Let's say he signs an executive order today to reverse his practice of separating families. Do you go back to feeling okay with who we are as a nation? I don't. Here's why.
In 1997 my family was split apart by abuse, the hidden kind, that which shows no bruises or scars on the skin. It's the emotional attack on the tender hearts of my children, after years of living with the abuse myself. Back then, my adolescent son was pursued by his father for some minor issue and I stepped between them. Police were called, he eventually was arrested and the locks were changed on my house by a neighbor.
During the ensuing months with divorce proceedings and a criminal case looming, I lived in fear that this man would take my children from me. I remember making light of my fears pretending that we were going to have a slumber party simply because, if I fell asleep touching them, I'd know if their father would attempt to take them from me.
By now, we can hardly escape the images, the audio and the expert opinions on what damage is being done to the children separated from their parents at the border. They are damaged, no matter if the order is signed today or a bill is passed tomorrow. These children and their parents have already suffered the abuse.
Here is an example of what can happen with these children and their parents if the right supports are in place. The parents can become educated about what causes children to scream out in the night and how to care for them. They can find counseling that will guide them toward parenting the children with love and compassion. And they can build a community of others to grow and mature as adults.
And the children? They can grow up to be a teacher, therapist or forensic psychologist, with deeply held convictions. They can become people who spot the less fortunate and do something about it. They can become all the best parts of our society.
And still, the cards are stacked against them. They will always harbor deep-seated terror at the thought of being ripped from a mother's arms, the idea that there will never be a safe haven for them even if the stars align and they get what they need to grow with a loving community. There are so many variables involved now.
But one thing is true; the velvet feel of my child's forehead under my fingers, the sting of breast milk to feed my child, the tinny smell of my child's sweat, are images I carry of the women at the border, powerless and voiceless in the face of a despicable order made by a man with no morals and a Congress with no backbone.