A quiet library study room in Fargo started to fill up as I watched over a blurry zoom screen. I was on a train barreling through the snow towards the southern suburbs of Chicago. We just had a massive winter storm — it migrated over Fargo by then. I was getting emails all morning to see if the event at the library was still going to happen — they hoped we weren’t cancelling the event because of the storm. Dozens of people drove through the North Dakota blizzard to learn about Gaza.
One of the event organizers drove from the Twin Cities to be there. Her story was the centerpiece of the teach-in on Gaza: she’s from Fargo and her dad’s family was one of the thousands of Palestinian families violently displaced from their homes in the Nakba of 1948.
At first glance, Fargo and Gaza couldn’t seem further a part. But then you meet the Palestinians who live there, who are mourning over a dozen members of their family. Also, before the first event we found out that North Dakota is the only state with clearance from the FAA to fly drones at higher altitudes. As a result, North Dakota agricultural researchers partnered with Israeli weapons manufacturer Elbit Systems to test drones in the state — the same company whose drones regularly fly over Gaza. 6,200 miles between Fargo and Gaza began to feel like inches.
What the organizers of the teach-in thought would happen was that a small group of curious people from town would come, maybe someone who disagreed with them. But who actually showed up were people who already knew quite a bit, some from personal experience and some who were in the same spot as the organizers: furious about what was being done in our name, with our money, and without our consent. This was January 13th — it hasn’t even been three months and some of the most inspiring organizing for Palestine is taking place in Fargo, North Dakota.
The last few months have felt like a blur. The days blend together and I’ve lost track of time, friendships, and myself. For that reason I don’t remember exactly when Prairie reached out to me about starting a chapter of CODEPINK in Fargo or how fast our turn around time was in getting the first event together. I do remember my first zoom call with her about it — and how angry she was. I also don’t remember the death toll in Gaza at the time. Any recollection of the recent past is overshadowed by the images I see each day. Today, it was a little boy who’s skin clung to his bones laid out on a table. Israel starved him to death and our country enthusiastically encouraged them to. The death toll has nearly quadrupled since people in the United States started begging their politicians to utter the word ceasefire.
So many people around Fargo carried the same anger that the chapter quickly expanded to two cities. These organizers have been chasing at the urgency of the moment, letting their anger and love drive them as fast as the crisis pushes them to. They’ve already passed one of the most radical ceasefire resolutions in the country through both Moorhead’s and Fargo’s Human Rights Commissions. In both cities, it passed unanimously. Not only does their resolution call for a ceasefire, it elevates the demand to federal politicians to stop funding for Israel. And routinely people ask them why Fargo or Moorhead should comment on something happening so far away. Unflinchingly, and without failure, they answer: Our city cares about people. We care about each other. That’s why.
They’ve worked diligently to show up at every city commission meeting since their first event. In less than three months, they’ve agitated public officials enough to get a proclamation from the mayors of both cities calling for a “negotiated settlement”. Fargo residents quickly said thank you, but that’s not good enough. We want more. We won’t compromise our position during a genocide. Given the images we see out of Gaza every day, how does compromise make any sense?
One thing Prairie said in our first interest meeting for the Fargo area was that we don’t have to be saints to challenge power where we live. We just need to do it, whatever personal history we are coming from. Led by righteous anger and love, a massive group of people from all kinds of histories and backgrounds will force the cities of Fargo and Moorhead to demonstrate where it will stand as an active genocide is being carried out in our name. Very soon, both cities will vote on the ceasefire resolution.
The short timeline that CODEPINK Fargo-Moorhead and other organizers were able to accomplish these things may indicate some ease in the process. None of it was easy and all of it took a lot of time. All this work happened by regular people pushing through their paralyzing anger and deciding that they love their city, community, and world enough to not just sit back and watch a genocide happen without doing anything.
Fargo isn’t fucking around. We shouldn’t be either. Here’s a few examples of what they’ve been up to.
Originally published at
.