Pictures from the journey.
Guns, pandemic, insurrection. This is our world.
I started reading Flynn Berry’s new novel yesterday, set in Northern Ireland in the time after The Troubles…and then, I heard the news that a Black motorist was shot and killed in suburban Minneapolis. These are our Troubles. They are not new. They are not unique.
The Derek Chauvin trial is underway in Minneapolis. I won’t kid myself and say Minnesota has changed since back in the days of Paul Wellstone. The Prairie Home northern bastion of liberal thought and fairness never existed for all.
In the 80’s I lived in South Minneapolis. We drove a little diesel VW Golf and put tinted anti-glare paper on the side windows; I hung a dream catcher on the rear view mirror. I got stopped by a cop one time. He gave me a ticket for a moving violation and said we had to take the film off the windows because we needed to be visible. I am still alive. I am a white female. Now read the article about Daunte Wright and say his name:
Police fatally shoot man, 20, in suburban Minneapolis, sparking protests
By Jared Goyette and Andrea Salcedo
When will we learn? My cities (St Paul and Minneapolis) are, literally, on fire.
“No justice, no peace.” We demand justice for the murder of George Floyd.
Curfews are in place. Peaceful protests continue. We walked through our neighborhood this afternoon. A very different place. The world has seen the images. Cities around the country are joining in protest.
Here is my home community: