What Doesn’t Make It To Social Media

If you only knew the Twin Cities through a 15-second Reel, you’d think we were a constant hellscape. You’d see the pepper spray, the shouting matches in parking lots, and the tactical gear. You’d think the air here is made of nothing but tension.

In many ways social media is telling the truth and, in others, it’s missing the mark. The videos are true and those moments exist. I mean, what do you think will happen when you force a bunch of Feds on a city that didn’t ask for it? We may be a bunch of liberals but we’re still Americans. “Don’t tread on me” is part of our collective ethos, woven into each and every one of us as Americans.

But most people in the Twin Cities are not out protesting. The untold story is so much deeper.

It’s in the love and anxiety of a mother whose children now carry passports in their backpacks on the way to school—just in case.

It’s in the tears of a person who pulls me close when I tell them, “Estamos pensando en ustedes.”

It’s in the classrooms that sit half empty and the teachers, who clearly weren’t doing enough, now organizing grocery runs for families unwilling to risk leaving their homes.

It’s in the use of anonymous names and encrypted chats because of the fear for our safety and the safety of our neighbors.

It’s in my own tears driving to work, praying that this will all end soon; in the knot in my stomach, knowing that life carries on regardless of the chaos – a normal workday as if everything is the same as it has always been.

It is the sick feeling that arises when you leave the grocery store only to find ICE agents taking a man who just stepped off the bus. I don’t feel safer. I find myself watching over my shoulder – for myself and for my neighbors.

There is also the continuation of life as usual. The unsettling juxtaposition of watching someone swept into a car by masked men and then flipping to my budget app to remember how much I just spent on bread.

It’s the exhausting balance of sadness and productivity, fear and hope. It’s the life we are actually living in the Twin Cities—the parts that aren’t loud enough for an algorithm, but are heavy enough to weigh us down on a daily basis.