Time to reread ‘The Hiding Place’
- Melissa Herrera: Not Waiting for Friday
- May 18, 2025
- 1105
I think the last thread in my brain tore when I heard a sheriff in a county to my north called undocumented people locusts. And something in my head clicked.
Despite pleas to the contrary, I’m relegating myself to the fact a majority of people don’t want others here. If they did, they wouldn’t be fine with calling them animals — or in this case insects.
I listened to people say over and over that they only want the criminals out. Instead, we see babies being ripped from the arms of their mothers and regular folks going to jobs being hunted down on their front lawn — tackled, drug away, tied up, maybe put on a plane to Libya of all places. Auschwitz was not in Germany, lest we forget. The terror of it all has rippled the normalcy of everyday life for peaceful people who are installing your roofs and serving you tacos de birria.
For me, the terror involves the acceptance of it as normal.
None of the things that were said are coming true, only the opposite. And the worst part is we are pretending it’s normal. Nothing about dragging an infant away from its mother is normal — full stop.
Last Sunday was Mother’s Day, and I am thankful my own babies grew up to be progressive, thoughtful adults — the kind who would help people who need a place to hide. I would hope they (and I) are the Corrie Ten Booms of our generation. Thinking a rereading of “The Hiding Place” is in order.
George made me a breakfast on Mother’s Day morning of scrambled eggs with tomatoes and jalapeños. He’s an expert fryer of potatoes, and they melted on my tongue. His strong, warm hands held my face as he kissed me good morning.
After breakfast we went to see the movie “Sinners” by Ryan Coogler. I called it the “Sinners Sunday Matinee” without the guilt. I usually choose a long drive, but the cinema was calling me. I’d been hearing about this movie breaking records for weeks. I was overcome in the middle of it and highly recommend.
The rest of the day was a warm haze of drinks on the porch, grandkids and ice cream — all things that made me happy.
But just beyond the edge of this happiness lie things I cannot ignore, even if I want to — mothers separated from children, the disintegration of norms and the replacement of them with a forced sense that all is well, that all is normal. Don’t look at the person behind the curtain.
Today, I send love to all the moms who are just holding it all together, especially the ones doing it in the face of cruel, impending danger.
I see you.
And as Sharon McMahon (America’s government teacher) says, “Because authoritarianism doesn’t start with laws; it starts when people stop paying attention. Before they change the laws, they change what people accept.”
Melissa Herrera is a reflective writer who captures the beauty and sorrow of change. With a career spanning 14 years as an opinion columnist and the publication of two books, she resides in Stark County with her husband and four cats. She writes to preserve memories. You can reach her at junkbabe68@gmail.com.