I recently returned from a short trip to join the water protectors at Standing Rock, North Dakota. Traveling there I was afraid of arrest and battery, of broken bones and black eyes, of not being able to return home safely to my husband and child. I wrote my husband's number on my arm in case I was too rattled or hurt after being arrested to remember it. And while I have returned home with no damage done to my body, my mind is forever changed by what I saw there.
There is a battle going on in North Dakota, but it isn't between two militarized forces. It is between love and hate, hope and fear, hospitality and hostility.