So often, I hear the sentiment passed around to “grow in the place you are planted”. But what happens when the soil of your home land has been poisoned? Do you leave? How do you continue to grow? And if you do somehow manage to survive, to blossom into a beautiful and precious flower, what if someone comes along and plucks you away from the home you have created- the roots you have planted?
I was born a flower thief in a society-a culture- of people who steal flowers; we tend not to think much of it. Flowers are simply pretty things, object decorations. I bought these flowers at Trader Joe’s, Rainforest Alliance-certified- and these flowers were likely grown in Latin America. They were taken from their home, a place I don’t know- and like all flowers harvested and put into vases, these flowers will soon wilt away here, in the foreign, alien land of my tiny kitchen. I don’t know what sort of flower family they left behind; I wasn’t taught to care, growing up. I was simply taught to treasure beautiful things, even to take from them- to try and be as beautiful and strong as the flowers, who continue to survive even as they are harvested and passed on from land to land.
Sitting with this bouquet, taking photographs of these beautiful little plant lives the day before the 4th of July outside my apartment home in the South of the United States, I wasn’t really thinking of flowers at all.
So many of us have been taught to celebrate July the 4th in the United States as a Day of Independence, as a holiday of freedom. But who is truly free and independent on this holiday? Are we all equally free?
Right now, flagrant human rights violations are being carried out by the U.S. Immigrants and Customs Enforcement funded by American government. Children and their families are being torn apart and brought to live in abhorrent conditions simply because they have sought refuge in “the land of the free”- more often than not because their own land was so unsafe.
“This land is your land, this land is my land”- has that American value ever held true? After all, where did our beautiful American land come from? It was conquered; stolen- from the ancestors of so many of the indigenous peoples who are presently being locked into cages and enclosures unfit for human habitation. Our country wishes to bar people at our borders who seek what is rightfully theirs to reclaim. Who are we to keep anyone from seeking shelter and making a life for themselves here? Where is the great, ever-elusive “American Dream” for those most in need of it?
The physical, emotional, and spiritual abuse that has and continues to be inflicted upon our migrant, immigrant, and refugee families cannot be ignored; it is nothing other than American-led terrorism. Now is a time to practice great compassion and bear witness to the human pain and suffering; we cannot look away.
There has never been a time in this country when everyone has had true independence- July the 4th serves as a reminder. Let us strive to come together as a community during these dark times and shut down these concentration camps in our own backyards, work to reunite families, and cease this cycle of trauma.
When I look at myself in my blue shirt sitting with these stolen flowers on stolen land, I see the colors associated with my country- and I see blue for Sudan’s uprising, red for the protests in Hong Kong, orange for refugee awareness, and white as a color of mourning. I’m so sorry for all this pain. Here sits my promise to work towards a global community of compassion and care.