they still call me...!

The government deported over 230 supposed gang members to the high-security prison Centro de Confinamiento del Terrorismo (CECOT) in El Salvador, with no chance for due process or appeal. El Salvador eventually released them to Venezuela, but they never had their day in court. Leadership even floated the idea of exporting certain U.S. citizens accused of crimes, a claim that the White House press secretary confirmed. My son and I, and many close family members, believed we earned the right to call ourselves Americans and felt our citizenship was secure with naturalization. But that security could be stripped away with the stroke of a pen.
Aside from my personal concerns, even worse, the government is paying millions of dollars to unstable or authoritarian nations willing to take America’s castoffs, the immigrants caught in the net, to imprison them indefinitely for the mere crime of trying to find a better life. Even if they let them out of prison, they may not know the language, they won’t know the culture, they’ll have no resources or support system to help them. And again, they’ll have absolutely no access to legal recourse.
Right now, the target is the Hispanic population. How long before the net gets even wider to include other people of color? How many Black and brown people today are already imprisoned for crimes they didn’t commit? How many more will be dragged off the streets before the government is satisfied? Will they leave enough behind to pick their crops, clean their toilets, and work in the slaughterhouses? Did they remove the Hispanics so that where they were working could become “Black jobs”? What recourse will anyone have when refused legal representation, or when their lawyers have no jurisdiction because the government disappeared them?
I wouldn’t step into a ring with Mike Tyson unless I believed I was equally strong and equally prepared. So how does a disenfranchised citizen prepare to go fifteen rounds with a government that is not only facing the wrong direction but dragging the nation, and even the world, with it? My heart breaks today for my people.
Heartbreak brings reflection, and out of my musings rises a warning. I cannot ignore what I see ahead. There’s much more belying the articles I’ve read than was presented. I see the unseen. I hear the words hushed by the winds of rhetoric. I fear there’s a savage storm of disenfranchisement only beginning. There’s a long road ahead, and we are unable to see our way because the dust storms of pseudo-legalism stand firmly at every mile marker of hope. Ahead are mountains and valleys, and the climb to the summit of goodness is paved with uncertainty.
Dr. King went to the mountaintop and looked over to the promised land. He saw the bounty of milk and honey, of a better life. But not everyone was strong enough to follow him up the mountain. We needed another way to the promised land.
So, we thrust our Black bodies beaten down by the batons of hate, the bites of disenfranchisement, and the bitter waters of oppression against the mountain of denial, hate, and oppression. We clawed our way through a passageway of suppressive and unjust laws to build a tunnel through the mountain. The tired and tortured corpses of Black laborers we fixed in the walls like hieroglyphics so those coming behind us could learn our stories of determination. The fragments of our bodies we used to case the walls, to strengthen the passageway, to ensure the tunnel to freedom remained steadfast.
We could not move the mountain. The mountains were too dense with the rocks of hate, disenfranchisement, and oppression. We did not want to climb the mountain again. With our Sherpas slaughtered, we needed to build an enduring tunnel that would be accessible for those too fragile to climb.
We sacrificed our Black bodies and indomitable spirits to shore up the passage for generations to follow. We eventually saw a glimpse of light, the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. We knew then that we were nearly at the end of our struggle. Our hope was that others, those with compassion, love, and acceptance, might be tearing at the stones of denial, the rocks of hate, and the barrier of oppression, opening the way from the other side. We made our way through despite insurmountable difficulty and pain; and we saw the other side of the mountain just as Aaron saw the bounty of the promised land.
But despite all our efforts, we could not move the mountain of opportunity. Each oppressive law threatens to slowly close the only access from the past to the promised land. But we must remain diligent and press forward to ensure our rights and enduring freedoms…