Heartbroken But Not Broken
We carry on together
I remember a heated debate with one of my friends in grad school over what made a community strong. She contended that the vision and outlook of a group of people were the most critical factor. People can work around holes in school roofs, uneven roads, and polluted rivers when they come together and use their ingenuity. She’d seen it in underfunded schools and local governments: tightly-knit communities could overcome any obstacle.
I fiercely disagreed.
In my opinion, a community needed solid resources and thoughtful social systems to thrive. Yes, the human spirit was remarkable, but it had to be supported in tangible ways throughout a community. If infrastructure didn’t matter, then why do we work so hard to improve hospitals, internet access, food systems, climate readiness, and school curricula? To me, saying that a community should thrive no matter what, if they had the right attitude, was simultaneously saying that individuals were to blame when their community struggled and failed.
There was no way to settle a winner. The topic was clearly influenced by our ontological differences, and no amount of swapping peer-reviewed articles would concretely determine the outcome. In the end, I felt like hers was a staunchly Republican, blame-the-victim, God-will-provide perspective. And I resented it greatly.
It’s funny how now I’m kind of hoping for her to be right.
My commute yesterday was, as is so common now, full of heartbreaker headlines on the radio. You all know them, and I won’t go into too much detail for all of our sake right now. I’ll suffice to say that I was trying to keep it together so my toddler had a happy ride to school. Then my husband called.
“They detained Kilmar,” he said with a heavy sigh and then a pause. “There was a big rally for him outside the ICE facility where he turned himself in. It was just awful to watch.”
He sighed again, another weighted pause. He too sounded like he was trying to hold it together. Then he asked me what I thought of the rally—was it good news, or just altogether dark? I thought for a moment, because I was torn.
It is inconceivably awful that he was taken, that there was a reason for the Baltimore protest at all. The sights and speeches were devastating. And the looming threat of this unhinged administration is purely terrifying.
But the rally itself? I think it is good news.
Hundreds of people showed up with signs and banners on an early Monday morning to tell Kilmar Ábrego García that he is not alone, to hear him tell them to keep fighting for freedom, and to show everyone that they care enough about their fellow citizen to push back in the face of Trump’s racist and retaliatory rule. Organizational leaders, religious leaders, family members, friends, strangers, and a deeply caring legal team stood together. Prayed together. Cried together. They vowed to grow, through love, as they resisted injustice.
And it’s clear that they are all working in concert. They united around this case, one representative of so many others, and shared their resources to demand a fair outcome. They brought their supporters and unique networks together. All comrades, all connected forever because they choose to care together for this fellow human.
They are creating a deeply felt bond that will last long beyond this early morning meeting. One that will not easily be forgotten or broken.
That’s a strong community. That’s a community learning to rise after a hard fall—or shove to the ground. It’s one building tight-knit bonds, establishing group norms of bravery and sympathy, and laying the groundwork to create a new and better world in the aftermath of unimaginable tragedy. That is a beautiful community, and it is capable of anything.
I still don’t believe that people can thrive without institutional support. We need healthy infrastructure and functional social systems to live well. We need a society capable of supporting our basic needs. We aren’t magically able to manifest a foundation for our higher dreams and ideals.
But at the same time, I believe that when people come together, they have a bit of magic in them. Like my colleague, I know that human resilience can shine and amaze us under the most unlikely of circumstances. It’s not deterministic of a lasting community, but it sure can give hope for a better tomorrow. As we struggle, we learn and connect, and we are better prepared to build community when the right moment arises.
Today, I am shattered again. I am heartbroken again. I am again lost for answers on how the United States of today is even possible and how we find a way out of this political nightmare.
But I still have hope. I see possibility, today because of Baltimore. And I know it’s not the only movement gaining conviction and capability right now. I see resilient groups coming together everywhere, and despite everything, I can’t help but feel that we will survive this and rebuild with a higher capacity and understanding than ever before.
Thank you to everyone showing up to make good news in the bad, and to spread that oh-so-important courage that keeps our community strong.
With love and hope for the future,
Stephanie
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Watch the full Baltimore Rally here:
I was there. The rally took place in the middle of the city at 6:30am on a Monday, the first day of school. Nevertheless, people showed up for Kilmar and his family. I was overcome with sadness knowing that the full force of the federal government is being used to terrorize them. I was also struck by the energy from the community that was there to bear witness and fight for justice. There are more of us than there are of them. We need to understand the power we have and use it as a force for good. We cannot sit back and expect others to save us. We must save ourselves.
What a great piece. Thanks for writing it!