Category: Freedom

Activism, Citizenship, Community, Democracy, Equal Rights, Faith, Freedom, Immigration, Marginalized, Neighbors, Public Policy, Respect, Seeing Others, Social Justice, Spirituality, Thoughts From the Porch

What Happens on July 5th?

gregoryjoel

The news has shown stories on ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) raids across the country ever since January 20th of last year when mass deportations, allegedly of “the worst of the worst”, began in earnest. The reality is that only three percent of the over 600,00 people deported had violent felony convictions and approximately seventy-three percent had no criminal record whatsoever, but hey, that’s a story for some other time.

I’ve watched the often cruel, inhumane, and illegal ways average immigrants are targeted and arrested simply for going to work or dropping their kids off at school, paying taxes, and contributing to their respective communities. I watched in horror, as did we all, the murder of American citizens at the hands of mercenary, masked ICE agents in Minnesota. I’ve known that similar raids are carried out in my hometown of Fort Worth, Texas but such things are not newsworthy in the “most Republican city in the state”. Therefore, they’ve occurred quietly, in the dark, away from the public eye.

Last Saturday morning, the news became real for me. I stopped at the local QuickTrip for gas, a bag of ice, and my morning sausage biscuit. It was early Saturday morning and quiet for the normally busy OT station. There was a SUV with Oklahoma tags parked all by itself on the far end of the lot. It didn’t appear to be occupied, but it hit me as strange to be sitting out there all by itself. I went in, took care of my business, went back to my truck, and saw the SUV charge across the parking lot and rear-end what looked to be someone’s work truck with a loud crash. In front was another SUV that blocked the driveway. The collision caused damage to both SUVs and the truck. Four other SUVs surrounded the scene.   Lights came on – they’d been off prior to the collision giving no indication it was law enforcement – from each of the SUVs and eight to twelve ICE agents clad in combat gear with guns drawn swarming the vehicle. A Fort Worth police car had pulled up behind the ICE agents to observe the raid.

One agent busted through the driver’s side window, and they pulled a middle-aged Hispanic man from the driver’s seat and threw him to the ground. He offered no resistance to the agents that immediately handcuffed him and rushed him off to one of the other SUVs. Then the passenger, a younger Hispanic man – also handcuffed – had several ICE agents surrounding him, patting him down, and escorting him to another waiting vehicle. The agents began to mill about looking like big heroes, congratulating each other with big smiles, and patting each other on the back. By then, two other FWPD vehicles had pulled up. The two Fort Worth police officers stood there laughing and watching the whole affair.

It took me a moment to find my phone and start videoing the scene. Unfortunately, videography is one of my challenges and it wasn’t clear. I tried to take several stills as well, showing the faces of the FWPD officers involved and two or three of the unmasked ICE agents. I may not have their names – not that they would give them to me since masked thugs prefer anonymity – but I’m damn sure going to post the few faces I did see. I’m not the best photographer, especially with the trembling hands of an adrenaline rush, but by God I’m going to let them know that someone sees them and cast some light on their dark activity.

I try to treat everyone with common courtesy, dignity, and respect regardless of our differences. That’s become increasingly difficult with MAGA acolytes and the constant threats to the democracy and freedom I’ve been blessed to enjoy. Seeing this Gestapo-like behavior, over a decade’s worth of assaults on “the other”, assaults on our democracy and the rule of law, and the constant lies of a hateful, felonious narcissistic pedophile became a deluge that breached the dam of any self-control I’ve held onto. I was pissed

I didn’t hesitate to let them know I was filming their chickens*** bullying. The “F” word flowed freely as did “Nazi mother****ers “. I let the FWPD officers know they were no better as they stood there laughing. It wasn’t my best moment, but I was so angry to see their pompous, self-righteous BS that I simply had to call it as I see it.

I don’t know anything about the guys they arrested. They could be some of “the worst of the worst”, but it’ s far more likely they were like the overwhelming majority of detainees and were simply off to another day of work to provide for their families, contributing to our community, and paying taxes like everyone else. It’s been my privilege to work with many immigrants over the years, with and without documentation, and I’ve never met any finer coworkers or friends. They possess the very values of God (no matter what name they use), family, and work we profess to want from all our neighbors regardless of status.

