Teri Wells grew up in the kind of musical family that rocks together in a band.

But she is number nine of 12 children, and she never made it on stage as part of the McDonald family band, playing in nursing homes and convents in rural central Illinois.

Wells caught the music bug young and started singing as a toddler. She joined the church choir in grade school. The family band broke up as the older kids went off to college. Wells flourished in the music department in her high school in Springfield, Illinois. She also had a knack for science. She came to St. Louis University to study medical technology and began working in a lab as a microbiologist.

She met her husband in the choir at St. Vincent DePaul Church. When their son was in first grade, the principal asked her if she would help start a music program. She shifted to part-time in the lab, and for the next 20 years, she taught music and directed the choir at St. Frances Cabrini Academy. Her husband directs the music at their church.

Wells is one of those people who deeply connects to music. Early this year, she was scrolling through Instagram when a video stopped her. It was a group of protesters in Minneapolis standing shoulder-to-shoulder and singing "This Is for Our Neighbors Who Are Locked Inside."

Then, they sang outside the hotels where ICE agents were staying:

"Ooh it's OK to change your mind

"Show us your courage

"Leave this behind

"Ooh it's OK to change your mind

"And you can join us

"Join us here anytime."

Wells started sobbing.

"That just slayed me," she said. "These singers were experiencing violence against their neighbors, their city under siege, and they were calling for conversion of ICE?"

That radical love, urging those who had harmed them to join them, shook her. She had been filled with so much anger, sadness, frustration and helplessness watching ICE take away the elderly, preschoolers, teens and parents. She was horrified by the killings of Renee Good and Alex Pretti.

The singing felt so powerful. It gave her a way to channel her grief and rage into peaceful action. She talked to her husband and friends.

"I know we could get people out to sing on a street corner," she said. Within 72 hours of her putting out a message to meet up, more than 60 people showed up at their parish hall.

One of them had seen a video of the Minnesota group singing "Hold On, Hold On, My Dear Ones. Here Comes the Dawn." It made her cry. She was tired of watching and wanted to be doing something. They formed a leadership group for singing resistance in St. Louis.

Wells, 60, had never organized any kind of protest.

They connected with the Singing Resistance organizers in Minnesota, who shared a toolkit and songbook. Dozens of singing groups are cropping up around the country to protest in similar fashion. They started their own Instagram, @SingingResistanceSTL. The bio says they are grounded in love, nonviolence and solidarity and that they welcome anyone to join them. After two meetings, they decided to hold their first singing action last week.

Wells adapted the gospel folk song, "Eyes on the Prize," to call out St. Louis-based Enterprise Mobility, which has refused to answer questions about its relationship with ICE. The company leases cars to ICE. Wells pointed out that this directly contradicts their stated values. The company says that it's here to connect communities, she said, so why are they renting cars to those tearing apart families and communities?

"Keep your eyes on Enterprise, hold on, hold on.

"Put an end to corporate greed

"Give this nation what we need

"Keep your eyes on Enterprise, hold on."

At their first gathering in St. Louis, nearly 200 people showed up on a cold, windy February day. It's unclear whether anyone at Enterprise will be moved by their songs to rethink a profitable federal contract.

A small group beat drums to the rhythm of the chants. A man waved a large American flag.

The singers harmonized, and cars honked. Wells stood in front, leading the street choir, microphone in hand.

She sang her heart out.

Most of us had nothing but a rousing round of applause and awe for the best women athletes in the world, who were breaking records and winning medals at the Winter Olympics. And yet, others -- far removed from any hint of athleticism -- felt compelled to offer disparaging comments targeting their fellow Americans.

It started with the backlash to Lindsey Vonn, one of the greatest alpine skiers of all time. She was the first American woman to win a gold medal in the downhill at the 2010 Olympics. She bagged two more Olympic bronzes in subsequent Games, along with the most World Cup wins of any female skier.

After a major knee surgery, she made an incredible comeback at age 41. She became the oldest skier ever to win a World Cup downhill race earlier in the season, which earned her a spot on the U.S. Olympic team. Despite a ruptured ACL just days before her event, Vonn chose to compete. The world watched in horror after she clipped a gate early in her run and crashed violently. She fractured her leg and was rushed via helicopter for emergency surgery.

The armchair warriors got busy online, criticizing her decision to compete. Experts and Vonn herself have said the torn ACL did not cause her to fall. Plenty of other athletes have competed in high-profile events despite being injured. Vonn competes at the highest level in the world in a sport rife with injuries. She was medically cleared, knew the risks, had a shot at making history and decided to go for it.

That is the kind of courage and grit that took her to the top of her sport. If she had won a medal, the same people tearing her down would have called her a hero.

Then there are the reactions to Eileen Gu, who entered the Olympics already one the greatest freeskiers in history. In a press interview after she won two silver medals, a reporter asked whether she viewed her wins as "two silvers gained or two golds lost."

Gu rightly laughed and rejected the implication that she had lost by winning. She noted that she's "the most decorated female freeskier in history" and that framing silver as a loss was a "ridiculous perspective."

