Si, Se Puede!

This is why I love America. For all of our pretentious pride, our sweet missile defense system, and our ignorance about the rest of the world, we’re pretty good when it comes to protest. In France, they turn water hoses and teargas on you. But in America, you can eclipse the Music City Marathon.

Tonight, I was part of a rally. I’ve never been a part of one. I was at the steps of War Memorial Plaza when thousands of immigrants marched peacefully to say, “We have a part in this country, too. Please listen to us, because we affect so much.” And it was awesome.

In America, with a few exceptions, you are allowed to express dissent. The voice of the minority can be heard, even if it is not followed. But, you at least get a chance. And tonight, in sleepy Nashville, well over 10,000 immigrants and immigrant-rights supporters got a chance to express their feelings and beliefs.

My last post generated more comments than I’ve gotten in months. Clearly, the immigration issue is a hot button topic and will continue to be for months. But believe me, when you get on the ground and hear the stories and meet the people, a holy sympathy engulfs you so clearly, that to ignore it is sin.

As I stood at the steps, yelling with the crowd, “Si, se puede!” I looked up and saw two priests at the top of the stairs. Clad in black shirts and pants with collars and stoles, they stood there with open arms, as if to say on behalf of the Almighty: “You are welcome here.” And as I stood amidst the personification of diversity, I felt like a saw a glimpse of the diversity that will be heaven. If you think for a minute that all those people behind the pearly gates are white, reconsider your position because you may just be in the minority.

Nashville’s march didn’t equal Los Angeles or Chicago, but it was a huge step for this town where you can still find a confederate flag bumper sticker every now and then. I have never felt so proud to be an American, not because I have rights these people only dream about, but because I am a citizen of a country that allows anyone to express their dissent – even the 18 people who were against the march. That’s right: a dozen and a half people letting everyone know that all ‘illegals’ should go home. (I’ve heard that these 18 didn’t apply for a permit – which is required to protest on state property – thereby making them ‘illegal.’)

I will never, as long as I live, forget the image of the throngs of people marching from the coliseum to the plaza, united with one voice, letting all who will dare to listen that an injustice is being done. As I stood atop the 27th floor of a downtown building, I could hear the one united voice shouting, “Si, se puede!” (“Yes, we can!”) Yes, we can – all of us, together, fighting for justice of all of us.