The constant chaos we see and hear on the news each day tends to push immigration aside. Please don’t let it. We celebrated 250 years since the signing of the Declaration of Independence yesterday, a document signed by a bunch of immigrants to this country, in response to attacks on “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness”. Our treatment of immigrants, of the other, is a premonition of how we will all be treated if we remain silent in the face of injustice…

Activism, Citizenship, Community, Down On the Farm, Equal Rights, Events, Food Justice, Freedom, Hope, Juneteenth, Neighbors, Opal's Farm, Role Models, Service to Others, Social Justice, Summer, Thoughts From the Porch, Uncategorized, Unity Unlimited, Inc., Urban Farming, What Can I Do

Just Can’t Wait

gregoryjoel

It’s an overcast Sunday morning here in North Texas. Rain is in the forecast once again and with a little luck it will continue Monday. Another “rain day” would be welcome during this busy time of year. Another peaceful morning drinking coffee and getting some well-deserved rest and some writing time would be amazing even though this is one of the busiest weeks of the year.

Juneteenth is this Friday and Ms. Opal’s Walk for Freedom is at nine o’clock at Will Rogers Coliseum. Opal’s Farm will be there for the celebration with lots of great veggies. I’ve been told that, God willing, Ms. Opal will be there to ride in the comfort of air conditioning to lead the walk and celebrate her hundredth year. After all the miles she has walked to advocate for a day of celebration on June 19th, she has definitely earned the comfort of air conditioning on a Texas summer day.

Our Executive Director (and candidate for Texas Congressional candidate for Texas District 25) will be in Evansville, Illinois (one of our sponsor cities) for Opal’s Walk and then in Chicago for the Grand Opening of the Obama Presidential Center. We’ll all be walking together at the same time as many folks around the country and the world. Please come and celebrate freedom and unity with all of us.

Event Details

📅Date: Friday, June 19, 2026
Location: Walks taking place across the country

Walk Host Cities:

  • Fort Worth, TX
    • Evanston, IL
  • Cincinnati, OH
  • Los Angeles, CA
  • Grants Pass, OR
  • Washington, DC

Juneteenth has never meant as much to me as it does this year. The constant onslaught of bad news – an unjust war, increasing economic hardships for the majority of Americans, the daily attacks on our freedoms and democracy – can be overwhelming, bringing hopelessness and despair. Juneteenth is a reminder that we all have something to celebrate – our freedom and each other. It offers hope for what we were always meant to be. It’s truly a statement of “we the people”. It’s so much more than a holiday simply honoring the freedom of African American enslaved people. It frees us all from the oppression of fear and hatred that old ideas of class and racism that have weighed on us all. It’s a time to join in unity instead of the deep divisions that so many of us feel.

It truly is a time to, as Ms. Opal says, celebrate freedom from Juneteenth to July 4th. In this 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, celebrating Juneteenth has never been more important – it’s about the freedom we all should have and enjoy. Please join us, whether in one of our host cities on in your town , as we walk together to celebrate unity and Juneteenth.

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A Celebration of Freedom

gregoryjoel

It’s hard to believe that June is already here. I haven’t written much this Spring due to how busy it’s been at the farm. I beat myself up pretty good for not keeping up with our social media and my writing, but I’ve finally given myself a break and returned to “it gets done when it gets done”. Do the best you can each day and go to bed knowing that you did everything that needed to be done today. The farm, and life really, moves at its own pace and we do the best we can do and learn to let go…

Opal’s Farm has had some great volunteer groups this Spring as well as our wonderful regular volunteers. I’m not going to mention you by name simply because I don’t have space to list you all. I want to let you know how appreciated you are. I’m not confused. I know for certain that without you Opal’s Farm wouldn’t be there to provide food and access to healthy food for so many of our neighbors. Please know that every task you help with is another healthy meal served for those that need it most.

I’m always surprised when our corporate volunteers, who often come from some very conservative businesses, talk about the craziness we are all experiencing on a daily basis if one listens to even a small portion of the daily news. The chaos of the last four months has reached each one of us in some way and the thing I hear the most is “What can I do?” Sometimes it’s asked with a genuine desire to find a course of action that really says something to the powers that be but mostly it comes with a deep sense of helplessness, powerlessness, and quiet resignation.

I certainly don’t have the answers. Fortunately, I have the honor and privilege of working with my grandmother (I know she’s everyone’s grandmother, but she told me I’ve been adopted), Dr. Opal Lee; nationally known as “The Grandmother of Juneteenth”. In addition to the farm, and perhaps most importantly, is my annual Juneteenth work and celebration. Juneteenth and Opal’s Farm are about bringing all people, regardless of race, religion, sexual identity, culture, or political beliefs to the table together. As Dr. Opal has told me any times, “It’s not a Texas thing, it’s not a Black thing, it’s a unifier.” There is a way for everyone to show our support for freedom and unity. Celebrate Juneteenth together!

Juneteenth celebrations are more important than ever this year. According to Dr. Charles M Blow, “many cities have cancelled Juneteenth (celebrations)”: mostly out of fear of being considered “DEI” and the current erasure of anything having to do with Black culture and history. ( https://www.cbsnews.com/news/from-celebrating-juneteenth-to-the-erasure-of-black-history-charles-m-blow-on-america-today/ ).

Juneteenth is not a “DEI” initiative. It’s a national holiday that passed with bipartisan support. Even the man currently in the White House (I still can’t say his name aloud or in print) tried to appeal to Black voters in 2020 by making Juneteenth a federal holiday in the last days of his previous administration.

Juneteenth is a day for all of us to remember that freedom is for everyone especially those had had been enslaved. We haven’t cancelled our Juneteenth Celebration here in Fort Worth. We still started our month-long celebration with the Ecumenical Breakfast of Prayer last Friday. The Miss Juneteenth Scholarship Pageant was on Saturday. This coming Saturday will be the stage play, Timmy’s Dance, followed by the “Walk for Freedom” on the 19th, the 1K Women Strong Legacy Awards Breakfast on the 20th,” Empowering You”, a job, health, and education fair on the 21st. The month of activities closes with “Your Voice Unleashed” – a week-long program for our young people including the culinary arts, music, and the choir concert.

We will be walking 2.5 miles (to symbolize the 2.5 years it took for the enslaved people in Texas to discover they were freed) with Dr. Opal on the 19th at 9:00 AM. The walk is timed with our sponsor cities across time zones – New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, and Tokyo, Japan – so that everyone will be walking at the same time.

We also have a virtual walk for those too far away from Fort Worth or our sponsor cities. We encourage everyone to get their “2.5” on and walk with your friends wherever you are. It’s a beautiful show of unity to demonstrate our love for freedom, especially in these difficult times.

I invite everyone to join us in the “Walk for Freedom”. We’d love to hear from those who walk in their own cities and towns. The Walk will be held next year in Washington D.C. in conjunction with the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. We’d love to have 1.5 million people walking together across the country to symbolize the 1.5 million signatures on the petition Dr. Opal delivered to Congress that led to the Juneteenth holiday in 2021.

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The clock is Ticking Again

gregoryjoel

It was sometime during the early years of the Reagan Administration. I can’t remember the date exactly, but I’ve never forgotten the events that night. It was clear and despite the city lights, the stars twinkled brightly on the late winter’s night. I had taken a moment to sit on our big front porch to take in the beauty of the evening before going to bed. I smoked my last cigarette of the day and shut off the lights as I walked through the living room, the kitchen, and down the back stairs to the warmth of our small bedroom in the basement.

Our house was an old farmhouse built in 1890 and sat on two large city lots. It was built long before the area known as Washington Park grew up around it and had much different architecture than the Craftsmen and Victorian homes that came in the early 1900s. It was small – only 950 square feet – and finished in stucco with a flat roof. It even had the old concrete path to where the outhouse would’ve been in its early years. The basement had been finished with two small bedrooms my first wife and I shared next to our boy’s bedroom. It always felt so cozy on a long winter’s night, and I rarely had insomnia issues after sliding into the inviting warmth of the covers and my wife’s arms. It wasn’t much but it was our piece of paradise in the middle of Denver’s urban sprawl.

I’m not sure of the exact time it happened but it was in the early morning hours when sleep is so deep that even one’s dreams are on hold. It was the kind of sleep that we all long for: peaceful and restful. It was also the deep sleep that made it virtually impossible to awaken with a clear mind – the mind remained in that state long after the body was jolted awake. That’s when it happened.

The long, loud scream of the warning sirens blew in the basement window; waning and ebbing as the siren made its circular motion. My wife and I sat up in bed. “What in the hell?”, I demanded as we looked at one another trying to figure out what was up.

 I had grown up with warning sirens in Texas, but there we called them tornado sirens. They were tested monthly so if they ever went off other than 1:00 PM on the first Wednesday of the month it meant you needed to head for a place in your home away from windows and doors and hold on. A tornado was nearby and may hit you soon. North Texas marked the southern end of tornado alley. Growing up in Fort Worth meant having a solemn respect for tornado warnings.

The warning sirens were also called Civil Defense sirens. You see, I grew up during the Cold War between the Soviet Union Eastern Bloc and the West. Both sides had a first-strike capability with the ever-growing stockpile of nuclear weapons. The sirens warned us of an imminent attach by the godless communists. We were supposed to file into the basements of buildings marked as Civil Defense shelters if we were downtown working or shopping (this was BM – Before Malls). If we were elsewhere, such as school, we were supposed to “duck and cover” as if our trusty school desks were to help us survive a nuclear blast. I still remember Tommy Turtle and the black-and-white instructional films (this was BV – before video) that told us how to duck low to the ground, cover our heads, and look away from the blast in case of nuclear attack. It mattered little that we were to be vaporized or brutally burned when the bomb went off. The ostrich approach was probably the best way to go…

Unfortunately, this wasn’t North Texas but Denver, Colorado. In the all the years of junior and senior high school and college I had never heard a warning siren. Nor had I ever seen a tornado in Denver, especially in the winter. They just didn’t happen then (climate change changed that scenario years later). Even if they did, the city wouldn’t be testing the sirens at three o’clock in the morning, so something was going on. I reached over to our bedside alarm clock radio and tuned in to see if there was any news about what was happening. There wasn’t. Was this it? Was this the bomb?

The Cold War had a renewed tension after Reagan was elected President. Saber rattling had become the norm and tensions between East and West were at the highest point since the Cuban Missile Crisis in October of 1963. The nuclear arms race was in full swing. I had proudly been arrested for civil disobedience at the Rocky Flats Nuclear Weapons facility numerous times (once with Father Berrigan!). Nuclear disarmament and peace were the subjects of many a demonstration, however small those might be. Most folks were content to live in fear if it didn’t interfere with making a living and going about normal daily life. The warning sirens made everything suddenly real.

Maybe this was it. Denver would be a prime target in any attack scenario. It boasted the largest Federal center of anywhere outside of Washington, D.C. and was surrounded by Rocky Mountain Nuclear Arsenal, an Air Force Base, and several other military facilities. The likelihood that this would be our last few moments was real. My mind raced with memories of a recent movie sensation, “The Day After”.

Finally, the sirens stopped. My wife, though jolted awake by the sudden emergency, drifted back off to sleep. My boys never woke up through the whole affair. All things slowly returned to normal though I never quite made it back to sleep that night. It had all been too unsettling. The morning news carried a story about the event. It seems somehow water had gotten in a control room and shorted out the wiring, causing the alarms to go off. We were never in danger, only inconvenienced. The event was soon forgotten, and life went about as usual.

Several years later, the Berlin Wall came down, the Soviet Union fell apart and became the Russian Federation, and the Cold War was declared over. Anti-nuke demonstrations faded and the news media found plenty of other things to instill more fear and create more demonstrations over. There were new countries joining the nuclear weapon family. Although they had agendas contrary to the West there has not been the intensity of coverage, nor the fearfulness found in the Cold War years.

2024 is an election year. Many on both sides of the political spectrum say it’s the most important election in America history. I’ve lived long enough to have voted in several “most important” elections. This year really is different though, and for a myriad of reasons. I’ve heard all the arguments but the one that’s been missing is the threat of nuclear catastrophe that is now at its highest point since the 1980s. There may no longer be a Soviet Union but the Cold War between East and West has restarted and could become a “hot” war through miscalculation, misunderstanding, and miscommunication.

Authoritarian rulers like Putin have referred to the nuclear option several times over the last two years in his quest to restore Russian Empire. North Korea improves and expands its nuclear program while other international actors seek to be come nuclear powers. More and more uncertainties enter the equation.

