Border czar says feds will withdraw 700 law enforcement personnel from Minnesota immediately

Brent and Luke Ganger, brothers of Renee Bonneare testifying Tuesday afternoon at a public congressional forum regarding “violent tactics and disproportionate use of force by Department of Homeland Security agents.”

Below is a transcript of the opening statements made by the Ganger brothers.

Luc Ganger

I was talking to my 4 year old daughter last week when she noticed I wasn’t feeling well. I had to come here today and talk to some important people. She knows her aunt is dead and someone caused this.

She told me that there are no bad people and that everyone makes mistakes. She has the spirit of Nay.

The deep distress our family feels over losing Nay in such a violent and unnecessary way is complicated by feelings of disbelief, distress and desperation for change.

Over the past few weeks, our family took comfort in the thought that perhaps Nay’s death would bring change to our country. And that’s not the case.

The completely surreal scenes that unfold on the streets of Minneapolis are inexplicable. It’s not just a bad day, a tough week, or isolated incidents. These encounters with federal agents change the community and forever change many lives, including ours. And I still don’t know how to explain to my 4-year-old son what these agents are doing when we pass by.

Our family is deeply grateful for the outpouring of love and support from the Minneapolis community and people across the country and around the world.

The prayers and words of support truly brought us comfort and it is significant that these feelings came from people of all colors, creeds and ideals. She is the perfect reflection of Renée, who carried peace, patience and love for others wherever she went.

Our family is a very American mix. We vote differently and we rarely completely agree on the finer details of what it means to be a citizen of this country. We attend various churches and some not at all. And despite these differences, we have always treated each other with love and respect, and we have grown even closer during this very divided time in our country.

And we hope that our family can be even a small example to others, to not let political ideals divide us, to be good like Renée.

But the most important thing we can do today is help this panel and our country understand who Nay is and what a beautiful American we have lost: a sister, a daughter, a mother, a partner and a friend.

Brent Ganger

I would like to share some thoughts from the eulogy I delivered on behalf of my sister last Saturday.

When I think of Renée, I think of dandelions and the sun. Dandelions don’t ask permission to grow. They slip through the cracks in the sidewalk, through the hard ground, to places where you wouldn’t expect beauty, and suddenly they are there – bright, alive, unapologetically hopeful.

It was Renée, and the sunlight, warm, constant, invigorating. Because when she walked into a room, things seemed lighter to her, even on a cloudy day.

Renee had a way of appearing in the world that made you believe everything would be okay. Not because she ignored the difficulties, but because she still chose optimism. She chose to pursue what was good, what was possible, and what was worth loving.

Nay loved fiercely, openly and without hesitation. As a mother, Renée was invested in love, the kind of love that shows up every day, that sacrifices silently, that claps loudly, that believes deeply.

Her children were and still are her heart, walking outside of her body, and she ensured that they felt safe, valued and infinitely loved.

As a sister, she was constant. Someone you can lean on, laugh at, or just sit silently next to. She had a way of making you feel understood even when you didn’t have the words yet. She didn’t just listen, she saw you. She believed in second chances. She thought tomorrow could be better than today. She believed that kindness mattered and she lived that belief.

Even when things were difficult, Nay looked for the light, and if she didn’t find it, she became someone else’s light. It was the exceedingly ordinary things that made Nay so beautiful.

Billions of people now know his name, and it would be so easy to fall into the false belief that great, heroic things are necessary to overcome the world’s difficulties.

But as Tolkien wrote, “it is the small, everyday acts of ordinary people that keep the darkness at bay, the small acts of kindness and love.” This is why the image of dandelions seems so right. People try to pick them up, to neglect them, to reject them – but they always come back stronger, brighter, spreading seeds of hope wherever they land.

Renée sowed these seeds in each of us, in her children, in her family, in her friends, her colleagues and people who may not even have realized they needed her light at that time.

And sunlight, sunlight doesn’t ask for recognition, it just gives, it warms, it nourishes, it helps things grow. Renee did this for us. She helped us grow. She helped us believe in ourselves. She helped us see the good even when life seemed heavy.

Renee is not gone from us. She is in the light that finds us in difficult days. It’s in the resilience we didn’t know we had until we needed it. It is in the laughter, the memories, the love that never stops growing.

Like dandelions, like sunlight and like Renee.