Episode Transcript
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Nicte-Ha (00:00):
Uh, you can't do that.
(00:36):
If you don't live in Chicago,I'm not really sure that you're
getting a good picture of what'shappening in the city right
now.
I think that from what I cantell, it looks like the
mainstream media is mostlyfocusing on a couple of the
incidents that have occurredwhere agents have tear gassed
(00:56):
bystanders, where people haveclashed at the Broadview
detention facility outside ofthe city.
And while I think that thoseare good to highlight because
they are happening, what they'redoing a poor job of
communicating is the emotionalshift in the city.
(01:16):
And they're also ignoring thecommunity outpouring and
unification that's happening inthe face of the invasion and
terror that's being visited onour city.
If I could tell anyone whatit's like, I think it would be,
well, I think it's kind ofimpossible to convey completely
(01:38):
because, in many ways, formillions of people in this city,
life is continuing the way thatit always does.
They're going to go to grocery,get groceries, they're going
out to dinner, they're meetingwith friends, they're taking
their kids to after-schoolactivities.
And in between all of this,there are whole communities
(01:59):
where things are absolutely notnormal, where they are looking
over their shoulder every timethey leave their house or
they're afraid to leave theirhouse, or they're mourning the
disappearance of a loved one ora child, and they're wondering
if they're going to be next ortheir family's going to be next.
So there, it's not just aboutthe individual acts of agents
(02:21):
coming and snatching people offthe street.
It's about the kind of miasmaof uncertainty and fear that has
invaded many people's dailylife.
Even people like myself, who Idon't, I am a very low priority
person in the eyes ofimmigration.
(02:43):
I'm a citizen, I'm pretty whitepresenting, I live in a wealthy
neighborhood, or at least asomewhat wealthier neighborhood
than many people here in thecity.
And so I fly under the radar.
I have very little fear thatI'm going to be randomly stopped
and interrogated by ICE.
(03:04):
But it doesn't stop me fromfeeling like I'm under attack
and the people in my communityare under attack.
Because the reality is thatfascism doesn't need fascism
isn't going to be over.
This isn't going to be done.
They're not going to leave justbecause all the Latinos are
gone.
They're going to need anotherenemy.
(03:24):
Fascism always needs anotherenemy.
So maybe it'll be people whospoke up against this first
round, or people who criticizeCharlie Kirk, or people who
criticize the president, or whomake fun of things on social
media.
So there's always going to bean enemy that they can
persecute.
They're just happening to startwith us.
(03:44):
They're definitely not goingafter the uh the worst of the
worst.
What they're going after isthey're going after the elote
man, and they're going after thetamali lady, and they're going
after the landscapers, andthey're going after two women
(04:05):
who were waiting in line to picktheir children up from school.
They smashed their windows andthey dragged them out of the
car.
Um close to my house, they werestymied by community members
who were trying to warn peoplethat they were on the streets.
And so they released tear gasinto the community while
(04:25):
children were at recess nearby.
So I don't have to be directlyat risk for this to be an
assault on me as a member of theChicago community, an assault
on me as a chicana, an assaulton me as a parent.
So I think that when you thinkabout what's happening and you
see reports here and there aboutprotesters and about um federal
(04:50):
action, just put yourself inthe place of people living their
life, watching every car thatgoes by and wondering if this is
going to be the one, or maskedmen climb out of it and swarm
them and pull them away, andnobody knows where they go.
Ask ask yourself what it wouldbe like to live in that city.
Even if you're pretty sureyou're safe, you can't be
(05:11):
completely sure.
And just one extension ontothat.
Even if you feel like in someway, you know, we should just
let these enforcement activitieshappen, or not even enforcement
activities, kidnappings,frankly.
This is opening the door foranybody to get a police vest and
just start abducting women.
I guarantee it's probablyalready happened.
(05:32):
As a woman growing up, youknow, you're always told, well,
if somebody's attacking you, ifsomebody's coming after you,
then you just have to scream forhelp.
Scream as loud as you can.
While recent history is showingus that that's completely
false.
A group of men in broaddaylight, one or two men in
broad daylight, can grab me andstuff me in a car, and people
(05:54):
will stand around videotaping itand do absolutely nothing to
intervene.
I could call 911 and say,they're kidnapping my daughter.
There are masked men that won'tidentify themselves, putting my
child in a car, and the policeeither won't show up or they'll
just say, Oh, I bet they're ice.
So this makes us all unsafe,not just in the long run.
(06:16):
You know, if this becomesnormalized and we really start
ramping things up and uglythings that have popped up in
previous fascist states start tohappen here: mass graves,
disappearances, torture, secretprisons that they're in the
middle of constructing rightnow.
So as this progresses, we areall less safe.
