Amid the turbulence of recent weeks, a lot of us have struggled to absorb the portent of all the Trump administration’s actions. Of three executive orders issued by the White House on Feb. 9, for example, most news stories focused on the orders' false claims about crime within the United States, border militarization, and protection of U.S. police.
This post originally appeared on Brant's personal blog, Shalom Rav.
On Feb. 15, President Trump and Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu met for the first time, discussing solutions for peace in Israel and Palestine. At a surface level, AFSC can agree with some of the ideas they put forward, but we are deeply concerned about their positions undergirding these ideas.
In the face of immigration raids and anti-immigrant policies and rhetoric, communities across the country are taking a stand. Here's what we're reading to learn more:
Immigrant Communities Battle New Anti-Sanctuary-City Bills in Red States by Candice Bernd via Truthout
Last Sunday, I visited Friendship Park, which is located beside the wall that separates the U.S. from Mexico at the most southwest point of the continental United States. In the park, people whose families have been separated by borders and inhumane immigration policies were spread out along the wall, talking with each other across the barrier but unable to sit together, eat together, or hug each other.
Sa'ed Atshan is a Palestinian Quaker and an assistant professor of Peace and Conflict Studies at Swarthmore College. He had been invited to speak to Friends Central Upper School students on February 3rd. But Sa’ed’s talk was cancelled.
By Gabriela Flora and Jordan Garcia
This Valentine's Day, AFSC is delivering over a thousand Valentine's Day cards made by Denver area community members—volunteers, school children, faith groups, book clubs, and individuals—to people detained at the for-profit GEO immigration detention center. We've done this every February for the past eight years.
This year, the task was larger because GEO has nearly tripled the number of people they detain—mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles, and others who are part of our communities.