Under nearly one-hundred-degree temperatures, Long Islanders met, exchanged ideas, and rallied to help unify families torn apart by President Donald Trump’s administration’s policy of separating migrant children from their families.
There’s a lot to unpack in that opening sentence, so let’s just review: In the past weeks, we have learned that under U.S. Attorney General Jeff Sessions’ May announcement that families crossing into the United States illegally would be separated under a “Zero Tolerance” policy, migrant children have found themselves imprisoned by the U.S. Government, torn from their parents (sometimes literally while breast-feeding), and put into what are best described as “baby jails,” billed as intended for “tender age.” In case you think Sessions is unaware of the horror he’s committing, don’t worry — he makes jokes about it.
Today, June 30th, MoveOn.Org’s response to this horror was deployed in full force. While much of the action was focused on Washington DC, as reported by CNN, I had the privilege of attending two very different, but equally important events in my neighborhood of Long Island, New York.
In Westbury, NY, just one block away from the Nassau County Republican Committee headquarters on Post Avenue in what I cannot imagine was an unplanned coincidence, organizers spanning every range of culture, ethnicity and background came together to demonstrate against Trump’s policy of separating families and throwing children in jail. (Sidebar: If it feels like I’m saying things like, “throwing children in jail” a lot, that’s because that’s what is happening in America right now.)
Organized in part by the Young Progressives Of Nassau County (and when I say young, I mean one brave lady just graduated High School — and congrats to her!), with assistance ranging from leaders in the immigrant community to a Jewish temple based out of Syosset, it was a scene worthy of the oft-chanted phrase, “Show me what Democracy looks like? This is what Democracy looks like.” Many speakers took a turn at the microphone, including the candidate for what might be the swing vote in the New York State Senate, North Hempstead Councilwoman Anna Kaplan, who herself is an immigrant. Each told a unique story to this crowd of easily more than two hundred people, but the message was consistent; what is happening needs to change, and the only way to achieve that would be through public pressure.
Cut to an hour (and a mis-communicated rallying point) later. I’m wandering about the sidewalks waving a sign at the corner of Route 110 and Jericho Turnpike, just outside of the Walt Whitman Mall. It’s hot out, though there’s some shade available, and this time there’s five-hundred people. Truth be told, it’s almost impossible to have taken a single good picture of the scene, given that on any given corner of the four-way intersection there were a hundred people, easily.
Here, there were countless organizations which put out a rallying call, ranging from Latinos Unidad de Long Island to Long Island Activists to ATLI to Indivisible RVC and the South Shore Women’s Alliance. Some protesters carried megaphones, and one entrepreneurial soul carried his own mini-amplifier and microphone. Here the chant was, “Love — not hate! — makes America great!” One person remarked that, in their estimation, about a quarter of the signs suggested abolishing ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) an idea first put forth on the national political stage by NY’s junior Senator Kirsten Gillibrand. Regardless of each person’s individual message or banner, the plan was simple — spread out, take up space on the road, chant and hold up signs, and make anyone who drives by this massive intersection acutely aware that there was an actual crisis going on. More than once, I was asked what the protest was about: My answer? “We’re against the Trump administration throwing children in cages.”
At one point, a car drove by my area, rolled down its window, and exposed a megaphone; the vehicle with three younglings screamed, “We love ICE!” After musing about what motivated these people, we concluded one simple fact: That was the best response they had. They couldn’t rally fifty people, let alone five hundred for a counter-protest. For some, however, this didn’t allay their recollection of the Charlottesville terrorist attack. We were solemn at that moment. We knew that we were probably safe, that both events had a heavy but positive police presence (in Westbury they mingled with and chatted with the crowd; on the road, they mostly just snuck in a wave to us from their patrol cars), but when that car first rolled down it’s window we got a concrete reminder of the risks that resisting far-right authoritarianism can carry.
Even when it was time for me to depart and recover, the second rally was still in full swing. I couldn’t help but feel like I’d done some good. I got a number of compliments on my sign (suggesting it was effective), I’d personally informed a few people of what was going on, and — maybe most of all — easily a few thousand motorists and passers-by saw the massive crowd covering the sidewalk, letting them know that if they held a spark of dissent close to their hearts in these difficult times, they were not alone and they, too, could let it blossom into a warm flame.
Okay, maybe not as hot as today’s noon sun, but a more comforting and constructive warmth, instead.