What does solidarity mean at the border?
It’s not about electoral politics—not when both major parties embrace the policies that are oppressing people.
(Photo: grandriver / iStock / Getty)
In a makeshift camp along the border wall in Arizona, humanitarian aid volunteers greet weary travelers as they wander in. They point to the milk crates full of granola bars and canned Vienna sausages and gesture, Take, eat, it’s free. There are some tents scattered around, and small fires around which people wrapped in blankets huddle on this cold January day.
Two volunteers, L and M, are making ramen in enormous pots on an old two-burner Coleman stove. A line of people waits, paper bowls and plastic spoons in hand. The water comes to a boil in the first pot, and one of the women dumps in 20 or 30 packets of ramen. Once it’s ready, the volunteers serve those in line while the other pot comes to a boil.
At some point, another volunteer comes over, taps L on the shoulder, and says she is needed in the first-aid area. L, a trained wilderness first responder, steps away. I take her place. A while later, M is also called away for another urgent task. I manage the two pots of ramen and the endless line of hungry people by myself until G comes up and says she needs me to join her to “drive the wall.”
