[Fuusmchat] Fw: In One Anothers Hands

Martha McGovern marthamcg at suddenlink.net
Thu May 14 10:20:43 CDT 2020




From: Meg A. Riley, Church of the Larger Fellowship 
Sent: Thursday, May 14, 2020 10:02 AM
To: marthamcg at suddenlink.net 
Subject: In One Anothers Hands


      Meg talks about overt racism of all of the systems in this country. 
        
                                 
                                 
                                 
                                "I need to find paths to resistance or boil in my own rage." 
                                 
                                 
                                 

                                  

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                                WEEKLY MESSAGE FROM MEG 
                                 
                                 
                                 
                                 

                                Dear Friends,


                                Facebook just reminded me of a post I made seven years ago:


                                There’s a story of a family that goes into a restaurant and sits down. “What would you like?” the waitress asks the young child, who answers, “I want a hot dog.” The parent interrupted and said, “No, chicken and peas for this youngster!” The waitress keeps looking at the kid and says, “Do you want ketchup on your hotdog?” The kid looks at the parent in astonishment and says, “She thinks I’m real!” Today, the government of Minnesota told me they think my family is real. It is amazing how deeply that matters.


                                That was written the day that the Minnesota legislature voted for marriage equality. At the time, I wasn’t even in a relationship, so a marriage of any kind was far from my mind. 
                                But to know that people like me were valued were included in the people who were supported by laws, affected me tremendously. I breathed air I hadn’t even known I wasn’t breathing before. I grieved the losses of all those who had died along the way and weren’t there to breathe that new air with me. I knew in my cells how it felt to be valued, and I knew just how different that felt from how it had been before.


                                Right now, the amount of clean air that can’t be breathed by Black people in this COVID virus knocks me over daily. 
                                We are not all experiencing the same pandemic. The latest available COVID-19 mortality rate for Black Americans is 2.2 times higher than the rate for Latinos, 2.3 times higher than the rate for Asians, and 2.6 times higher than the rate for Whites. And that’s just the COVID deaths we KNOW about (and only 80 percent of the ones we know about have known race and ethnicity).

                                The combination of terror these statistics hold, with the overt racism of all of the systems and of the leadership of the country, is, literally, deadly. Who is real? Who counts? Whose life, or death, matters? This is the subtext of all of the briefings, encouragements to go back to work, and decision-making by the people in power.

                                This week I was part of an 85 car caravan protesting the indifference towards workers’ safety and lives at a poultry processing plant in rural Minnesota where COVID is rampant. The workers are primarily Somali and Latinx immigrants. It felt like very little to offer, to put signs on our cars insisting on workers’ safety and drive back and forth in front of the plant. Still, the workers appreciated the support, and it was on the front page of the Minneapolis paper, so hopefully, some pressure is being felt. 


                                Honestly, though, I was so grateful for any small action I could take that I needed to be there. The combination of witnessing indifferent cruelty with homebound isolation is a bad one for me. I need to find paths to resistance or boil in my own rage. I need to know other people are as angry as I am, and also ready to resist.

                                As we move forward in these days, there is a great deal I don’t know that none of us know. But here’s something I do know: Every single person’s life and well-being matters. We are connected to one another and what harms one, harms all. Not all of us may be indispensable workers, but there are no expendable people. We need one another to survive. Our liberation, our very life, is in one anothers’ hands.


                                To all the Black people in the CLF: I see you. You matter profoundly to me. I’m in it for the fight.  


                                To all the people of color in the CLF with particular reasons to feel vulnerable today: I see you. You matter profoundly to me. I’m in it for the fight.

                                Black lives matter.  

                                Warmly,

                                Meg 
                                  
                                 

                                  

                                Meg A. Riley
                                Senior Minister 
                                 
                                 
                                 
                                 
                                 
                                 
                                 
                                 
                                 
                                 
                                 

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                                questformeaning.org 
                                  
                                 

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