Rainbows and Walls

Rainbows and Walls

Estrella

"I am 24 years-old and I come fleeing from Guatemala. The reason why is because gang members in my neighborhood tried forcing me to deliver drugs for them. I refused. Within a few days, I found out that they killed a transgender friend of mine for refusing as well. So I decided to leave my country so that I wouldn't end up the same way. Now I'm in the Florence Detention Center (FDC) and I need your help to get out and meet my goals and dreams to continue studying here in the US."

- Estrella, transgender person currently in detention 

"According to a November 2013 report from the Center for American Progress, LGBT detainees are 15 times more likely to be sexually assaulted than heterosexual and cisgender detainees."

Read more here:  http://www.advocate.com/commentary/2014/10/14/op-ed-why-you-should-help-me-get-lgbt-people-out-detention

Detention is a horrible place for most detainees, but it can be an especially hostile place for LGBTQ individuals. Transgender or gender queer people like Estrella often face verbal and sexual harassment from guards and other detainees. Detention centers or prisons for undocumented people are divided by sex, leaving little room for people who identity outside of strict gender and sex binaries. Homophobia is rampant in these environments which creates a physically and emotionally unsafe place for LGBTQ people. 

In addition many individuals like Estrella have experienced rejection, prejudice, and violent threats in their home country. When I visited Estrella at the all-male Florence Detention Center, she told me part of her story. 

Estrella grew up in a large family in rural Guatemala. Accustomed to traditional gender roles, his family did not react well when he started to experiment with his gender expression and cut ties with him.  Estrella moved to the city to find more economic and social opportunities. Unfortunately, Guatemala City was not a tolerant or accepting place. Powerful cartel members asked her to transport drugs for them. When she refused, they threatened her life.  She fled Guatemala and migrated to the United States in search of safety and acceptance.  After crossing the border, he was apprehended for Border Patrol and sent to detention. Estrella has been in detention since May 2014, seeking asylum. 

Even though Estrella has faced unprecedented tribulations he remains positive and actively engaged in his community. He takes great pride in his work as a kitchen aid at the detention center, volunteering to work extra hours. As her name indicates, she truly has a powerful glow that surrounds her. Somehow, she has managed to maintain a sense of humor and generosity throughout this time. When I met with Estrella, we laughed about silly things, as he read my palm and predicted how many children is have. We daydreamed about delicious foods that are not available in detention. We cried about the abuses he has experienced. After talking for about two hours, we ended our experience by both praying for one another. 

As I drove home from the detention center, part of me stayed back with Estrella.  I imagined her walking back to her cell, escorted by a guard who probably inspires more fear than security. I imagined her serving food to the very detainees who had abused her earlier that week. I did not want to imagine her spending Christmas alone in a cold cell.  More importantly I did not want to imagine him going back to Guatemala, where his life is endangered.  

Please help us raised funds to pay the bond to get Estrella out of detention before Christmas. Give her the opportunity to fight her asylum case from a safe and loving place. 

I will match every donation up to $100. Please let me know if you have questions or are interested in getting involved. 

Donate!

http://www.gofundme.com/freeestrellita

*Estrella uses masculine and feminine pronouns interchangeably. 

For more info

The Family Who Crosses

The Family Who Crosses

Border Wall with handprints from people who have climbed over to the US side

Recently, I was at a Migrant Resource Center in Agua Prieta, Mexico sharing a meal with a migrant family.  I was there as a part of an intense study of border issues and ministries on the Douglas, Arizona/ Agua Prieta, Sonora area.  Although, I had spent the whole week with a large group of Young Adult Volunteers from the Tucson and Denver, this moment was all about the family sitting across from me.

As we ate our pasta and sipped our sugar-infused juice, we began to talk about where we came from and why we were here in the dusty border town of Agua Prieta.  The father of the family, Ronald*, was charismatic and friendly.  His big green eyes glittered as he excitedly told me that he and his family of four were going to cross the border in the upcoming week.  His glee was uncontainable.  Ronald and his wife, Maria*, animatedly walked me through the details of their itinerary.   

When their coyote (human smuggler or guide depending on your perspective) contacted them, they would drive out into the desert where they would climb over the border wall using a ladder.  Then, they would walk through the harsh terrain, in the dark to the closest American town, Bisbee.  When they assured me it was only a ten-hour hike, I began to get uncomfortable.  This would be a fast-paced hike.  Ronald described how they would have to follow the exact footsteps of their guide to avoid alerting Border Patrol motion detectors or heat sensors.  After arriving in Bisbee, they planned on taking a van to Phoenix, then Las Vegas, and finally Indianapolis to meet his sister.  I wondered how they would do this, as there are Border Patrol checkpoints on the only road out of Bisbee where the guards check for identification.  Maybe they’ll take a dirt road.  Maybe they’ll hide in the trunk or under the floorboards of the car as some migrants do…

By now my heart was racing. I was worried for their safety and worried that their coyote had mislead them so I asked, “Is it worth it for you to endure this dangerous trip?” Ronald replied with an absolute, “Yes.”  Even though he is leaving a good job as a nuclear electrician and his eldest son is leaving college, he believes he can have a better life in the United States.  This family lived in Veracruz, one of the most violent states in Mexico.  Ronald and Maria said they live in constant fear of the cartels.  Ronald confidently said, “I would rather be captured by Border Patrol than the cartels any day.”  Having a good job in Veracruz actually makes him a liability, as the cartels are most likely to extort money from him.  It is a paradoxical situation with little hope of changing any time soon.

