Unsolicited Testimony

A while back, my state representative told me she wanted to be on the right side of history. That comment stuck with me, given what we were talking about at the time. The state had just done a mid-census redistricting that split up some important districts made up primarily of minority residents and turned them into largely white ones.

I remember being so upset when it happened, for a number of reasons. The representatives of those congressional districts are supposed to, for lack of a better way of putting it, look like the community. With the redistricting, it could remove Hispanic representation in an area that is roughly half Hispanic.

It all just felt like cheating. It felt like when you don’t like that you’re losing, so you change the game entirely, or change the rules to benefit yourself. That bothers me.

The neighborhood next to mine just witnessed the fatal shooting of a long-time resident. I think about what history has taught us. I think about how there were Americans who turned away ships of Jews trying to escape the Holocaust. I think about the Japanese internment camps. It scares me to think that I could become someone who would be satisfied turning a ship of people away simply because I didn’t “want my tax dollars going toward their care.”

And then I think about humans, the fact that we are just people. And people deserve the dignity to simply exist.

I think about the Ajax football club in the Netherlands, and how people worked to protect Jewish neighbors from death. I think about how churches in the Netherlands created underground networks to send children out of the cities to prevent certain death. The right side of history.

The shooting in the nearby neighborhood is weighing on me. When you read through the social media comments, you get your fair share of people screaming that he was undocumented, that he didn’t come here the right way, but does that mean someone deserves to die? Living in the United States without documentation is not a crime, and entering without documentation is only a misdemeanor. Saying someone deserves death for it is like saying people should be executed for running a red light. The proposed punishment far exceeds the offense.

And then you think about this man, who was a pillar in the community. He was a father, a husband, a brother, a friend, and probably so much more. I know what it’s like to lose people in your life. That hole in your heart is never filled. You will never hear that laughter again. You will never get their wisdom again. And all for what? Some papers?

Losing someone to old age feels bittersweet to me. When my great-grandmother passed, she was 97. She’d had a long life, full of family, grandbabies, and great-grandbabies. She was close with her family; she loved to cook, and when she passed, she was surrounded by people who loved her. It was sad; it’s always sad, but at the same time, we all knew she was at peace.

To lose someone tragically, over some papers, is too much for me to even think about. I feel the old wounds opening again. Some days I can sit with that and reflect. But today, I just can’t.

I went to speak to my elected officials. I told my mom: I have to be on the right side of history. And history does not look fondly on the oppressors.

I can only do so much. But I cannot sit idly by while my friends and neighbors are hunted like animals.