Joy Should Not Seem So Revolutionary

I read Dooryard Books in January of this year, as my Twin Cities community was under the occupation of Operation Metro Surge. It was the way I turned off my brain each night before bed, worrying about whether I should turn my phone off when I drove my daughter’s classmate to school (if I got pulled over, would they be able to locate his mother using my phone?). My sister was too afraid to come to my book release because ICE had been at her place of work that day right before they shot Renee Good. Not two weeks later, my family bundled up in subzero temperatures to hold vigil on the streets of St. Paul for Alex Pretti. I was organizing fundraisers and listening to Minnesota Public Radio and checking Signal chats until I could feel my throat literally choking me with fear. A few days after they announced a draw-down, I saw an ICE agent with Ramsey County Sheriff officers right in front of my children’s school. I needed—I needed—a safe place to escape, just long enough to fall asleep.