On June 29, 2018, community members in Melrose, Massachusetts came together for a vigil, responding to news about families being separated and detained at the US border. I was among the speakers at this event, which was covered in the Melrose Free Press. Attendees signed a pledge to stand with immigrants.
Here’s a transcript of my speech as it was written:
Good evening. Thank you all for showing up today! Isn’t this a beautiful place for us to gather as a community? As I understand it, people from the Massachusett tribe developed trails in this vicinity and likely used Ell Pond for ice fishing and other activities. Native people occupied present-day Melrose as far back as 10,000 years ago! Some of you may have ancestry in the United States dating back to the 1500s or earlier, but most of us settled here or were brought here more recently. We all have stories to share about our identities, and today I’m here to share mine, as well as to share my thoughts on the events that brought us all here.
I am Melrose Alderman Manisha Bewtra and I love my country, even as I learn more and more about its storied and often dark history. Since a very young age, I have felt a deep sense of patriotism for these beloved United States of America.
I am Indian-American and Hindu. I was born in Ohio and spent my formative years in Iowa. In my day-to-day experiences, there are frequent reminders of my identity as the daughter of immigrants and as a religious minority.
For example, this past Veteran’s Day, a new World War II Memorial was dedicated in Melrose. During that ceremony, when other folks were calling out the names of World War II veterans in their families, I realized that my family’s history in the United States doesn’t go that far back.
I’m not totally used to the customs associated with cemeteries and churches, where local events often take place. For example, Hindus typically cremate the deceased, and shoes are not worn in Hindu places of worship. At a recent event at Wyoming Cemetery, I wasn’t sure where or how I was supposed to stand, or if I parked my car in an appropriate place. When I’m at a church, I always feel weird keeping my shoes on when I’m sitting in a pew.
Feeling a bit different has been a norm in my life. It has been the norm for many of us!
Fear is something new I feel.
Undocumented people crossing into the US are coming to us seeking asylum, and rather than showing them compassion, we’ve put them in detention facilities and in thousands of cases have separated young children from their parents. I am worried that we are on a very slippery slope – will we tolerate worse and worse atrocities day after day?
In the chaos of the travel ban in January 2017, some US green card holders – permanent residents of the United States – were barred from going back home. My family is from India. We aren’t Muslim and India wasn’t on the list of banned countries. But: my dad is a green card holder. We are religious minorities. And we are brown-skinned.
About a week ago, I saw in the news that asylum seekers who speak Hindi and Punjabi had been detained in a federal prison in Sheridan, Oregon, isolated, at risk for abuse, and with limited access to language interpretation. My family speaks Hindi and my in-laws speak Punjabi. This was a total gut punch.
Moments later, I saw a column from The New Yorker with the headline: In America, Naturalized Citizens No Longer Have an Assumption of Permanence. WHAT? Okay now I was worrying about my mom, who is a naturalized citizen, AND my dad the green card holder.
I know many people who are much more vulnerable and at much greater risk than my family, including many who live right here in Melrose. My family and our identities haven’t been the direct targets of these policies — but many of my friends and neighbors have been the direct targets. I felt visceral fear for the safety of my own family for the first time 18 months ago, which is a marker of my relative privilege.
So where do we go from here?
My love for our diversity, our democracy, our country is something deeply ingrained within me. We have a long fight ahead of us. We WILL fight. We will develop more inclusive policies. We will share meals and clink glasses with our neighbors. We’ll knock on doors to support candidates we believe in and issues important to us. We will gather at Melrose City Hall or take the T together to Downtown Boston to march. If we have the privilege to do so, we will vote. We are Melrose and we Will stand up. We are one nation, One Community open to all.