(06:38):
So even if you don't thinkyou're directly a target, I'm
sorry to inform you, but you aremaybe just next on the list.
So that's just a little rant, Iguess, about what it's like to
be in Chicago right now.
In many ways, it's normal.
And I want to tell people tocome because our city's
wonderful.
There's art, there's music,there's resilience, there's
(07:01):
food, there's culture, there'sall these beautiful things.
And I want to tell people it'sperfectly safe because it should
be, because it has been.
But I can't promise that, notwith federal agents roaming the
loop and driving around inunmarked cars, harassing
tourists, abducting people.
And so our city's gonna suffer.
And I think that more than justan assault on Chicanos, on
(07:24):
Latinos, on anybody who's notwhite or who's different.
What this is, is this is anassault on Chicago.
This is economic punishment.
Because as long as the focus oftheir enforcement, as long as
the focus of their activities ishere, we're gonna not see as
many people coming to visit.
We're gonna see fewer tourists,we're gonna see lower foot
traffic, we're gonna seerestaurants affected, businesses
(07:47):
are gonna have to close.
This is economic warfare inaddition to being an invasion.
This is punishment.
This is not an effort toenforce the laws of this
country.
This is an effort to punishChicago and other blue cities,
which are economic powerhousesin this country.
It is an effort to punish usfor our success, which is the
(08:09):
best argument for diversity inthis country.
So I'm gonna just read reallyquick something that I wrote
about protesting at Broadview,because I have been out to
Broadview several times in thelast five weeks.
And it was a a startlingpersonal experience for a number
(08:30):
of reasons.
You know, I I've been aprotester for a long time,
protest the Iraq War, protestedin various places, but you know,
the March for Science, theMarch for Women's Rights, but
all of these were, you know,pretty much what I would
consider sanctioned protestingactivities, right?
They were uh they were put onby organizations with permits on
(08:50):
nicely highlighted routes withvolunteers and all of that kind
of thing.
So deciding to go to Broadviewwas definitely a step in uh in
in a direction that was lesscontrolled and less safe than
what I've done before.
But uh, but that but I feltlike it was really necessary.
(09:13):
So um I'm gonna read thisselection of something that I've
been working on just tohighlight how it felt um that
first time.
And then I'll talk a little bitabout emotionally, spiritually,
how I responded to thatexperience.
I had felt it boiling in myveins for months.
(10:04):
It was rage and clarity thatpushed me to broadview.
Previous generations had faceddown police dogs, water cannons,
and lynchings to give me myfreedom as a woman and as a
person of color in the UnitedStates.
In this moment, when people inmy community, gente, were
cowering in fear in their homesor being violently wrestled into
unmarked vans, they're beingvilified and mocked in the media
(10:27):
and online by cruel andignorant people, the very least
I could do was to make apersonal physical stand against
injustice.
I'm not new to protests.
I have been attending them offand on since the early 2000s
when I joined millions of peopleto cry out against the Iraq
war.
However, not since I had readabout nursing babies and
toddlers being ripped from theirparents' arms in 2018 have I
(10:49):
felt such a clear and urgentpersonal calling to put my line
on the body put my body on theline to protest.
This time, I'm not carrying myinfant daughter strapped to my
chest, but I hold her and myson's faces in my mind's eye,
steadying my anxiety with thethought that my children deserve
a mother who lives her valuesand advocates for them
(11:09):
unapologetically.
So when I round the cornertoward the immigration
processing center, theunseasonably hot September sun
beating down on my head and seethe building before me, I
understand the sudden tighteningof my breath.
It's an unassuming brickbuilding in a quiet industrial
back street around the cornerfrom the Iron Workers' Union
just off the highway.
The windows are boarded up withplywood and the parking lot is
(11:30):
fenced in with a tall automaticgate with loops of barbed wire
on top.
The road has not been blockedwith heavy mesh gates yet, like
it will be in a few short days,so I'm able to walk straight up
the road directly facing thebuilding and look up at the
three men standing on the roof,clutching weapons and desert
camouflage fatigues, balaclavasnug around their faces despite
the 90 degree heat.
Below them, a motley assortmentof people are milling around in
(11:53):
the street in front of thebuilding and chalked messages
stand out bright on the streetand the sidewalk.
There is another small knot ofpeople sitting cross-legged in
the street, in front of thedriveway, heads bowed under the
punishing sun, while a smallband of musicians sings protest
songs next to a U-Haul truckfilled with water and other
supplies for the protesters.
Directly in front of thebuilding on the sidewalk, two
(12:13):
plastic tables have been set up,covered in a messy assortment
of food and drink hastily laidout, baking in the sun.
The protesters are variouslyholding Mexican flags, U.S.
flags, and wearing Palestiniancolors.
