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Writer's pictureDarcy Reed

Do something now

I’d like to say today that the sun will shine on the recent, inhumane conditions on the border. The small sliver of light I see in my mind has protesters fighting the wardens of misery there. This Friday, people will stand up against this horrific symptom of the fascist dictatorship we all just imagined we might end up in. I believe there is time to turn this chapter of our society around here but there isn’t a lot of time.


People are dying in those camps and it’s being covered up, I believe. Congress will have to meet first and talk about it. Then some bill will be discussed over a period of weeks, then maybe voted on. The money that was just voted on hasn’t changed anything yet. It’s an emergency, not a time for a few more meetings and then a committee or two. People will not be able to live that long like this.


What we need are huge demonstrations against this at the actual holding facilities. That’s happening this Friday. If you are a real American, you’ll stand with the protesters. We don’t do this to people. If the protesters can’t stop this, an international human rights effort must take place. This is about to be Bastille Day. How about we break down those facilities and free the people? They are our brothers and sisters.


Tear down the camps and let the refugees sleep under the stars. It’s freaking summer. That would be better than cages. Are they criminals? No, they are families. This is against humanity – our own blatant crime. Our government surely has enough tents or trailers to house families humanely until they are processed for asylum. They could be taken care of humanely in the meantime.


There is absolutely no excuse for this other than the fact that our leader is insane with extreme, aggressive stupidity and wants to hurt these people so badly they never want to come here. I think it’s of course being covered up since media no longer gets to report on the real news from there, but what could go wrong? Ask yourself. Do the keepers of caged people in small rooms separated from their loved ones forget who belongs with whom? We’ve screwed this up so badly we’ll never unscrew it. That sliver of sunshine I spoke of is shining on the barefoot of a thirsty, dirty, neglected and crying child. Her soul is in your hands. The soul of our country is in our hands.


 

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