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I live in a “politically diverse” household. Though I’m not a registered Democrat, I’ve voted for Democratic candidates my entire adult life. My husband, on the other hand, is what I lovingly call “politically wacky.” (What I mean is he’s an enthusiastic libertarian.) Throughout our 12 years together, I have often found his distrust of big government extreme, paranoid and often confusing.
But then there’s this: During World War II, my husband’s grandfather was placed in an internment camp, because he was a Japanese American. He was a citizen, and it didn’t matter.
In the weeks since ICE began its operations in the Twin Cities, in the aftermath of Renee Good’s killing, and now in the wake of Alex Pretti’s, I have been reeling. I feel sick. The America I have known is far from perfect, but this? I never expected to see my own government terrorize my community. In conversations and on social media, I hear the same refrain: “This is not America.”
When I said those words to my husband, he turned to me and said, “Yes. It is.”
He has not been reeling the way I — and so many other members of my community — have been. Not because he condones what is happening, but because he is not surprised. His America is one that has done real, measurable harm to a loved one. He has always lived with the possibility that something like it could happen again. When you’ve carried that weight your whole life, none of our current circumstances feels so far-fetched. That awareness is what shaped his very niche, often difficult-to-understand political perspective.
There’s a lot of blame being cast on Trump, on Trump’s America, and I hear that. I do. He is our current president, and these are the directives of his administration. It is too simple to blame one man, as if our nation did not already have capacity for atrocities. The United States of America is and has always been one with a capacity for violence against its own people.