Dancing, Singing, and Freaking Out: When Mardi Gras and ICE Come to Lawrence: Everyday Magic, Day 1,132

I got in my car anyway to go to the Mardi Gras parade in downtown Lawrence after I watched a video online of three ICE agents pushing a Lawrence man to the ground, handcuffing him, and taking him away. The air was warm for February, the sun was hidden behind a bank of clouds. The wind and the mood was up, but between and betwixt we were asking each other, "Did you hear?" Then holding hands or nodding or saying we were freaked out or expected it or nothing at all before dancing down the street.

The moveable feast of the parade -- sporting dozens of be-glittered people playing all kinds of horns, drums, bells, kazoos, and washboards -- shimmied across Massachusetts Street, snaked into Terrabonne, a Cajun restaurant, then uncoiled out again. It was a clown car of seemingly infinite cheer and hope, dancing joyfully or walking with a rhythmic purpose, overflowing with colorful masks and purple and green streamers as well as hard-won spirit and sass.

Meanwhile on this day ICE was raiding one of our local Mexican restaurants, stopping a U.S. citizen at an elementary school because that citizen was a person of color, and threatening a woman taking a video of them at a gas station. By day's end, ICE arrested five people and ICE is still trolling the streets for who-knows-how-long. We don't know if this is the start of something even worse, a blip in the Matrix, or a new cycle of unpredictable bouts of terror.

I was sad and afraid but also compelled to stay with this community as we went in and out of Love Records, walked around the corner, then packed ourselves in the lobby of the library before the finale at Free State Brewery. It's hard to know what to do and how to be when the unjust and unpredictable dangers of our country lands anywhere, but especially when it's close at home. Meanwhile on this day many people got would get even more familiar with Sanctuary Lawrence, Somos Lawrence, and other resources.

There is and will be so much to learn about, protect, and do. But for now, we met each other's eyes and acknowledged the joy and fear of the moment and the need to keep moving and keep the music flowing.

As we approached Free State Brewery, somehow filling a finite space with infinite soul, so much goodness seemed possible, hopefully inevitable.