They Cared About the Fires, but not the Raids—WTF
Last year, when wildfires overwhelmed wealthy parts of LA, I witnessed privileged white folks in a wealthy neighborhood show up distressed at a yoga studio I work at. Students asked the studio owner to make a public statement. She did so quickly and visibly with a newsletter detailing resources and a call for collective care.
Let’s fast forward to ICE raiding immigrant neighborhoods across the United States. In 2018, I clearly remember the disgust I felt when the Trump administration announced a ‘zero tolerance’ policy on immigration. I would be remiss if I did not mention that people were being placed in detention centers that were established during the Obama administration when deportations first began to surge in the current millennia.
I got into a heated debate about this with my co-worker back in February. I had to emphasize that no human is illegal when she kept doubling down on the importance of following ‘proper' immigration processes like her family had done. I found myself stuck on a ferris wheel that made me sick—a logical fallacy of circular reasoning that went nowhere. In that moment, I stepped away from the conversation and it was important for both of us that I honored that. And the studio?
Nada.
They cried over Malibu going up in flames. They posted about their favorite hiking trails being threatened. They asked for statements when their comfort was disrupted.
But when it’s ICE in East LA? When people suffering don’t look like them? When people are undocumented, working-class, Black and Brown? Violent silence.
This isn’t just about one workplace. It’s the same pattern I’ve seen again and again . A choreography of white innocence, fragility, privilege, and complicity. It becomes clearest when conversations are policed such as when teachers and staff are being told to keep politics out of the studio. But what’s more political than protecting whiteness at the cost of our voices?
I’m not here to make people comfortable.
My dear Earthlings, it’s time to check-in. Are you truly an ally if your outrage is optional? Does your idea of community exclude the experiences of the very people whose blood has been spilled in the name of white supremacy? Do you hear the cry of the sacred land and lineages that have been stolen for you to be here? Have you considered the ecosystems that you choose to exploit on your Cabo vacay, wedding in Peru, or retreat in Guatemala?
Any justifications created to get to a net-zero of harm don’t mean much to me when it comes to my people. Our trauma cannot be treated like a moral math problem.
A mi gente: I see you. You are loved, protected, and worthy of safety.
To everyone else, this question matters: if you cared about the fires, but not the raids, ask yourself—