Days later, she went out in the halfpipe and won a gold.

Rather than appreciating her phenomenal athleticism, her win attracted haters -- including the vice president, who criticized her for competing on behalf of China instead of the United States. These same critics didn't call out the other U.S. athletes competing for other countries -- up to 41 in the last Winter Games. In fact, St. Louis Blues goalie Jordan Binnington competed his heart out for Canada in hockey against the U.S. team.

Gu has said she wants to help make her sport more mainstream in China, and the U.S. has the representation. She pointed out that the political criticism comes from anti-China sentiment.

"And also, because I win," she said.

No one would be sniping at her if she had lost.

Vonn and Gu made their own choices and stood by them.

The most embarrassing reaction to American women winning came from the very top. On a congratulatory call to the men's hockey team after their gold-medal victory over Canada, President Donald Trump said that because he was inviting the men to his State of the Union address, he'd also need to invite the gold medal-winning women's team.

"I must tell you," he said, "we're going to have to bring the women's team, you do know that," adding that he "would be impeached" if he didn't.

He managed to diminish the women who had just accomplished exactly what these men did.

This kind of locker room talk is par for the course for Trump, given his lengthy history of insulting remarks targeting women. Although most of the men on the team laughed in response to the disparaging comment, one said "absolutely" when Trump said he had to invite the women, while another shouted "two-for-two," highlighting both victories.

It would have been great to hear more of the men stick up for the women's team.

But these Games made it clear that while the Olympics showcases exceptional talent, it also showcases everyday misogyny.

Ten years ago, a friend shared her desire to give up alcohol for Lent.

It sounds like you're having a very Muslimy Lent, I said to her. Drinking alcohol is forbidden in Islam.

This was back when "wine mom" culture was still going strong. We were part of a tight-knit trio of working moms who followed politics closely. (This habit can go hand-in-hand with the urge to drink excessively.)

The country was nearing the end of Barack Obama's presidency. We were all weary of the years of racist backlash to a Black family living in the White House.

Oh, to be that young and naive again. Little could we have imagined the absolute degradation the next decade would bring to the political culture in our country.

At any rate, my friend successfully detoxed her liver and kidneys for the 46 days from Ash Wednesday to Easter Sunday. That same summer, I slogged through as many of the daily fasts of Ramadan as I could bear. It's always a challenging month for me, but I try my best.

This year, Feb. 18 was both the first day of Lent and the first day of fasting for Ramadan. For the first time, our respective fasts coincided.

"I've decided to resume my very Muslim Lent tradition, so we'll be in it together!" my friend messaged. Our third pal, the only Catholic in our group, said she would also try a dry Lent. She planned to stock up on limes and club soda.

"It's going to be extra hard this year to give up booze," she said. "But I really need to." She didn't need to explain why it was going to be extra hard. Like I said, we all follow the news a little too closely.

Speaking of the headlines, in the days leading up to this holy month for Muslims, one Republican lawmaker made news by offering Muslim Americans this greeting from his X account: "If they force us to choose, the choice between dogs and Muslims is not a difficult one."

Rep. Randy Fine of Florida claims to have shared this in response to a Palestinian New Yorker griping about dog poop left in the snow piles of winter and calling dogs unclean. As a dog lover and owner myself, I will defend my pup, Frankie, as cleaner than most because I pay his exorbitant grooming bills. Of course, I also believe dog owners should pick up after their pets on public sidewalks.

But I think we all know Fine's post had nothing to do with canine etiquette.

Take a look at his past rhetoric -- saying Gazans should "starve away" and referring to a Muslim congresswoman as a "terrorist." This was just another opportunity to broadcast his bigotry and dehumanize 2 billion Muslims.

We've always had boldly ignorant and hateful lawmakers, but in the recent past, such behavior was less tolerated by either political party. Back in January of 2019, House Republicans stripped Rep. Steve King, from Iowa, of his committee assignments after the New York Times published an interview in which King questioned why the terms "white nationalist" and "white supremacist" had become offensive.

This week, the silence from GOP lawmakers in response to Fine's latest hateful remark is discouraging. Sadly, it's not surprising.

A lot has changed within the Republican Party in the past seven years.

I was heartened, however, to see many American leaders and pundits condemning Fine, who calls himself "The Hebrew Hammer."

Brian Krassenstein, a social media commentator with nearly 1 million followers, wrote: "I am Jewish like Republican Randy Fine. If someone posted this and replaced 'Muslim' with 'Jew,' they would be impeached in 2 seconds. Just saying. Don't pick and choose what bigotry is OK. For instance, imagine if Ilhan Omar said this but replaced 'Muslim' with 'Jew.'"

Back in the heyday of wine moms, my friends used to lament the double standard faced by the Obamas, especially in conservative media.

Now, everyone has more sober expectations. My Catholic friend mused about combining the best of our faith traditions.

"Too bad we can't just give up booze during the day and have a cocktail at sundown," she said.