As anyone who has been around this blog can attest, I am quite passionate about the things that matter to me. Most of those things only matter to a small number of other people on the planet (like the proper use of colons or my newest favorite album or book), but I am not bother by the small number of other people who share my passions.
And then I have this entire other set of passions that I don’t talk about with everyone as much.
But today, I participated in my first ever chanting-on-the-street-corner rally with a group that I have supported since I finally realized they existed (because I’m occasionally quite obtuse), so I decided this is a great time to share.
You might have heard about something called the DREAM Act and a group of nebulous entities who have been called lots of things, from aliens to illegals to undocumented (and numerous other derogatory names. I call them my friends. Or my students. Or the future.
And while I’ll probably post more about their plight, history, desires, and options in the future, this post isn’t about that. This post is about how I finally learned from my friends the reason for these kinds of rallies.