What Am I Going To Say?

By Meg Koenitzer

What am I going to say to you today? This day I come back to class. I can’t tell you anything, but I wear my heart on my sleeve.

I can’t tell you about the first time clay bullets snapped on my shoes. How a grown man in a mask called your teacher a slut. How I still have pepper spray in my nose.

I can’t tell you about the one I stared down. How I made him look me in the eyes.

I can’t tell you about the border patrol who barreled into me, determined to tackle my neighbor.

I can’t tell you about the terror of a shiny black truck with Texas plates and heavy tint. Accelerating at me and flipping me off.

I can’t tell you of the violence around me. The fear that sits like fog around our houses. The helicopters thrum as I read to the kids. Sirens wail as jammies go on.

What do I tell you, kids? I will tell you of the people of South Minneapolis. How strong we are. This is not the first time we have organized. This is not the first time we have leaned on each other. Our blue and green ribbons show our fresh scars. This is not the first time we have grieved as a city. This is not our first protest. This is not our first time to say his name, her name, their names.

This is not the first time we have come together.

I will tell you of the whistles of my neighbors, the donation signups, the boxes of yams passed down the line. The needs met, the checking in, the giving of pizzas. I will tell you of the hot samosas and the hot cocoa on the curb.

I will tell you of the woman who held me, as I grieved on the site our neighbor was murdered. The women who hugged me in the middle of a protest. I will tell you of the small faces, children trapped in their homes, making hearts with their hands. I will tell you of the blind man who walked next to me for miles. I will tell you of the time we carried her wheelchair through the ice. How we slid down the hill on our signs. How the brass band played as we walked through the slippery streets, gathering. How we show up to care for each other.

I will tell you how brave Minneapolis is. How we have weathered storms before and it has thickened our skins. We have been a home to the poor, the huddled masses since the beginning, and we are better for it.

And we will show up for our neighbors now.