This land

This week was my daughter’s end of kindergarten ceremony at school. Yes, here on the East coast we are still in school - for another week. It began with the children filing into the school auditorium to Taylor Swift’s “Never Grow Up” playing over the loudspeaker, which could only just be heard over the crying and sniffling parents.

And then we were called to rise, to start the event the same way our children do every morning, by reciting the pledge of allegiance.

“I pledge allegiance to the flag…”

The parents awkwardly began as they faced their children on the risers. I stared at the kaleidoscope of children’s faces before me. We are so fortunate to live in a diverse town that takes extra steps to make sure that our elementary schools represent our community as a whole.

“…with liberty and justice for all.”

The words echoed around me as we retook our seats. For those of us who believe in “liberty and justice for all”, in upholding the constitution, of which due process – even for undocumented immigrants – is a part of, it has been a trying week.

While the current administration’s process for deportations is not only unconstitutional but inhumane – it is equally alarming to turn away from the almost entirely peaceful protests to see what other programs they are trying to push through: devastating cuts to Medicaid that will have life or death consequences, and a 40% cut to the NIH which would push back medical research by decades… just to name two.

Again, I looked at the proud, cherub-cheeked faces before me. Less than half of my daughter’s school identifies as Caucasian. When my daughter understands what identifying as something means, she will identify as Hispanic. In the winter she might be white passing, but it only takes one weekend in the sun for her complexion to darken to a beautiful yet unmistakable brown sugar.

I am white and English speaking. Aside from being a woman, I can largely move through this country without fear. For years I have tried to see my privilege and use my voice to publicly advocate, vote, protest, and write – though am aware I could always do more. It shouldn’t take being personally affected to speak out against what we should all know is wrong.

Because one day you will be affected.

Last month after a gig Miguel performed in Nevis we were going through customs at the airport when Miguel was flagged and escorted down a hallway. I was told to wait near the customs lines, but followed Miguel and the agent as far as they would allow so that I knew exactly which door he was taken into. Just in case…

But, in case of what?

I didn’t even know, in case he didn’t come back? In case his common name: Miguel Cervantes, was flagged as being an undocumented immigrant and he was illegally deported to a jail in some foreign country? That sounds crazy! That could never happen! Except it’s not, and it is.

I hadn’t felt fear for Miguel’s well-being like that since 2016. It was shortly after Trump was elected when during a Chicago performance of Hamilton a man shouted Trump supporting profanities from the balcony while my husband stood center stage. The man was removed and arrested. Thanks to the producers and Broadway in Chicago, metal detectors were immediately installed at the theater and for a year Miguel had a security officer escort him from the theater to his car.

My husband, an actor in a play about the founding of our nation, required security.

Amidst everything else that was going on in our lives during our time in Chicago, I had almost forgotten what that kind of fear tasted like, (I’m lucky in this regard, I know). That is until I was watching Miguel be escorted through an unmarked door at the airport.

Thankfully, a few minutes later Miguel walked out of the unmarked door. The agents had run his name in the computer and cleared of him of whatever flag had been raised and on we went with our lives.

There is no debate that this country, MY country, YOUR country, needs massive immigration reform and has for some time. Reform that will be complicated and not able to be broken down into sound bites. Reform that academic and policy experts should create because they have the knowledge to do so.

However, I do not believe that because our elected leaders have been incapable of making and passing these reforms that families should be separated. That undocumented immigrants who pay a higher effective tax rate than 55 mega corporations and several BILLIONARES are the ones that should suffer from our government’s ineptitude.

Back in the elementary school auditorium, I scan the innocent six-year-old faces before me and wonder if any of them are in danger. Following, “You’re a Grand Old Flag” the students are now singing “This Land is Your Land.” I can admit the program’s patriotic theme is hitting a sour chord within me. But I have a vague memory about the origins of this song in particular.

After the hugs, kisses, juice boxes and teacher photos I went home and did a little research. “This Land is Your Land” was written by Woody Guthrie in 1940. It was his response to “God Bless America”. His goal being to write a more inclusive song for ALL Americans. Most of us are familiar with the first few verses about the redwood forests and Gulf Stream waters. But I don’t think I had ever heard or read the last three verses.

As I went walking I saw a sign there,
And on the sign it said "No Trespassing."
But on the other side it didn't say nothing.
That side was made for you and me.

In the shadow of the steeple I saw my people,
By the relief office I seen my people;
As they stood there hungry, I stood there asking
Is this land made for you and me?

Nobody living can ever stop me,
As I go walking that freedom highway;
Nobody living can ever make me turn back
This land was made for you and me.

Woody forgot one important part: that this land was actually “made” for the natives it was stolen from, but I’ll forgive him the omission. Because he did understand, even 85 years ago, that America SHOULD be for you and me. However then, as it is now, it is for the people on the other side of that “No Trespassing” fence.

But for the sake of the sweet six-year-olds singing their hearts out on those risers – we must hold our leaders accountable for what we have been taught since kindergarten:

This land was made for you and me - with liberty and justice for all.

ID: A selfie of Kelly and her daughter smiling outside after the kindergarten ceremony. Kelly is wearing a denim shirt and her daughter is wearing a frilly white dress with pink and purple butterflies and a purple sequin cat ear headband. There is a strawberry over her daughter’s face to protect her identity.