When I Want to Protest and They Don't
This morning was cold, cloudy, and wet. I packed a few things in the car as the homeschoolers slept--a blanket, the day bag, a bottle of water, my protest sign. I checked my wallet: yes, I had $5. (I'd be stopping shortly for a half-dozen donuts at a new local shop on the way.) When I woke them, I mentioned the donuts first. They were excited. Donuts are a treat for us. I helped them bundle up. "After we get donuts, I'm going to join a protest," I said. "You're welcome to come stand with me, or stay in the car at eat." "Will you park as close as you can," asked the 11 year old, "in case we need you?" Yes, of course. When we pulled up, there were only a few people there, all adults, hands shoved in pockets, faces tucked into scarves and upturned collars. The mood was serious. The family who was being targeted for deportation had arrived with their lawyer. A few others, including the ministers of the church where the f...