Thread by @kathleenelee

This is a story from when I was young, and first shared 3 yrs ago: My dad is a garbage man and has worked for a private, not city run, company for over 20 years. This company is owned by an Italian American family. Employed at this company are a large number of Mexican Americans

One particularly grueling role in the industry is the MRF line, or Materials Recovery Facility to receive, separate and prepare recyclables from all incoming trash. The majority of the employees at our MRF are Mexican women. Mothers, sisters, daughters.

On one horrendous day, one of these women found the worst case scenario: the cold and lifeless body of a newborn infant. After some investigation, the mother was identified. She wasn't a criminal or a monster, she was a child herself, deathly afraid and felt without options.

The family that own the dump moved forward to adopt the baby officially, giving her a name and an identity, and provided a proper service for the child at our Catholic church, all at the urging of the MRF employees.

I attended this service with my father. My father's relationship with the church had it's ups and downs but as a father and a member of the Dump community, he was moved to attend. I received First Communion and Confirmation at the church,

and of all my siblings always felt the strongest about practicing a small piece of our grandmother's (Irish immigrant) culture. I distinctly remember the lump in my throat when I saw the tiny casket, but more than anything, the 100's of Mexican women and their families

from the company, and the community as a whole. Usually our parish had to compete with ski conditions to get people in the door on days not Christmas or Easter, but this was not the case today.

Curiously enough there were another set of services that received far more consistent attendance: the Spanish language masses offered at alternate times for the large number of native speakers in our community.

The women and their families as well as my usually more stoic father wept for the child, and her mother. Women and children are at the core of the family unit in the hispanic community, and it shook these women to that core.

Reflecting on this moment in today's all the more relevant climate tugs on several heartstrings:
1. That girl who thought she had no other options. Too afraid to get birth control, an abortion, tell her family to arrange an adoption, etc.

Maybe she wasn't legally here and was afraid if she went to a state funded clinic that she would be deported. Maybe she didn't even know if women in her predicament even had rights on this matter. Imagine if those services were no longer available at all for girls just like her?

2. My fathers Mexican coworkers. The Italian owners of his company. My Irish grandmother. SHATTERING the stereotype that certain coifed mouthpieces that shall not be named insinuate of immigrants in this country being lazy, criminals, no interest in assimilation, etc.

Not only were these women doing the dirtiest of work, they are part of a tight-knit community of families. MY community.
*Around the same time one of my friends supported her sister as her husband was deported, put in years long limbo in Mexico, before being allowed to return

3. The Catholic faith. Regardless of belief or flawed history, one of the most fundamental pillars of the Catholic faith is helping those who cannot help themselves. Jesus wasn't exactly hanging out with the 1%...

There was a time that being a Christian meant sharing responsibility to take care of our downtrodden or less privileged. Not ban them, deported them, incarcerate them. Above all living in Christ's image means loving your fellow human unconditionally, and without judgement.

3 YEARS ago the rhetoric disturbed me. I was afraid from day 1 of the road we might head down. I never thought the orange one was a joke. Immigration is something that permeated my white privilege bubble at a young age.

This story encapsulates the hypocrisy of some "christians", the treatment of immigrants despite them working the jobs that keep our society propped up and how women's bodies are treated. These issues haven't suddenly popped up. They've been here now emboldened further by monsters

"This isn't who we are" is unfortunately not the case. Ignoring the skeletons in our closets keeps bringing us back to the same place. We need to face our history. I believe we can be better than who we are and have been, but it starts but taking a look at how we got here.

That means acknowledging our privilege, holding fellow white people accountable, using our voices and taking meaningful action. We can't ignore injustice that seemingly doesn't affect us. History has shown what turning the other cheek will do.

"If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor. If an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse and you say that you are neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality."

Know the how to be an ally and speak up when you see bigotry or abuse of power, practice EMPATHY gain a deeper understanding of the experiences you'll never understand, call your reps, and come November - vote every one of these mf'ers out #KeepFamiliesTogether