Worthy of love

Momentarily safe to close her eyes, this woman sat heavily against a wall, surrounded by worn and bulging shopping bags. She was weary, and only her own dark shadow propped her up.

There are multiple protests in Portland today, May Day. May Day. We are mightily distressed. Today I’m not able to attend a protest, but I could not have found a more fitting image than this one, wherever I might have gone. 

In 1963 I graduated from high school in North Carolina, where we were expected to sing “Dixie” in honor of the Confederate South at every assembly. I had lived in New York and Hawaii by then; I crossed my arms and refused to sing. That same year James Baldwin published this statement:

The American Negro has the great advantage of having never believed the collection of myths to which white Americans cling: that their ancestors were all freedom-loving heroes, that they were born in the greatest country the world has ever seen, or that Americans are invincible in battle and wise in peace, that Americans have always dealt honorably with Mexicans and Indians and all other neighbors or inferiors, that American men are the world's most direct and virile, that American women are pure.
—James Baldwin, The Fire Next Time (1963).

Also fitting, these words from a Muscogee (Creek) woman, Poet Laureate of the USA from 2019 to 2022:

The Old Ones always gather around the baskets
Holding the little ones,
Admiring them, reminding them
Of their legacy of honor and beauty
Each one of them, all colors, all sizes,
All cultural expressions, all creations
Worthy of love.
—Joy Harjo in Poet Warrior: A Memoir (2023).