The migrant caravan that has arrived at the border between Mexico and the Unites States came to our attention back in early October. Back when thousands were walking across a bridge between Guatemala and Mexico. Back when Mexican authorities were scrambling to give priority to the women and children who had made it that far. Back when tiny Mexican villages of nuns and good people were feeding and clothing those who needed care and shelter.

These are impoverished and hungry people who have determined that their lives hold no value in a crime-ridden Central-American country. Who know of no way to have work and food and housing in a homeland that offers no opportunities. People who have walked 2,500 miles across Mexico to reach a destination that offers them hatred and month after month of detention.

And we who are privileged are still sitting at home.

We should be there. In numbers greater than the caravan, we who are privileged should have arrived in Mexico at the border and mingled with them. If we had done so – ye senators and sports giants, ye progressives and protesters – chances are there would be no tear gas and no threats of lethal force.

We need a counter-caravan of humanitarian souls who are lawyers and sponsors and interpreters. People who can tend and befriend. And especially, people who are willing to stand alongside the migrants to let them know they are our kinfolk, our brothers and sisters. Our presence there would not allow the militant and the high and mighty snobs to treat the migrant throng as if they were all criminals or animals.

A feminist knows how much it means to have men marching with women and joining their causes. A young person protesting school shootings is energized by elders fighting for gun regulation. A special Olympian athlete is empowered by the presence of able-bodied and mentally fit supporters.

We who are privileged are having some trouble understanding this. With a response rate slower than cold molasses running uphill in January, we are still sitting at home when our presence is needed in this migrant caravan and so many other places.

Living as equals means standing alongside those being oppressed and marginalized, lifting them up to a place where they, too, belong.