There are older people, men andwomen dressed like they're
headed to the grocery store, andyoung people in all black with
kaffias loosely around theirnecks.
There are disabled protestersand middle-aged people like me.
(12:36):
Women dressed in yoga pants,and some people in various
uniforms.
A short man dressed in privatesecurity uniform catches my eye
and we start talking.
He's a Latino with red hair andgreen eyes, short and slight
with a thin, sharp face andlips, stopping by on his way to
work to see what's happening.
He reminds me kind ofsuperficially of one of my
(12:57):
cousins having a similar slightfoxiness to his features.
In between us and the buildingis a thin line of broad view
police, standing in relaxedgroups of two or three along the
sidewalk.
Suddenly, a cry goes up.
They're coming out, and aloading dock opens, a loading
dock door opens to reveal atight formation of uniformed ice
agents wearing gas masks andcarrying weapons.
(13:17):
They walk out, and theprotesters immediately surge
forward except for thoseblocking the driveway.
There are angry shouts and signwaving.
Unexpectedly, I offend myselfgalvanized to join the general
rush forward to yell at the mendressed mostly in camouflage,
with their sweating faces hiddenbehind thick balaclava's
tactical goggles and gas masks.
White hot rage swamps any fearor apprehension I might feel
(13:39):
approaching armed men, and Ijoin the yelling, chanting group
standing toe-to-toe with theagents.
The agents spread out, pressingforward to try and clear a path
for a car as unified cries ofshame, shame ring out on the
streets.
Throughout the morning, thescene is repeated again and
again, sometimes to clear a pathfor a car, sometimes to clear
the path for a van.
Once or twice they come out tothe loading dock and just stand
(13:59):
menacingly behind the line oflocal police officers holding
their weapons and looking out atus, and glance up and see one
of the officers on the roofaiming his tear gas launcher at
us, and I point up at him,showing him that I know where he
is and that I'm unafraid.
The surge of confrontation andretreat would continue through
the hours that I was there.
Eventually, overcome withemotion, I knelt across from the
facility and I wailed, bentdouble with rage and grief while
(14:22):
fellow protesters held spacefor me.
I cried for the detained,frightened and confused, for
their family members wonderingwhere they might be, for the
people trying to live theirlives to the fear that they
might be snatched, even for theagents sweating in camo who
could take money to tearfamilies apart.
I cried for my country, I criedfor myself and my own
helplessness in the face of theviolence that had come to my
(14:44):
city.
And I think when people go tothis kind of protest and you
(15:32):
confront state violence in thisway, I think that you have to be
prepared for an incrediblesurge of emotion, for an
overwhelming desire to eitherrun away or to move forward, to
do something.
And so when I returned toBroadview, well, when I was
(15:55):
there, I met a group of youngpeople and they had brought Sage
with them and they had a candleand we prayed together and we
smudged each other to try andclear out some of the grief and
the anger and just the heavinessof being in a place of so much
suffering and conflict.
(16:15):
So I think that when you go, ifyou go to a protest, and I hope
you do, because I think it'simportant for all of us to take
to the streets and show up whereand when we can.
But I think if you go to aprotest, just be ready.
Say your prayers, do yourmeditation, bring your sacred
objects, whatever they are,anoint yourself because you are
kind of going into battle.
You're going into spiritualbattle on behalf of yourself, on
(16:39):
behalf of ideals that you holdfor the community that you love.
And also, you know, prepare,uh, prepare a ceremony for
yourself when you come back toyour house, take a shower, cool
off, drink tea, watch somethingfunny, meditate, pray, do
something to reconnect you toyour calmer, cooler self and to
help process a lot of thefeeling that you have
(17:02):
experienced being in that kindof state, elevated state.
I think I well, I know I'mgoing to continue to take part
in protests and actions.
And obviously, we're entering atime when speaking out and
standing up could be risky ordangerous.
But I think it's important forus to speak clearly with each
(17:23):
other and to hold in, hold closeto us the reasons and the
motivations that we do this.
And that we do it out of loveand we do it out of a love of
justice and a love of communityand a desire to make our country
a better place.
We can't pretend that where wewere before Trump was a just
(17:44):
society.
We can't pretend that it wasperfect.
We can't pretend that therewere not human rights violations
because there were.
And also we have theopportunity to work together to
make it better.
But we need to remember ourspiritual tools when we enter
into this kind of fight.
So this is sort of aspontaneous offering on this
podcast of the story and thesewords.
(18:06):
And I hope that as we move intothis weekend and especially the
No Kings protest on Saturday, Ihope that you arm yourself for
the battles ahead and that youfind your community and you draw
(18:26):
strength from them because youare not alone in your anger and
your rage and your fear and yourlove.
You're not alone.
We're all together in this.