I had a different post scheduled for today, but then Minnesota happened, and I find that I’m desperate to turn this week’s post into a prayer. Acts of the spirit always feel more important to me than acts of the mind in violent moments. I’m sad to say that I know this because I’ve had too much experience with political violence in my 73 years, so here is my prayer.
May we unfreeze our hearts. May we know ourselves whole. May we know our fear. May we know our courage. May we know our anger. May we know our peace. May we know the power to make peace with those who scare us. May we know the wisdom to seek justice that heals. May we know the future is not set. May we know that love is deep and boundless. May we know what it is we each must do today to begin to mend our nation. And so it is. Amen.
I honor and weep for Minnesota State Representative Melissa Hortman and her husband, Mark. I hold their two children and the rest of their family and all their friends in my heart. I pray healing for Minnesota State Senator John Hoffman and his wife, Yvette, and peace and strength to their family and friends.
Saturday was a time of violence, but we can’t forget that it was also a time of peace and the power of community. I refuse to let go of all the hope our marching feet drummed up at the No Kings rallies all over this country. Millions of us turned out for democracy and decency. That has to count for something.
I was in Topeka, Kansas, on the Statehouse lawn, and below is a photo of me (seated, far right) with dear friends. The turnout at the Statehouse was listed as more than 2,000 by local TV station WIBW. That’s a big crowd for Topeka, the biggest so far in all the Trump era protests. Among other places that No Kings events took place in deep-red Kansas were Wichita, Kansas City, and across suburban Kansas City.
It was a small thing to show up with a sign and listen to speeches, but it was also important. Timothy Snyder, historian and author of On Tyranny, explains:
(T)he "no kings" protests come first, and then we do further work for freedom afterwards. We protest to show ourselves that we can. We protest to show others that we do not think that all of this is normal. And we also protest as the beginning of other actions. Whether that be with Indivisible, or Interfaith Alliance, or labor unions, who helped organize; or just with any small initiative where we know something and are together with other people and find ourselves doing something rewarding we weren't doing before.
One small act will become another and another and another, and the day will come when honor and decency are born.
Be well, friends. Keep doing your bit.
Poetry & Life is the personal newsletter and podcast of poet and recovering journalist Diane Silver. (That’s me!) I seek to provide a place for poets, artists, and those looking for inspiration to rest, find resources, and gain perspective. Thanks to all who subscribe, like and share my posts. A special thanks to paid subscribers. You make it possible for me to pay my rent. (Paid subscribers get all. my free posts + the Poetry & Life Podcast and my full archives.)
Snow photo by Alex Vasey on Unsplash
Thank you for that prayer. I had just been reading about social media posts by Mike Lee, and your prayer was my antidote. May peace be everywhere.