To feel safe by Sue Robin

The thought of the crowds on No Kings Day was intimidating, along with the fear that violence was a real possibility — but then I woke to the news about the lawmakers in Minnesota. I wept all morning, sobbing at times. Their deaths needed to be held sacred. I told Russ I had to go to the protest. I did not want to be silent today. He came along with me, bringing his own anxiety.

We honored the lawmakers and our souls. We went to Studio City at about 10:15 a.m. to get a bite to eat before the 11 a.m. scheduled protest. By the time we walked into the restaurant, there were already hundreds of people streaming onto the boulevard from all directions. We were in awe. There have been protesters on the corner there every weekend for weeks, but the numbers were small enough to count. By the time we finished eating and walked across the alley, there were a couple of thousand like-minded folks with signs, cow bells, megaphones, and enormous energy. I stopped to promise the policeman we passed that we would be peaceful. He thanked me.

It was peaceful there, as it was for the most part across the country. The only bit of ugliness was a Trumpette driving down the street giving us the finger while we chanted, “Hey, hey, ho, ho! Donald Trump has got to go!” We stayed about an hour and then picked up a case of water and drove the length of the protest, handing out the bottles.

I marvel at the President’s press person saying that the “No Kings Protest” was quite small and inconsequential. Truth is not a strong suit for any of his henchmen or women.  I was heartened by the actual numbers. There were 2,100 official protests and many more unofficial pop-up protests across all fifty states and some European countries. Red states and blue states alike. One senior living center’s occupants all went outside their building and protested right there. Five million people marched and danced to let the world know that what we are seeing in our country is not who we are, nor who we want to be.

When I remain silent amidst this chaos, my feelings are forced deep inside. I can no longer just keep the peace. When I returned from the protest, I wrote a nine-page letter to a family member who still supports Trump. It will go in the mail tomorrow. It was essential that I share with her the pain and fear I am experiencing with the current administration. I gave her numerous facts about immigrants’ contributions to our workforce and economy, and lots of information that I know she does not hear on Fox or Newsmax. I invited her to respond to my letter, either to factually refute what I wrote or tell me what she finds of value in our current president.

If she doesn’t just rip my letter to shreds and does respond, it will be as hard a read for me as it will be for her, but we must start communicating with one another as our lives and our country depend on it.

While feeling heartened is good, it is not even close to enough. I long for all of us to feel safe in our own country and for respect, common sense, and justice for all to prevail.