Immigration Is Our Heritage

Every family in America who is not a Native American came from somewhere other than this country. We came from someone who crossed borders. My story isn't that different from so many others but all of our stories are important. They're important to tell and retell for family and broader audiences because they speak of experiences and courage. They also help us understand how we're all connected through shared values of looking out for future generations and how our ancestors struggled to make things better for their daughters, sons and grandchildren.

My story begins with a little girl playing near a lake in Ireland. She would play dress up by covering her hands and arms up to her elbows with mud from the lake, showing the other children her fancy made up formal gloves like the well to do women would wear. She was the daughter of a hardworking woman and a father who was a baker by trade. The family had dreams of going off to America as other Irish families had. Bridget grew into her teens and one day went off with her younger brother and sister to begin that trip. The three young people waved to their mother and father who they would never see again and began a walk of twenty some miles to the coastal port of Sligo. They boarded a ship and began their journey to that land of hopes and dreams.

Bridget became Beatrice, changing her name hoping that work would be easier to find with a more Anglicized name. She worked scrubbing floors and cleaning offices. She became a housekeeper at a fancy hunting and fishing club and found her future husband, a guide at the club. The guide's name was Bob and his family had come from Scotland and Ireland but many years before. Some had fought in the Civil War. The two eventually married and moved to New Jersey. Beatrice cleaned rooms at Seton Hall for young seminarians and Bob worked as a mail room clerk and janitor at a large company.

Others of my ancestors came from Germany and moved quickly into German neighborhoods in the Williamsport area of Pennsylvania. Hard working butchers and grocery clerks, who again made those long trips across the Atlantic ocean not really knowing what to expect or how they would find work. Their approach was to find communities of other immigrants and relatives and to stick together, working to provide services to each other. As their families grew so did their experiences and talents. They became tradesmen - carpenters, plumbers. They worked with their hands and backs as bakers, gardeners, and janitors.

I grew up learning from these immigrants. I learned about their love for their homeland as well as their love for America and what it provided to them even though there were struggles for basic needs and jobs at different points. They all went through some level of discrimination and non acceptance by other, more established citizens. Immigration is our heritage and every once in awhile we need to look back and honor it and those who paved the way for us.

And now, today, I'm sure there are little girls and boys playing near a lake or next to a river, thinking about and dreaming about a better life. Maybe putting mud on their arms and prancing around like the fancy people that they've heard about wearing evening gloves or suits and dresses. They may not speak English but they speak an understood language of just wanting and trying to do and be better. Let's embrace and welcome them.

Remembering Hiroshima

On August 6, 1945, I was a one year old playing at home in a small New Jersey town. Thousands of miles away, a US bomber, the Enola Gay dropped the world's first atomic bomb on the city of Hiroshima in Japan. In an instant tens of thousands of lives were lost, men, women and children. Other thousands were either maimed and scarred for life. Most of these Japanese citizens were civilians who had nothing to do with the war that had raged across Europe and the east. Survivors crawled through smoldering rubble and saw terrible sights of the living dead with burning flesh and missing body parts. Families were separated and lost.

The order had been given by President Harry Truman - Tru Man, an odd name as others have pointed out from a biblical sense. The scientists who had built the monstrous bomb knew immediately that they were now representatives of death and questioned what they had unleashed. But it was too late to question now. The harm had been done and others would want to replicate the weapon and the destruction.

There are still survivors from that terrible day 75 years ago and many work tirelessly to end the continued threat of nuclear war. There are others, people committed to peace and to the end of war. They to work tirelessly, marching, demonstrating, educating, praying and petitioning for an end to nuclear weapon building. Some mark this day with fasting and meditating, trying to make sense of how people continue to find horrific ways to destroy each other. In a few days we will also see remembrances of the second city destroyed by an atomic bomb in Japan, Nagasaki. Thousands more, men, women and children killed and maimed.

These are times for good people to commit to peace and an end to nuclear weapons. We all need to find our own way to make the message heard loud and clear. No to war. No to mass destruction. Refuse to accept it and refuse to participate.

Return to Schools Decision Is Heartbreaking

Watching and listening to all of the discussions taking place about children returning to school in the middle of a health pandemic is truly heartbreaking. Parents, kids, teachers, administrators and communities are all struggling with the decisions they have to make. Sadly there is no national leadership or direction to this critically important issue other than Donald Trump saying "schools have to open". Of course everyone is in agreement on schools needing to reopen but the critical issues are when and how to do it safely for all of us. I really fear that we are heading for chaos and danger for everyone if things continue to go as they seem to be going right now - every district trying to plan on their own, with little assistance from the state and federal governments.

There really doesn't seem to be recognition that without the correct planning and protocols in place, community spread will be the result of these reopenings. Why is it that we all seem to be in the mindset that school has to take place from September through June. It's a nonsensical, made up calendar that can and should be changed based on the threats that school districts and children face. People have talked about lengthened or shortened academic years forever. Lots of things should be possible relative to annual calendars but there is nothing that says schools have to open in September. 

The worst thing is that everything we are all facing was predictable - the confusion, the anger, the threat itself, the economics, the spread. Yes, everything we're facing was predictable over the past 3 or 4 months. All of that time could have been spent on a national response or it could have been spent on a true shutdown to get the Covid 19 virus under control. But instead, we've argued among ourselves about mask wearing, parties, bars reopening, if children are immune, etc., etc. Yes, we've wasted time, critical time and now a false calendar deadline puts pressure on all of us. 

