vignettes of the early days of fascism, i
In March a piece of paper appeared, taped to a stairway bulletin. It had a photo of the detained individual at my school, the same one used in every news publication, in black-and-white, and the words "An attack on one [university member] is an attack on us all."
A week later, it had been ripped away.
Looking over the shoulder of the person sitting in front of me in class, who's on his laptop, reading an article in the New York Times about an organization that's been doxxing pro-Palestinian protestors at U.S. colleges, some of whom have later been detained. He clicks on that organization's website, and selects our university from the dropdown menu. A dozen people come up – their full names, their headshots, a "bio" including the names of the organizations they're part of. There's no way to get your name taken down from this website—the best even people who renounce their political beliefs can do is get moved to the "ex-" page of this site.
Where did these people even get this information from?
Every single student listed on that site had a Middle Eastern name. None of them people I know—my friends who are international students from that region don't get involved in politics here. But even so.
Walking through campus, past booths for student clubs, and I hear "hey, we're raising money for the students whose visas were revoked, do you want to buy a hat?"
The students of my university whose visas were revoked. Because it only takes a month to go from leading an ordinary life, pursuing your studies, to becoming who this student group raises funds for.
I donated some money. Cash of course. It wasn't enough, obviously, it's not going to make a difference. Legal fees? Safe transportation home? I didn't ask what the money was being raised for, though when I came back later they said sales have been successful.
This is where we are.
Identifying details were removed from this photo.