HOW TO HELP MINNESOTA
Plus, a personal story from me. Book Therapy will resume next Friday.
Hi Friends,
Out of solidarity with today’s National Shutdown, I’m not conducting Book Therapy this weekend. Instead, I’d like to tell you how ICE's actions affect my family and me, and how you can help Minnesota.
My husband is a private person, so I don’t mention him much here or on social media. However, I feel that it’s important for people to understand where I come from when I write about the actions of the current administration and ICE. My husband is Hispanic. His parents and siblings immigrated to the United States from El Salvador in the 1960s. My late mother-in-law came to this country with the help of a church mission, had to attend nursing school a second time because her degree wasn’t recognized here, and left her three young children for a year to settle in. My late father-in-law was an accountant in El Salvador. His degree wasn’t honored here, so he became a welder. When I met my husband, his dad was retired, and his mom was still working double shifts as a nurse. She’d use her own money to pay for Christmas parties so her colleagues could have fun. She also sold Avon, and when my husband was a kid, she’d make him go door-to-door with her. That could never happen today.
In El Salvador, my father-in-law’s family name is well known among political figures. My husband’s cousin was the country's VP years ago, and we were invited to the El Salvadoran consulate in New York City to meet him. My husband’s great-grandfather founded the university in San Salvador—there is even a statue of him there. His cousins own a coffee bean farm and distribute the finished product to Whole Foods. I think you get the picture: the family was and is respected in El Salvador. That doesn’t mean they were or are respected here.
Earlier this week, I finally broke down in tears because I was reading such hateful comments under social media posts from NJ.com and my town at the Jersey Shore. To know that people would automatically hate my spouse and children because they are Hispanic is something I simply can’t wrap my head around. Every time I see a comment from a white person angry because they think Latinos do not belong in this country, I think, “Is that what they think of my family?” I can’t say it’s shocking. I saw how some people treated my mother-in-law, who had dark brown skin and a thick accent. She’d still have saved their lives if needed.
When I first met my then-future in-laws, I didn’t give a second thought to the fact that I was in an entirely different culture because they immediately treated me like family. My mother-in-law (we called her “Mommy” and called my father-in-law “Poppy”) was so comfortable with me that she started speaking Spanish to me. I eventually understood most of what she said. Today, my daughter is in Honors Spanish and has passed the bilingual literacy test. She is also a member of the Spanish Honor Society. Both of my kids are proud to be of El Salvadoran descent.
We have seen the horrors of ICE in Minneapolis with the murders of Renee Good and Alex Pretti. We have seen the Latino community terrorized by an administration that, let’s face it, is full of white supremacists. We cannot lose sight of the innocent people who have essentially been kidnapped and are in detention centers, and whose rights to due process have been violated. None of this is okay, and if you think it is, I promise we have nothing in common.
This country was built on the backs of immigrants, and immigrants still play an integral role in the economy. Something that has stuck with me since 9/11 is the many undocumented workers who perished. The same people who bus your tables, clean your offices, mow your lawns, build your houses, watch children, and care for you in hospitals are the ones this administration, and a whole lot of people in this country, seem to hate. It must stop.
HERE ARE WAYS YOU CAN HELP MINNESOTA:
Publishing for Minnesota has over 500 items/services you can bid on. There are AMAs with agents, query reviews, manuscript reviews, and more. The auction is live until MIDNIGHT. Check it out here.
Shelf Awareness has reported on how bookstores in Minnesota are helping their communities. Show them some love by ordering books from their stores. You can find the article here.
The Minnesota Freedom Fund is a good place to put your money. You can learn about them here.
Minneapolis/St. Paul Magazine has a great resource here.
I can’t possibly keep track of all the ways to help, so if you have any links to share, please drop them in the comments.
If you are hateful in the comments, you will get blocked.
Thank you for reading this.
—Kathleen


Thank you, thank you, from here on the front lines in south Minneapolis, where the resistance is as strong as the terror. Here's something from me:
A Day in the Life of an Ordinary Minneapolitan Under Occupation.
-6 degrees, same as it's been for weeks. Bundle up, put on your whistle, put phone in pocket. Walk as far as you can, scanning for ICE. Once home, call twenty senators: "I live in south Minneapolis, where we’re under invasion by our own government. I don't want this to happen to anyone else anywhere else in this country but it can and it will unless you defund ICE." Sign off. Feel energized because you took action, and action creates hope.
Drive to a distribution site while scanning for ICE. Help unload delivery truck, pack boxes for Minneapolitans who don't have enough to eat, who don't have basic supplies, who are terrified to leave their homes no matter their "status." Think how wrong it is that so few in this country hoard most of the money. Envision, as you constantly do, a world in which we all took care of each other instead of competed against each other. Then think: hey, Minneapolitans are taking care of each other. Load up your car, distribute to the needy. Go home. Feel energized because you took action and action creates hope.
Watch a video someone sent you in which they're cutting the nurse's clothes off, maybe to try CPR (why? it's clear he's gone) but no, no, no, oh God no, they're counting the bullet holes. Like they’re hunters and he’s a deer. This undoes you. But no, you can't be undone. You have to stay strong and resist. Check in with neighbors to say you're here for them. They respond with "Same." Their caring gives you energy and energy helps you act and action creates hope and hope is what will keep us going.
Thank you, Kathleen...for sharing, for your vulnerability and for being a damn good human being.