The answer still exists - take the necessary time to get this virus under control as other countries have done. Yes, it's going to take us longer now but that's because we didn't do it right the first time. We all just have to bite the bullet and realize that a national shutdown based on positivity data is a necessary response at this point and that will take national leadership. If the President won't do this on his own, then elected officials in a nonpartisan way along with public health officials throughout the country have to stand up to him and make it happen.

Look no further than your children and grandchildren to see that it has to be done. Yes it's heartbreaking. Every decision being made or worse, not made, is heartbreaking. But all of us could certainly stand down for two or three weeks, stay home and wear masks.

"Together, You Can Redeem the Soul of Our Nation" John R. Lewis

Everyone should read the last words published by John Lewis. You can read them here. They are powerful words for all of us but especially for the young people involved in the Black Lives Matter movement. John Lewis is speaking clearly to a younger generation, offering them a hand  to rise up onto his shoulders. He understood the need and passion for change better than most. He understood the costs and the pain. That's why he offered his support and wisdom. He's warning us that it won't be easy. It never has been. But he's offering leadership and support that is so lacking from others.

Don't be afraid to speak up and speak out. Don't be afraid of the consequences. Depend on each other. Build bridges within movements, not walls. When you see injustice, don't let it stand, do something about it.

Let's all remember what a radical he was. He wasn't always loved. He certainly wasn't loved when he sat down in the well of the House of Representatives and led other Congresspeople in a sit in there. Also always remember that he was radical in his nonviolent resistance throughout his life. He knew and understood nonviolence. He understood its political power and its ability to force his antagonists to face their own hatred and anger. 

We owe John Lewis a great deal but he already knew that and he accepted what we gave back to him humbly. The real challenge now though is to read those words he wrote and not just today but many times as battles ahead are faced. Finally, let's celebrate the leader that he was with the wisdom to reach out to the young people who are in the streets today and tomorrow. 

Prophets and Saints Among Us - John R. Lewis

I first met John Lewis in 1965. He wasn't famous. He wasn't a big shot of any kind. I had gone down to Selma, Al. just days after the nation watched on TV as a mob of deputies beat and pushed back 600 peaceful marchers. Over the next few weeks I was in Selma, either in Brown Chapel or outside on the street trying to march from the area where police had effectively penned us all in. I was 21, a college student and pretty naive. John Lewis was 25, already a leader and very smart. 

There was a lot going on in that time and place. Much of it I've only learned about years later by reading books and talking to others who participated. While I stood facing a rope that sheriff deputies had put up to fence us in and singing protest songs with local youngsters, John Lewis, Hosea Williams, Andrew Young and James Bevel among others were fine tuning and organizing behind the scenes. Martin Luther King,  Jr. and Ralph Abernathy were away from Selma negotiating with a federal judge about the march to Montgomery. The others were left behind to keep things moving and organized. There were tensions between younger generation protesters represented by the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Council (SNCC) and the leadership of the Southern Christian Leadership Council (SCLC). There were philosophical minefields and some things had to be threaded through the eye of a needle to keep everyone focused on the same mission. This tends to happen in political movements of any type but resolution here was critical.

The nights were cold and rainy. I remember John Lewis huddled with others around a fire in a 55 gallon drum. Some people were mad and arguing about outsiders taking over their protest, their movement. Lewis would go back and forth between the fire and the Chapel and relay messages and feelings from the younger folks to the older (over 30) leaders of SCLC. That's how I remember it anyway, even though I wasn't any part of the conversations. I just knew there was tension and some of us were just supposed to keep the police focused and distracted by our presence at the rope and barricades. 

So that was my first encounter with John Lewis. We probably drank coffee from the same pot and may have shared a sandwich from the boxes that were made by people in the neighborhood. I do know we shared the warmth of that fire in the drum on a few cold nights.

I met John again in 2003. By that time most everybody knew who the Congressman from Georgia was, including me and I was in awe. I had been invited by my then Congressman Amo Houghton to go along with him on the annual Faith & Politics Institute's Congressional Pilgrimage to Alabama. At that time the Institute was Co-Chaired by Lewis and Houghton, a bit of an odd couple but they had grown to be very close, an attribute John Lewis was famous for. When Amo introduced me to John it was as "this is the fellow I told you about who was with you in Selma." John Lewis' reaction was immediate. He took my hand, pulled me toward him and we embraced while he patted me on the shoulder. "Good to see you. We'll talk along the way" he said and we did. We caught up as they say.

That trip included plane flights, bus trips, hotel stops and meals as well as stops at major civil rights historical sites. John did what he did best. He shared the stories of his past and about those sites, the good times and the bad times, the victories and the dreams not yet met. Along the way, I told John about my history after my experience in Selma. How I had gone to the Catholic Worker in NYC, met and worked with Dorothy Day, opposed the war in Vietnam, refused induction and went to federal prison. He knew of Dorothy, the Worker, her work for nonviolence and peace. He told me he was proud of the action I took against the war and thanked me for it.

His passing is hard. He was like a beacon. I'm glad he got to see that Black Lives Matter painted on the street in Washington D.C.  To look down on it and to stand on the letters. He made that and so much more happen. John Lewis was someone you could believe in. Justice and peace and reconciliation were the things he stood for but that didn't mean he couldn't get angry or raise hell when he had to. The world is a better place because of John Lewis. He knew how to laugh and sing and dance after the hard work was done. He was just one of the prophets and saints among us and we were lucky to have him. Rest in Power John Lewis.