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I haven't written for the blog since January. (Prof. Walsh's email about his perfectionism/procrastination loop resonated with me deeply.) Without writing except in my journal, I've felt unmoored these past months. 

Working as a clinical student in immigration defense right now in LA feels like putting band aids on bullet wounds. Forcing my client to divulge her life's most traumatic and shameful events to me week after week as I build her case, knowing the likely negative outcome, feels like a betrayal---of her, of myself, of any sense of human decency. 

My clinic partner, a white Evangelical Christian from Fresno whose husband is a secret service agent, keeps saying our client "doesn't deserve this." I don't think anyone deserves this. I don't understand how she can't see the contradiction of arguing a case against the Department of Homeland Security when her husband's boss is Kristi Noem herself. (My partner even brought a secret service branded notebook to our first hearing and joked that maybe the judge would side with us because it would show we "believe in the rule of law.")

Each day that passes carries with it a monumental sense of loss. Immigrant youth promised deferred action while waiting years, even decades, for a green card, are now subject to deportation. School districts are shirking responsibility (to put it generously) for the well-being of their queer and trans youth in the wake of Mahmoud v. Taylor. Students for Justice in Palestine was banned from UCLA's campus, while the school pays a billion dollar settlement to Zionists. It feels disrespectful that the sun keeps shining loudly and brightly every day as workers are snatched off the street by ICE and the rhetoric of ethnic cleansing abounds.

As heavy as things are, the worst thing I could see myself becoming is cynical. Nothing feels like enough, but it's heartening to see community members keeping each other safe by conducting ICE-tracking patrols, operating tip reporting hotlines, and distributing groceries to families who would put themselves at risk of deportation just by walking outside in the daylight. It's inspiring to see parents speak out at school board meetings against policies that harm LGBTQ+ youth, even though the people in power in those districts are dangerously bigoted. Every day I am inspired by the courage of those around me and those who came before me.

I don't know how to end this blog post. To come to the end of a piece of writing usually means some stereotype has been subverted, a theme turned on its head, anything to leave the reader thinking about the world with a new, daring perspective. I regret that I have none of that to offer. All I can say is that here in Los Angeles, the sun is still shining as brightly as it did in July, and even in January, giving the illusion that no time has passed at all. 

Teeth and love, as always,

Anika

P.S. - Songs I have been loving lately:

1. "The First Taste" - Fiona Apple

2. "True Believer" by Hailey Williams

2. the entire Cupid Deluxe album by Blood Orange, but if I had to pick a couple songs - "You're Not Good Enough" and "It Is What It Is"

3. "Tell Me" by Groove Theory

4. "Happy" by Ashanti