Columbine. Aurora. Now, Milwaukee.
As a Sikh community near Milwaukee came together for prayers and community yesterday, a gunman brutally murdered 6, wounded 4, and shocked a nation in what officials are calling an act of domestic terrorism. Again, in our backyards, another mass shooting has occurred — and this time while a religious community gathered to practice their faith.
For me, this mass shooting is not just about how to keep guns out of the hands of a murderous few. As a Sikh American, it's also about my community's struggle to live as free and proud Americans.
The only thing that feels right in a moment like this is to go to Wisconsin to be with my fellow Sikhs, friends, and family, to mourn with them, and to stand in solidarity with this community in unimaginable pain.
When I go in the coming days, I will bring prayers of healing, hope, and solidarity from people like you.
Submit your own message or prayer for hope and healing, and anything else you want the community to know, by clicking the link below. I'll bring all the notes and make sure the community leaders in Milwaukee get them.
My grandfather sailed by steamship from Punjab, India and settled in California one hundred years ago. Donning a turban and long beard, he tamed the hard floor of the Central Valley on a John Deere tractor in the early 1900s.
Sikh pioneers like my grandfather could not own land or become citizens due to the color of their skin, but they stayed and farmed, weathering race riots and decades of second class treatment, until the law permitted their children and grandchildren to become citizens.
Like many Sikhs, I grew up with deep roots in America and also fell in love with the heart of the Sikh faith, devotion to one God, who requires us to uphold equality between women and men and all peoples, and perform seva, or sacred service. We express our devotion to God, Waheguru, in a house of worship called a gurdwara, where we recite and sing the poetry of the scared scriptures. In the 17th century, the tenth teacher gave Sikhs five articles to represent our faith, including kesh -- long, uncut hair which most men and some women wrap in a cloth turban.
Today, roughly 500,000 Americans are Sikh, many donning turbans. Tragically, the turban meant to represent a commitment to service and justice has since marked Sikh Americans as targets for hate violence. I was old enough to remember racial slurs and shattered windows after the Iran hostage crisis, the first Gulf War, and the Oklahoma City bombing. In the hours and days after 9/11, hate violence swept the country. And on September 15, 2001, a Sikh man was gunned down in front of his gas station in Mesa, Arizona. Aside from a few quick clips on the local news, the coverage was sparse.
But this time, something new is happening. Social media were flooded with messages of support and solidarity for Sikh Americans. They knew that the Sikh community gathered to pray on a Sunday morning, just like in millions of churches around the country. They knew that the terrible loss of life so recently after the shootings in Aurora shocks the conscience and violates our deepest values. And they know that this is not just a Sikh tragedy but an American tragedy.
Please join me in showing solidarity with the Sikh community in Milwaukee — and send in your note of hope, healing, and solidarity.
Read more about my community's reaction to the tragedy in a piece I did for CNN, published this morning.Click here to read the piece.
Stay tuned for more from Groundswell as we work to help this community and our broader nation heal, learn, and listen in the aftermath of this unspeakable tragedy.
Valarie
Valarie Kaur
Director, Groundswell
Director, Groundswell
Horrific shooting in Wisconsin: Stand w/ Sikh families & victims | The Groundswell Movement
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.