By: LaDon Love
Afro
https://afro.com/

In this season of Black History Month, it is not uncommon to assess where we have been as a people and where we are going. It is typical during this time to mark progress while also outlining the work that remains. This is Sankofa.
Sankofa is the practice of looking back to understand where we have been, with the intention of gaining insight for the future. The premise is we cannot move with purpose and intention without understanding where we have been. Our past can illuminate not only our future, but the strategies we utilize in the present and future.
In the spirit of Sankofa, to understand the current social and political realities, we must understand where we have been as a nation and as a people. For these reasons, I cannot look away in the face of rising attacks on persons suspected of being undocumented. While influencers may urge Black communities to “sit this one out,” in the context of advancing the cause of freedom and justice this is an appeal we cannot accept.
To understand why, you must understand who we are as a people. I’ll elaborate using my own story and experience.
I am an organizer and leader of the grassroots organization SPACEs In Action. I am a sister, cousin, aunt, mother and granddaughter. The daughter of Caribbean immigrants (on my father’s side), and enslaved people (on my mother’s side), I understand that you cannot look at a person and immediately discern who they are or where they are from. But it shouldn’t matter where a person is from; every human being deserves dignity and respect. In the absence of this, no one is safe. History reveals as much.
I am clear that history is not abstract. It is connected to each of us in ways more resonant than we may appreciate. It lives in our bodies (epigenetically), in our families (via oral histories), and in our streets (through individual and collective memory). It shapes policy and often guides our practices.
In the practice of Sankofa, I understand current events by being deeply grounded in history. You cannot speak about Immigration Customs and Enforcement (ICE) without the 14th Amendment immediately coming to mind.
The 14th Amendment was ratified after slavery to stop state violence. It was a direct response to the Black Codes, or laws that criminalized freedom and forced newly freed people back into labor. The 14th Amendment was intended to end the snatching of Black people from loved ones, and to prohibit states from seizing individuals and families without due process. It was designed to prevent fear from becoming policy. Resources such as DefendThe14th.org today share this history and educate on its importance.
The 14th Amendment was a remedy to Black Codes, which – coupled with the Fugitive Slave Act of 1850 – incentivized White people to see Black people as property to be subdued and managed.
When I think about that era, of Black people relentlessly asserting their humanity and right to live free, I sympathize with undocumented men and women, children and youth. I don’t see them as foreign but rather in the same light that I see my Caribbean loved ones.
I cannot view the actions of ICE separate from the context of Black Codes or the Fugitive Slave Act. When I hear of masked men in unmarked cars snatching our neighbors from street corners, I imagine the position of my ancestors—they would not coddle dehumanization regardless of the recipient.
Moreover, these practices and policies of mass deportations, mass firings and mass hate will not move the nation forward. They are a costly distraction from the true work of governing for and by the people. Instead of funding ICE, our government should fund lifeline services that give children and families a true shot at thriving, not just surviving.
A thriving community looks like a safe one. It looks like fully funded child care, healthcare, affordable housing and access to nutritious food. It looks like a quality education, protection on the job and neighborhoods free from pollution. Thriving communities look like spaces where no one fears walking down the street, or dropping their children at child care centers or schools.
While some may be tempted to say, this is not my fight, I offer the words of Martin Luther King Jr.: “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” Today and every day, we should choose people over punishment; communities over cages; and investment over intimidation.
The opinions expressed in this commentary are those of the writer and not necessarily those of the AFRO.
