What started as a protest of one at about 8 p.m. on Feb. 12 drew more than 60 picketers to the office of the U.S. Postal Service in Port Townsend by noon on Monday, Feb. 13.
Libby Palmer was home …
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What started as a protest of one at about 8 p.m. on Feb. 12 drew more than 60 picketers to the office of the U.S. Postal Service in Port Townsend by noon on Monday, Feb. 13.
Libby Palmer was home alone on a Sunday night, researching as much information as she could find online about recent U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) raids.
“I was trying to find out what I could about who was getting detained,” Palmer said. “Are they mothers? How many of them have families? But I couldn’t get any information.”
Palmer’s intent to stage a solitary protest blossomed into a virtual word-of-mouth campaign when she recalled how many signs she had that lent themselves to such a cause.
Those picketers who took the time to stand outside Port Townsend’s only federal building, with signs from Palmer and their own creations in hand, included Alisha Douglas, who made signs for herself and her sons, 3-year-old Beck and 11-year-old Van.
“With the state of the country right now, I want my children to know that I stood up for what was right, instead of just talking smack on Facebook,” Douglas said. “I’ve got Native American and Mexican heritage, but even the white side of my family was immigrants.”
Douglas is particularly heartbroken over the plight of families separated by deportation, and even went so far as to say, “Separating families is one of the worst crimes you can commit.”
Gage Choat just happened to be picking up his mail when he encountered the protest, but he expressed support for its aims. He struck up a conversation with Jefferson County Commissioner Kate Dean, who happened to be passing by, and protester Linda Abbott-Roe.
“Everyone has a role they can play and ways they can engage the problem, whether you’re a county resident or a government official,” Dean said.
“I don’t know anyone who’s personally got anything at stake, but [the ICE raids] are simply un-American,” Abbott-Roe said. “We have to stay vigilant and resist. If something sounds crazy, then it probably is.”
Like Abbott-Roe, Judy D’Amore faces no risk of deportation, but she worries about friends whose religions or ethnicities might make them more incentivized targets. One of those friends is Liseth Marroquin, a legal resident from Guatemala who has already experienced a touch of scorn, and a great deal of support, from the community.
“I was parking my car when these people in a red car started shouting at me,” Marroquin said. “I couldn’t make out their words, but I could see the expressions on their faces. I was shocked, but then this lady, whom I wish I could meet again, came up to me and hugged me, saying, ‘I’m so sorry.’ I felt so embraced by the town.”
“It’s so important that those of us who are relatively privileged understand what people like Liseth are going through,” D’Amore said. “We need to acknowledge what the most vulnerable among us are going through.”
“My goal was to remind the community that all of us, but especially a subset of us, are living in fear and uncertainty,” Palmer said. “We are all human beings, not just numbers to detain or deport.”