I take it personally

The deportation police in action.

My father was an immigrant.  He came here from Canada.  He was a white man.  Soon after arrival, he got rid of his Prairie accent and therefore blended in perfectly with other white folks around him.  No one ever asked him where he was from or questioned whether he belonged here.

My children are immigrants, adopted while we were living overseas.  They are dark of skin and hair.  They have lived almost their entire lives in the USA and consider themselves 100% Ohioan.  Even so, people question their origins, or assume they are most recent arrivals.  On their way up they were sometimes on the receiving end of racist insults when playing sports against rival teams located away from our city.  I often wonder lately: if Trump is returned to office and the mass deportations begin, what are my children to do?  Carry their passports and naturalization certificates around with them at all times?  

I live in a neighborhood with people from all over the world.  What will I do, when I see the Deportation Police or vigilantes knocking on doors to see who can justify their presence here?  What are they to do if their paperwork is not immediately handy?  Even if they have the right documents, will they be believed, especially if they are less than fluent in English or simply nervous about being questioned?  

When I think about consequences for my family and my neighbors, I take all this very personally indeed. I like to hope that I would be as passionate if these scenarios were happening only to people who I don’t know, but I also hope that I will never be put to the test.