Yes, I know I am behind. For the past four years I have posted every day in Lent, starting with an ashes photo.
This year though, Ash Wednesday fell between the days of Chemo Care Class and Rob’s first treatment for recurrence of bladder cancer. That and the reality that my mother turns 97 soon (with all the meaning that entails) makes it clear I will not be writing every day.
That doesn’t mean I am not observing Lent. As it turns out, the juxtaposition of these events, not to mention the darkness of our political scene, appears to be a way God is getting my attention about this holy season as never before.
I am grateful to have guest authors who may post here over these 40 days. May their presence here and in this world be a blessing to you as it is to me.
Fear As we enter a new era in the politics of our country, we also begin an era of fear, harassment, and violent rhetoric targeting our minority communities, who have become scapegoats and easy targets depending on who holds power. This phenomenon has recurred every decade as immigration becomes a hot topic in each election cycle.
My message this time has a double audience and intention. First, I want to extend my solidarity to my fellow Latine communities. I understand your pain, fear, and uncertainty. I came to this country back in the 1980s and, like many of you, didn’t speak English, I suffered cultural shock, and lived with the fear of knowing that any member of my family could be deported at any time. Back then, we didn’t have the pro-immigrant institutions, lawyers, or protections available today. Instead, we gathered among neighbors and created action plans in case any of our loved ones were detained.
Our plans included:
Having honest conversations with family members about what it means to be undocumented in this country and the associated risks.
Keeping an attorney’s contact information handy, or better yet, visiting an attorney so they at least know your name.
Keeping cash at home for emergencies, since arrested family members might not be able to access bank accounts.
Arranging for someone to pick up children from school, daycare, or babysitters if a parent is detained by ICE.
Teaching teenagers to use rideshare apps like Uber.
Storing important documents in a single, safe place.
Avoiding nighttime parties, bars, and nightclubs.
Keeping your car insured, inspected, and registered, and obeying traffic laws to avoid being stopped by police.
Finding a home church or support system to help you through difficult times.
Live as normally as possible, obey the law, but try not to draw attention to yourself or become a target.
Second, my message is for my fellow Anglo communities. Many of you are new to this reality. If you want to help Latine communities as they navigate these challenges, here’s what you can do:
Pray for our communities.
Provide safe spaces for families.
Help them create safety plans.
Advocate for their well-being and be present in their lives.
If you can provide free counseling, please do so. Being an immigrant is hard; being targeted by those in power is exhausting.
Make yourself available as a safe person they can trust. Building trust takes time, but your support can make a difference.
Watch for signs of depression, which is common in immigrant communities, especially among single mothers, who are particularly vulnerable during these times of persecution.
May God help us all!
Pastor Violeta Siguenza
Miedo Al entrar en una nueva era política en nuestro país, también comenzamos una era de miedo, acoso y retórica violenta dirigida a nuestras comunidades minoritarias, que se han convertido en chivos expiatorios y blancos fáciles dependiendo de quién tiene el poder. Este fenómeno se ha repetido cada década, ya que la inmigración se convierte en un tema candente en cada ciclo electoral.
Mi mensaje esta vez tiene una doble audiencia e intención. Primero, quiero extender mi solidaridad a mis comunidades latinas. Entiendo su dolor, su miedo y su incertidumbre. Vine a este país en los años 80 y, como muchos de ustedes, no hablaba inglés, sufrí el choque cultural y viví con el temor de saber que cualquier miembro de mi familia podría ser deportado en cualquier momento. En esos años, no teníamos las instituciones proinmigrantes, los abogados o las protecciones que se ven hoy en día. En cambio, nos reuníamos entre vecinos y creábamos planes de acción en caso de que alguno de nuestros seres queridos fuera detenido.
Nuestros planes incluían:
Tener conversaciones honestas con los miembros de la familia sobre lo que significa ser indocumentado en este país y los riesgos asociados.
Tener a la mano el número de contacto de un abogado, o mejor aún, visitar a un abogado para que al menos conozca su nombre.
Guardar efectivo en casa para emergencias, ya que los miembros de la familia arrestados podrían no tener acceso a sus cuentas bancarias.
Designar a alguien para recoger a los niños de la escuela, la guardería o la niñera en caso de que un padre sea detenido por ICE.
Enseñar a los adolescentes a usar aplicaciones de transporte como Uber.
Guardar documentos importantes en un lugar único y seguro.
Evitar fiestas nocturnas, bares y discotecas.
Mantener el seguro, la inspección y las placas de su automóvil actualizados, y obedecer las leyes de tránsito para evitar ser detenido por la policía.
Encontrar una iglesia local o un sistema de apoyo que les ayude en tiempos difíciles.
Vivan lo más normalmente posible, obedezcan la ley, pero traten de no llamar la atención ni convertirse en un objetivo.
En segundo lugar, mi mensaje es para mis comunidades anglosajonas. Muchos de ustedes son nuevos en esta realidad. Si quieren ayudar a las comunidades latinas a enfrentar estos desafíos, aquí tienen lo que pueden hacer:
Oren por nuestras comunidades.
Brinden espacios seguros para las familias.
Ayúdenles a crear planes de seguridad.
Defiendan su bienestar y estén presentes en sus vidas.
Si pueden proporcionar consejería gratuita, háganlo. Ser inmigrante es difícil; ser objetivo de los que están en el poder es agotador.
Háganse disponibles como una persona de confianza. Construir esa confianza lleva tiempo, pero su apoyo puede marcar la diferencia.
Estén atentos a los signos de depresión, que es común en las comunidades inmigrantes, especialmente entre las madres solteras, quienes son particularmente vulnerables durante estos tiempos de persecución.
Last night as we walked home from the beach, Rob turned around to face me, smiling, almost beaming, and with the glow of the sunset on his face exclaimed, “That is exactly what I was thinking!”
He was responding to my comment, “That guy reminded me of Jesus.”
When we had arrived at the shore’s edge, an hour prior, we saw an older heavier man fall backwards onto the driftwood. We coaxed him into a better position and assured him we would stay until help came. We didn’t have to ask twice when a brown-skinned, bearded man with, presumably, his wife and tween daughter, showed up, “Can you help us?” This person was strong and gentle, perhaps EMT-trained?…everything we needed. Once he quickly assessed that we were ok, he turned his full attention to the other gentleman.
Both Rob and I were completely overcome by his graciousness. He questioned the man, helped him rise, and got him a stick, then walked off with him through the dunes and towards the vehicles. Our rescuer was completely focused and loving. And like those on the road to Emmaus long ago, we felt our hearts burning within us.