I don’t like fear tactics and that’s not what I hope comes from this story. I hope that this is a subject to be taken seriously when considering election choices in the coming year. Whoever is elected will have the final say over whether we live together or die together. It’s important to consider deeply and prayerfully who we give that power to.

Evaluate real character and integrity. Choose those who demonstrate empathy and compassion for the common good rather than those whose decisions are made for themselves. Who holds up and lives out the values we strive for? Making America great again should be making America what it professes to believe in, and not some idea of selfish, power seekers only seek to make others do their will. Choose wisely. You lives may depend on it…

***I also recommend:

Turning Point: The Bomb and the Cold War available on Netflix

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Enough is Enough

gregoryjoel

I sat on the porch this morning drinking coffee and soaking in the morning. It’s been sprinkling off and on all morning but not enough to keep the mockingbirds and the doves from their vibrant singing and cooing. It’s been unseasonably cool and overcast this morning, but the birds reminded me Spring is really here.

It’s times like these I see how blessed I am. I most certainly don’t deserve it. I spent most of my life making poor choices and living the way addiction dictated how I live. It wasn’t until almost twenty years ago that I finally surrendered, choosing life, and living in the Spirit as best I can. I haven’t been wealthy – this is not another “Prosperity Gospel” tale – but I’ve always had enough. Enough truly is enough…

I was speaking with a friend the other day. They have lived a life of escaping poverty. They grew up in the rural Midwest where the average income was less than ten thousand dollars a year (substantially less) and they didn’t even have electricity for many years of their young life. It’s still difficult for me to remember that there were (and are) people who lived like that in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. As a result, they spend time worrying about never having enough and the fear of losing what they have.

I have also lived in poverty in the past, but mine was of my own making. It was something I never imagined growing up in an upper middle-class home in the suburbs. The fear and constant looking over my shoulder and harming the very ones I loved was something I never intended, but it became more real as my addiction progressed. I often fail to understand the trauma that comes with poverty forced on someone by birthplace and circumstance. I can’t pretend to know the fear that comes with falling back into such a state. I can, however, be present to the reality of my friend.

I believe that has led to so much introspection over the last few weeks. Most of the fear has been removed through my years of recovery. I’m no longer confused. As Brennan Manning says, “Everything is grace.” I have what I have, not because of my own efforts, but because God has graciously provided enough – enough of life’s necessities so I can share and be of service to those around me. I work hard because I have something to offer the world around me. As such, it’s become much easier to live in the world and to be present.

Photo by Hugo Magalhaes on Pexels.com

Saint Francis said, “Above all the grace and gifts that Christ gives to his beloved is that of overcoming self.” It constantly amazes me when I find joy in driving in rush hour traffic because the bluebonnets and other wildflowers are in full bloom along the side of the freeway. When I let go of who I think I am, both when I have an over-inflated ego or tell myself I’m the scum of the Earth – I’m free to acknowledge what a loving God thinks of me. I see the God lives in everything that surrounds me.

“We have very little, so we have nothing to be preoccupied with. The more you have, the more you are occupied, the less you give. But the less you have, the more free you are.”

– Mother Teresa

As I sit at my desk writing this morning, I have four dogs sleeping all around my feet. Ricky and Lucy – the “twins” have exhausted themselves playing together. Jameson is laid across my feet, most likely keeping me working (I’m afraid to move but my foot’s going to sleep!). Sadie is gently snoring by my side. I’m not sure life will get any better. They remind me constantly that I’m important to them and somehow, it’s a constant reminder that God loves me unconditionally. They remind me that “everything is grace” …

If you decide for God, living a life of God-worship, it follows that you don’t fuss about what’s on the table at mealtimes or whether the clothes in your closet are in fashion. There is far more to your life than the food you put in your stomach, more to your outer appearance than the clothes you hang on your body. Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count more than birds.

Has anyone by fussing in front of the mirror ever gotten taller. All this time and money wasted on fashion – do you think it makes much difference? Instead of looking at the fashions, walk out into the fields and look at the wildflowers. They never primp or shop, but have you ever seen color and design quite like it? The ten best-dressed men and women in the country look shabby beside them.

If God gives such attention to the wildflowers… don’t you think he’ll attend to you, take pride in you, do what’s best for you. What I’m trying to do is get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God’s giving… Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your human concerns will be met.”

Matthew 6.27-33 (The Message – Jesus quoted by Eugene Peterson)