Note from Minneapolis

I almost didn't write this because what my wife & I are doing isn't all that special. Then I realized that's kind of the point.

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With that said, I’m not sure how much I will even write about it all. I woke up exhausted this morning. At the beginning of the surge, it felt like the rest of the country was going about its business largely oblivious to the cruelty that was playing out on our streets. That was awful. There were times when I felt like I was losing my mind. Obviously, that’s not the case any longer. But, as I write this, those f*ckers are still here. They’re still terrorizing people.

My wife’s and my main contribution has been delivering food to people who cannot safely leave their homes. I was surprised to get up one morning and find an article in the New York Times about the church-based relief effort we’re involved with; I’d thought we were trying to keep it a secret. I guess it just got too big to hide. Anyway, here’s a link to the article, in case you’re interested. The day after the article appeared, ICE staged ten or so vehicles in the parking lot of the restaurant next to the church. They’re big on intimidation, those guys.

ICE has been up and down our street several times that I’m aware of, but it’s nothing like we’d be experiencing if we lived ten blocks north or east of here. At one end of my block is an elementary school, and at the other, a children’s music school. On the day of the first big protest downtown, the -10° before windchill day, we noticed our street filling up with cars. Bundled-up parents and children carrying signs were making their way down to the music school. I grabbed my sign and joined them. The woman who owns the music school was leading the children in age-appropriate chanting and stomping (the latter primarily intended to keep them moving in the cold). Some of the parents joined in, too, but, clearly, this was the kids’ opportunity to protest. School-aged children in the Twin Cities have been powerfully affected by the federal intrusion; schools have been particular targets. My friend Beth Hawkins writes about it here. The parents were mostly focused on patrolling the perimeter and steering the kids who got too cold towards one of the braziers that had been lit in the courtyard. After the protest, I found a sign on the street in front of my house.

Alex Pretti was killed the next day. There was a call for a citywide moment of silence, and at 7 p.m., we went outside with our candles. Everyone was streaming towards the elementary school so we joined them for what turned out to be a full-blown candlelight vigil. There were hundreds of people there, of all ages. We formed an oval that stretched across the parking lot and playground, and held our candles in silence for a long time. Eventually, a man started to lead everyone in singing, but I had to leave then as I’d only dressed to be outside for a minute or two. You’ve seen the memes about attacking a people descended from Vikings in the middle of winter? Those meme-makers clearly didn’t have someone like me in mind.

While Spoonbridge and Cherry is the piece of sculpture most associated with Minneapolis, my favorite sculpture is the Minnehaha Bunny at the corner of Portland and Minnehaha Parkway, where I walk with my dogs most days. We decorate him for every holiday and in response to current events (and when I say “we,” I mean people unknown to me who have taken it upon themselves to do this, which is the kind of energy that’s driving the whole of Minnesota right now). Anyway, I have never loved the Minnehaha Bunny more than I love him now.

I guess the thing I most want to emphasize to you is, everyone’s doing something. They’re tapping in through their local, organic networks. I didn’t know about the events on my block before they happened; our son is 27, and I haven’t been part of a PTA for a very long time. (The PTAs have been doing heroic work, by the way. This week I put in a call to the elementary school to ask if we could serve in an alumni capacity.) There are so many things that need doing right now. Observing (which has grown quite dangerous, constitutional protections notwithstanding); rapid response (ditto); protest; humanitarian relief; school escorts and patrols; supporting restaurants and immigrant-owned businesses; funding rent relief. There are many, many people doing absolutely essential things that I’m not brave enough to do. But driving into targeted neighborhoods to deliver food to frightened people requires a bit of nerve, and it is also essential. There is enormous strength, and comfort, in everyone acting together, everyone doing what they can.

Friends, before this is over, all of us, everywhere, will probably be called upon to do this.

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I haven’t been able to paint worth a $^%#@ lately so I don’t have anything new to show you. However, I did want to let you know that these three paintings —

— have been juried into a mixed media exhibition, “The Mixed Effect,” at the White Bear Center for the Arts. “The Mixed Effect” will be showing in the main exhibition hall from February 9th through March 27th. We’re planning to attend the Community Reception on Thursday, March 5th, from 6 to 8 p.m. The White Bear Center for the Arts is located at 4971 Long Avenue in White Bear Lake. Please stop by if it works for you. Community and Art are everything right now.

Take care. Be good to each other.

Carol