Are you not alarmed?

I was away from home on election eve, and found myself in a hotel room with my 5-month old son asleep in his pack and play as I shifted quickly between texting friends, flipping on the news, curling under the covers, and then revisiting the text stream again. Around 11pm on Tuesday, November 8th I realized today was coming. My stomach dropped and I felt immediate shock when I finally acknowledged that Trump was going to be our President. And when I began re-mapping and reworking all of my expectations - trying to think what will he do first? -- tears came quickly because I knew he could do this, take swift executive action and close our doors to the vulnerable. I knew he would bank on lying and fear to turn our country's back on the tired, the weary, the hungry, the refugee. I texted my friends as much "%$^* guys -- imagine what this means... he'll shut down the resettlement of Syrian refugees..."

Knowing this was coming makes it no less painful or shameful.

Friends, let me continue to plea and remind you -- Donald Trump, and any other Republican or Democratic Congressperson who tells you refugees are not vetted and screened is lying to you.

I've worked in the refugee resettlement field. I've watched my coworkers attend the allocation meetings, process flights, coordinate with local offices to prepare for arrivals. I've visited World Relief offices all over the country and spoken with staff, who work alongside local churches to furnish apartments, arrive at the airport, welcome these families. We all know, from our experience - firsthand accounts from refugees, and our coordination with the US government, that refugees are thoroughly vetted and spend 12-30 months undergoing screening and clearance checks.

I've also personally met families, from Iraq, Somalia, and the DRC. I've heard stories of life in refugee camp. (I took one family to the grocery store for the first time as a volunteer; the parents of the family had been in a refugee camp for seventeen years prior to their arrival.) A family I volunteered with from Iraq had assisted the US government in their home country, which put their own livelihoods at risk prior to being resettled. I've driven a bright-eyed, kind, fifteen-year-old girl from Myanmar to doctor's appointments because she had a serious medical illness and needed care that was only available here in the US. Each refugee has a powerful story, of waiting to come, of great opportunity and gratitude in their arrival.

What Donald Trump is about to do, with the flick of a pen, will have an impact on thousands of lives, of families that have been waiting in desperation for a new hope. His entire justification for his action is built on lies and fear.

I went back this morning and revisited the visceral, emotional reactions I felt on election night to try and re-focus my own attention on what is in front of us. I've known this was coming, but I haven't made enough calls to my representative, haven't sent enough letters, haven't protested enough, haven't engaged in potentially uncomfortable conversations to make my case to others who may think differently.

I beg of you to do likewise. Take yourself back to wherever you were on September 3, 2015. Remind yourself of what and how you felt when you saw the pictures of Aylan Kurdi wash up on the shores of Turkey. Know that our government will now be shutting our doors to his friends, sisters, brothers, and countrymen, who are no less desperate for a safe haven. Know that Donald Trump is lying to you when he says that accepting refugees is a threat to our national security.

We should all be alarmed.

We should all be ashamed.

We should all take immediate action to raise our voices against what will happen today.

Why I March

My bag is (nearly) packed; a last addition are these trusty gortex hiking boots. As I load up my Mom's Rav4 and plan to descend upon DC with the masses this week, I wanted to take a few minutes to reflect on why I'm marching tomorrow.

1. I'm marching for refugees. I know the March is focused on women and women's right, but I'm grateful that the organizers have clarified a message of focus specifically on how Gender Justice=Racial Justice=Economic Justice.

I believe that refugees and immigrants are specifically and particularly threatened under this new administration, and part of why I'm marching is to re-assert the rights for refugees and our nation's commitment and long tradition of creating a safe haven for refugee women and their children. (More on that here.)

2. I'm marching for Paid Family Leave -- not just for women and men to have paternity leave, but for caregivers (the bulk of whom are women), who have to drop out of the workforce to care for an ailing parent, a brother with mental illness, or a sick child. I realize this specific nuance to this policy is so far off the legislative  agenda that it will never come up under this administration, but the need to build protections for caregivers is directly personal to my story. This need will only grow as more of the Baby Boom generation ages and many more of my peers are faced with life-altering changes around career decisions, financial implications, and personal commitments to caring for our family.

So I'm marching most vocally for paid family leave, and with that I will be marching for myself and for my Mom -- who taught me what it means to be a strong woman, committed to a career that has meaning, committed to working for change while also being the matriarch of her family.

There's been a lot of criticism and controversy around the March.

Should the March have a Big-Tent approach? 
Should it be focused on Reproductive Rights?
It needs to be for something and not just against Trump.
The March will result not result in lasting change.

{part of why I walk: my role as caregiver to these two!}

Amid all these cries, I've been grateful to watch the organizers continue to engage the struggle and seek to rebuild a coalition amid the fracturing of conversation. One of the things that became clarified for me during the election is that Trump's ability to create chaos causes a breakdown of our message to organize a response. So much of what many of us stand for is on the legislative chopping block. There's so much being undone that it really is hard to assert what we stand for. However, we can't allow ourselves to be stymied due simply to an ability to focus.

In the NPR Politics Podcast, Sam Sanders noted how marches and coordinated protests can shift the conversation. While that in and of itself may not result in direct, legislative change - it's definitely an important start. Many of us have found that we now need to live in a posture of protest and willingess to stand alongside the vulnerable at the outset of this administration. Voicing this to our new President is a clarified and important enough message that I am lacing up my boots and taking to the streets.

Mom has a hard time understanding the shifting forces in our politics, but when I explained to her
why I was marching she said she wanted to come. Even though it won't work out logistically, I'm lacing up these trusty hiking boots she bought me over ten years ago, and wearing small tokens to remind me of her strength. I'm marching to assert my voice as daughter to her, mother to Asher and Moss, and woman who won't sit quietly and let this new administration underestimate the power of a group of thoughtful, committed citizens.