I am reading about the men who disappeared to El Salvador because of their tattoos, and find myself having flashbacks to 1990 the first time I was arrested and strip searched. The police were eager to find any tattoos to photograph while I was standing there naked in a holding cell. I didn’t have any. I only have this gaping scar on my leg from a chainsaw-—good enough, snap a photo!
I would go through the same ordeal several more times over the course of the decade-—inscribing on me, DO NOT GET A TATTOO!! Shortly after the final time I was photographed I also decided that I would stop getting in trouble and stay out of jail, but I still would never get a tattoo. I may not be a criminal anymore but I damn sure didn’t want a tattoo to be used to identify me or profile me.
So, it makes me smile to have finally gotten a tattoo and I also find myself in the fucked up timeline where people are being profile and disappeared because of their tattoos. Granted, I am white, so I have less to fear than these poor black and brown souls, but the emotions are still there. It breaks my heart to watch what the conservatives are doing to this country, and their inability to see black and brown people as humans.
I am not afraid. Not because something won’t happen due to my privelege, but because I am in a better headspace today and my finances are on a much more solid foundation. I can pass for white and conservative the way I look, but my tattoo may not help. Maybe I will get a special one for the fascists this time around—-something they’ll love when they take a photo this time around.
