I recently watched the movie The Hate U Give, and I highly recommend it if you haven’t seen it already. The movie stars a young Black woman, Starr, who witnesses her childhood friend being shot by a police officer. As she tries to balance two worlds — one being the mostly Black neighborhood she lives in and the other being the predominantly white school she attends — she feels immense pressure to pick a side. Ultimately, she must find her own voice and stand up for what is right.
I don’t think I have ever been so moved by any movie I have ever watched; it’s what drew me to write this article and to finally speak out about something that I have been trying to brush-off, but the reality is that I can’t. I could never compare myself to what Starr went through in this movie, but I can relate to feeling scared in a place that I should feel safe in — a place that I should feel confident calling home.
As a kid, ethnicity was never something I really thought about, especially being someone who went to schools with high diversity rates. Coming to a predominantly white college, I became very aware of the color of my skin; in fact, I almost felt insecure because of it. I feared that people would form preconceived notions about me. Fortunately, it didn’t last long; I realized that I’m way more than what I look like, and I found people who helped me believe that, too.
Although I had my reservations, I grew to love my school and the people in it. I finally found a place I could call home. I could walk around late at night, and I felt comfortable knowing that I was safe and that other students were doing the same thing. To me, JMU is such a close-knit community, and I have made amazing friends who I know will always have my back. But sometimes, that isn’t enough to feel safe.
If you’ve been keeping up with the news, then you’ve seen the absolute terror that is the world and the lives that have been lost or taken. To be frank, I have been trying to steer myself away from the news because it serves as a constant reminder that I, too, have a reason to be afraid to go out by myself. After all, at this point, who knows what could happen?
Recently, there have been ICE sightings near JMU and reports of ICE agents staying at nearby hotels that are way too close for comfort, and even saying “comfort” is a complete understatement. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared out of my mind. I constantly feel unsafe in this environment that I call home. Whenever I see law enforcement walking around campus, I feel my stomach sink. Even though I know they’re here to protect students, I still worry.
As a chronically anxious person, this has made my regular day-to-day anxieties hit a new high. I have kept these feelings locked up in fear of making the people I care about uncomfortable, not because of what I’m saying, but because maybe they won’t know what to say.
It wasn’t until watching The Hate U Give that I realized that we as a society shouldn’t be waiting for a situation so gruesome and heartbreaking like the ICE raids, or in the case of the movie, gun violence, to get to a point where we deem it time to speak up and out about a situation that we think doesn’t directly affect us. It affects everyone in one way or another. Just because it isn’t you or your family doesn’t mean it’s not someone you know; it could be your friends, your neighbors, your coworkers, or even the person who’s delivering your food.
It brings me just the slightest bit of hope to see my community coming together to speak out about ICE, such as the anti-ICE protest that took place just the other week. For those like me who fear speaking out publicly, it means a lot to see allies protesting on our part and being just as upset as we are.
This isn’t an “out of sight, out of mind” situation because it’s happening all around us. For a student to feel unsafe on her own campus — a place she should feel comfortable in — is absolutely disheartening. At this point, I can’t stay silent anymore. It’s my duty, not only as a Latina, but as a daughter, student, friend, sister, niece, and citizen to speak for myself and for those who can’t. No one should feel unsafe in their own home, and no one is illegal on stolen land.