repeated her words back to her. They echoed down the long concourse of the terminal. When she was done, she turned away. I think she was crying in that moment. Behind these young women, men in riot gear stood silently watching.
Sometimes, they had us sit down to help chill everyone out. But there was an unexpected amount of dancing to that brass band. Definitely a more diverse crowd than the women's march the weekend before.
Finally, exhausted, we decided to go, but with that strange guilt because the task wasn't done.
But as we left, there were people still streaming in. About an hour later, we got word the last detainee was released.
My voice is hoarse. I feel drained, and remind myself that pacing shall be important in the new reality, but was glad that Facebook of all things (I'll have to think about how to reframe this post for there) was able to help me know where to go, and go with friends. As it happens, it's hard to be Esther on your own. Much easier when the power of the people go, "Stop," together.
http://sanfrancisco.cbslocal.com/2017/01/29/sfo-protest-detainees-released-travel-ban/
And that wasn't even where I started the weekend. I started the weekend with girding myself for my out of town (conservative) relatives. To thread that needle of being honest about what I think is going on, but not Charybdising the discussion.
I felt like I planted some seeds. We'll see.
I stayed over night. The next morning headed down to church. The visiting minister (the regular minister is on sabbatical) gave an amazing sermon on the theme of when good people can no longer remain silent.
The reading was this famous reading,
First they came for the Jews
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for the Communists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for me
and there was no one left
to speak out for me.
He then told us (since he's Baptist) that in his tradition he was used to a little more reaction from the audience. So, we should clap, say Amen, respond, as the spirit moved us. He then gave a sermon on Esther, which since I've written a short story about Esther, was particularly interesting. He highlighted a few moments in that tale. That Esther was part of a displaced people, but had risen to a place of privilege, to be Queen, but it was a privilege that could be taken at any moment. The last Queen after all had lost her position. Now her people were to be killed. Haman would give money to the king's treasury. So, we had prejudice and money at stake.
Esther has a choice. She can go to the king, unsummoned and perhaps die. Or do nothing, see her people die, and die anyway, because her position won't necessarily save her. The way the minster describes Esther preparing to go to the king. If this was to be the last garment that she would ever wear. As she looked her servants, friends, if she would see them again. Then she went. She saved her people.
This is a happy story with a happy ending. But as the minister reminded us, not all stories end happily.
Still, what circumstances will bring us to speak?
It was the sort of sermon that left a soul fired up.
I went to Facebook to see if there would be a rally in San Jose. After all, that's where I was already. But no sooner had I expressed an interest in the rally there, I got a ping from a friend saying they were making signs to go to SFO.
There were people, detainees, trapped in SFO by Trump's capriciously worded and timed order. The objective of the protest in SFO was to ensure that everyone got a lawyer to speak for them and got out. I never would have known about the protest or that my friends were considering going without Facebook. I don't know that I would have gone on my own even with that sermon.
I joined my friends.
As we parked in the parking lot, I had a strange sense of déjà vu. As we passed people with signs, clearly leaving the protest, as we walked into a building I have been to many times, but never for this purpose. There was a solid wall of people marching up the escalator. We passed a woman with a sign that read, "Lawyer. Family Members Detained? Legal Help Here."
I smiled at her and went upstairs. The environment was definitely more tense than the previous weekend. Cops in riot gear with their face masks down will do that. It was also a strange party in the face of that. There was a brass band playing. Trumpets and tuba. They played a sort of jazz rhythm that either gave back up to the voices of the people chanting various things. "There ain't no power, like the power of the people. Power of the people go stop!" "No ban, no wall, sanctuary for all." "Moove Trump, get out of the way."
It was as the crowd was chanting, "No hate. No fear, refugees are welcome here," I made eye contact with two women in hijabs. One of the women was almost in tears seeing the crowds. She hugged me. I gave her and her friend some lemon cough drops, and kept chanting. Waving a sign.
We were being led in the chants by a group of women of colour, who told us we were in this mess because we hadn't trusted the leadership of women of colour, but that we should trust that they knew what they were doing. They gave us a URL - at a point nothing was going on - but it hasn't resolved into an address. So perhaps I misunderstood it.
They certainly were well organized. Asking 50 people to move to various locations every now and then as some area of the crowd grew thin and the protesters in a location were being intimidated by cops in riot gear. More people, no intimidation. They would periodically call, "Sound check," the sound of it echoing through the crowd. Then tell us what they knew. Someone had been released. Cheers. That there were people still being detained. That we had shut the international terminal down. That JFK was shut down. That we weren't leaving until the people being detained were back with their families and communities.
At one point, one of the women, read a poem about her dream of freedom. Equality. We repeated her words back to her. They echoed down the long concourse of the terminal. When she was done, she turned away. I think she was crying in that moment. Behind these young women, men in riot gear stood silently watching.
Sometimes, they had us sit down to help chill everyone out. But there was an unexpected amount of dancing to that brass band. Definitely a more diverse crowd than the women's march the weekend before.
Finally, exhausted, we decided to go, but with that strange guilt because the task wasn't done.
But as we left, there were people still streaming in. About an hour later, we got word the last detainee was released.
My voice is hoarse. I feel drained, and remind myself that pacing shall be important in the new reality, but was glad that Facebook of all things (I'll have to think about how to reframe this post for there) was able to help me know where to go, and go with friends. As it happens, it's hard to be Esther on your own. Much easier when the power of the people go, "Stop," together.
http://sanfrancisco.cbslocal.com/2017/01/29/sfo-protest-detainees-released-travel-ban/