I am a transplant to Chicago. Like the generations before me, my family found a home in Chicago twenty years ago and has been privileged to experience the vast contrasts of  this colorful city we have come to love. Chicago is challenging and audacious and hard  work and determination define the diverse people and places that weave together the  intricate fabric of this city. This city of Big Shoulders is the birthplace of people and  movements that have influenced this nation and the world. Trendsetters in the worlds  of finance, music, civil rights, academia, the arts and politics have all called Chicago  home. In fact, there is no aspect of society that has not felt the imprint of the imaginative  and creative energy of this uniquely beautiful and resilient city situated on Lake  Michigan and defined by 77 communities populated by the hopes, aspirations and  ingenuity of the people who call Chicago their home. 

Like other big American cities, Chicago reflects the American dream - a city built on the  backs and in the hearts of people determined to carve out possibilities while daring to  dance in the shadows of despair. Lest we forget that while Chicago may have been  founded by Jean Baptiste Point du Sable, the first non-Native settler and a man of  Haitian heritage and ancestry, this land was occupied by the Council of the Three Fires:  the Odawe, Ojibwa and the Potawatomi Nations. This homeland and waterways held  the stories, traditions, heritage and customs of Indigenous Brothers and Sisters, long  before others made this land their home. 

Yet, in droves over centuries, people laid claim to Chicago as this windswept city  welcomed the weary, the ambitious, the dreamers and yes, the immigrants. For some  travelers seeking new lives in the warmth of other suns, they found refuge in their new  home by the great lake. For some this was indeed a land flowing with potential that  fueled their future successes. For others, especially those African American asylum  seekers who fled the atrocities of racism in the South, Chicago provided new forms of  systemic oppression, disenfranchisement and marginalization. In their new, up-south  reality, the dreams of new lives became dreams deferred. Chicago, in all of her glory  and unimagined possibilities, drew a red line, a definitive line that clearly indicated that  not all were welcome, at least not equally. 

So as Chicago welcomed the world to establish families, businesses, communities of  faith and established itself as a center of commerce, education, the arts and industry,  what became clear was that this city was built to take on and overcome challenges. This  was the city that produced the ushered in the industrial age, hosted the World’s Fair,  built skyscrapers, cheered on the Chicago Bears, created deep dish pizza and of course,  nurtured the sensibilities of the first African American President of the United States.

In 1983, Chicago, with all of her faults and shortcomings, elected Harold Washington as  the nation’s first African American mayor who in 1985, declared Chicago as a Sanctuary City. This designation created systems of safety designed to protect immigrants from  arrest, detainment and discrimination based on their immigration status. Located in the  DNA and identity of this complex and complicated city was the realization that Chicago  had the capacity and courage to offer sanctuary to immigrants in need. 

That is, until now.  

Last Sunday, during an unseasonably warm afternoon, I experienced one of the most  viscerally impactful moments of my adult life. Never could I have imagined that the  renowned Art Institute of Chicago would become the backdrop for a parade of military  clad men, lined up in helmets, body armor, face masks and long rifles, advancing upon  unsuspecting people enjoying the beauty of a Sunday afternoon on the famed Michigan  Avenue.  

Until that moment, the intentional efforts of this administration to dismantle our  democracy in exchange for a nation under siege, had only been theoretical. Of course, I  had heard the reports of the impending arrival of the National Guard and I had  witnessed the snow plow trucks lined up to keep ICE agents at bay. I had witnessed  increased police activity and the sounds of hovering helicopters over our city, but seeing  men, overwhelmingly white men, in formation ready and equipped to seek out,  terrorize and detain human beings caused me to become enraged. 

Enraged is probably not the best word to describe my feelings as I looked at the masked  faces and automatic rifles the men carried on their chests. But, enraged is the word that  informed my immediate reaction. How could this be happening? 

These men were doing a job that perhaps caused them to question their actions, but in  that moment, all I saw were white men hunting down people they deemed to be illegals.  Dark, straight hair, tan and brown skin, perhaps an accent was all it took for a person’s  humanity to be cast aside in order to become the hunted. They were searching for their  own ideas of who belonged and who didn’t. This was the very definition of racial  profiling, and here it was, in our faces, on the streets of Chicago, a Sanctuary City. 

All I could imagine, as a Black woman in America and student of American history, was  how closely tied this moment was to the 400 year history of enslavement of African  Americans in this nation. Lest we forget!!!!! As I looked at these big men with big  weapons that could quickly kill and injure hundreds of innocent people enjoying the  bonus days of warm weather in the heart of Chicago, I imagined the feeling of their  uncaring and obtrusive hands should they grab my body. What would I do if men,  masked and menacing men, forced me to leave my child on a city sidewalk or abandon every aspect of my life. What would I do without my medication or important  paperwork? What about precious family photographs or the job I had to take care of  my family? What would happen to the house we’d worked hard to purchase over three  decades or our grandchildren, our church, our hopes? 

I could not shake the idea of the violation of my autonomy over my own body as I  imagined the terror and horrors of my foremother’s experiences in this nation in the  not-to-long-ago past. I reflected on my ancestors who were enslaved women and men  who had no power to protect their own bodies nor the children they birthed into the  world. Their bodies nor their offspring belong to them - they were property, deemed  less than human with no rights that were to be observed. They existed without the  designation of being fully human - only 3/5ths of a human being.  

They were without authority, but like oppressed people throughout history, they held  on to a power far greater than their physical being. They were connected to the power  of the Spirit of God, the will to live and the audacity to believe, hope and survive. This  is what I felt as I saw men, ready and prepared to use weapons of brutality and death,  to capture the bodies and demolish the spirits of human beings. With or without  documentation, Latino immigrants deserve to be treated with basic human dignity and  compassion. Rifles, face masks, terror and intimidation are not the solutions. 

So, to say I felt anguish, anger and pain that literally snatched the breath from my lungs  would be an accurate statement. No one deserves to be treated in this way. No woman  should have her baby ripped from her arms. People should not just disappear and  Chicago is better than this moment. We cannot forget that in this city, the best and worst  this world has to offer can be found. In this city, millions of people live between the  realities of unimagined wealth and daily challenges to survive on the most basic levels.  Housing, access to nutritious food, employment, medical care and mental health  resources for many Chicagoans remains outside of their reach and for some the dreams  of a sanctuary city have been replaced by a nightmare. 

We can do better! I am a Black woman and I love Black people, but I also love all of  God’s people. I am not equipped to discuss or decipher the responses to new arrivals,  the strife between the Black and Brown community, the economic impact of housing,  feeding and caring for immigrants seeking asylum in our city, but I am very clear when  I say NO ONE deserves to be hunted down and taken away to unspecified locations  without due process. If we are not careful and strategic in our responses to this  moment, we may fin ourselves on the cusp of revisiting a revolting and horrific time in  history. The term Sankofa, a Akan word from West Africa, reminds us that we must  learn from our past for sound guidance in our future.

But, if I am honest, the ghosts of our past seem to be gaining on the the possibilities of  our future in this nation. As Black history is being erased and rewritten, we must not  remain silent. As apartment buildings are being raided by surprise attacks, we must  respond. This is no longer a discussion of us and them, but of us - all of us. I can no  longer give the benefit of the doubt that the laws and policies that the generations  before us fought hard to imagine and establish, can protect us from the compassionless,  ruthless and terroristic measures of this administration. Every person deserves due  process and no one, especially children, should be treated as criminals while their  parents are captured and deported. Aren’t we better than this? 

I will close with the reminder that this is Chicago! The Chi! The city that inspires  songs and movies and creates cultural trends. This city is revered around the world for  its flavor, culture, food and flair. In this global microcosm, one can find representation  from nearly every country, ethnicity and culture on this planet. This is Chicago, the  style setting city, the city built upon the shoulders, back and brains of hardworking  people who are not easily daunted nor afraid to stand in the face of opposition. This is  Chicago! Let’s get it together and do better!

-Anonymous