After we finished dinner, I thanked Ronald and his family for their honest conversation and wished them the best on their journey.  But saying, “Safe travels” did not suffice.  I kept thinking about them, worrying about them, and praying for them.

“Dear God,

Please let Ronald, Maria, and their two sons find a peaceful, dignified life.  Please help them find their way through the desert.  May they be protected from abuse from their guide or Border Patrol.  God, everyone deserves a dignified life and an opportunity to raise their family without fearing for their lives.  Please protect this family and help them safely reach their destination.”

And what happens if they make it to their final destination?  If they find jobs they will forever work in the shadow class, afraid of deportation.  Will the son who was in University in Mexico, be able to get an American education or will he be resigned to minimum wage labor for the rest of his life?

Even if this family fears deportation and works hard for low wages, this is probably better than living under the reign of a violent cartel.  Due to my privileged and limited perspective, I did not realize that what may seem horrible to me may be a relief to another person who has suffered far greater challenges than I have.

This is blind privilege is one of the many reasons why we do not know how to “secure” our border.  In the 90s, Operation Gatekeeper and other similar policies were enacted to reduce illegal immigration.  The Border Patrol focused its resources on securing metropolitan areas, while leaving the unpopulated desert areas less patrolled.  The official plan was “attrition through deterrence” as Homeland Security thought that the desert would be a natural and obvious boundary for migrants.  This thought process makes sense when coming from a privileged American who is unaware of the conditions of poverty and violence in parts of Mexico.  Yes, desperate hardworking people who cannot find jobs or fear their lives will cross, even if it means risking their lives.  In fact, many people like Ronald see the cacti-laden desert to be a small challenge compared to their daily lives back home.

We will not be able to create just, holistic immigration reform until American politicians are aware of the root causes of immigration to the US, the current socio-political climate in Mexico and Central America, and what people are willing to give up.  Ronald sacrificed his job, home, and son’s college education to climb a wall, walk in the dark, and work minimum wage jobs in hopes of a safer, more dignified future.

Ephesians 2: 11-22

Jew and Gentile Reconciled Through Christ

“Therefore, remember that formerly you are Gentiles by birth and called ‘uncircumcised’ by those who call themselves ‘the circumcision’ (which is done in the body by human hands)- remember that at that time you were separate from Christ, excluded from citizenship in Israel and foreigners to the covenants of the promise, without hope and without God in the world.  But now in Christ Jesus, you who once were far away have been brought near by the blood of Christ.  For he himself is our peace, who has made the two groups one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility, by setting aside in his flesh the law with its commands and regulations.  His purpose was to create in himself one new humanity out of the two, thus making peace, and in one body to reconcile both of them to God through the cross, by which he put to death their hostility.  He came and preached peace to you who were near.  For through him we both have access to the Father by one Spirit.

Consequently, you are no longer foreigners and strangers, but fellow citizens with God’s people and also members of his household, built on the foundation of the apostle and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the chief cornerstone. In him the whole building is joined together and rises to become a holy temple in the Lord. And in him, you too are being built together to become a dwelling in which God live by his Spirit.

·      *For the privacy of these individuals, I have changed their names.

Reflecting at the wall with my roommate Hanbyeol during our border delegation

Jesus Christ Superstar

Musings by Jim Burklo

My placement supervisor, Brandon, recently presented this sermon, which was originally written by Jim Burklo, at a Young Adult Volunteers fundraiser.  I found it to be humorous, beautiful, and reflective of my faith.

The Sermon on Mount Hollywood

Blessed are the clinically depressed, for they all shall get free first-rate psychiatric care when we establish the kingdom of heaven in Los Angeles.

Blessed are the just plain sad, for they shall be entertained by stand-up comics who are secretly just as sad.

Blessed are the shy, for Hollywood needs them:  it has too many extroverts as it is.

Blessed are those who want to do the right thing when surrounded by opportunities to lie and cheat.

Blessed are truly nice people in a town with so many people who get paid to pretend.

Blessed are the pure in heart, even if that means they get fewer gigs.

Blessed are the gang members who choose peace instead of revenge.

Blessed are those who recommend others for auditions without expectation of getting recommendations from them, for theirs is the kingdom of very good karma.

Blessed are you when people talk smack about you on Facebook and dis you on Yelp;

Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they messed up the social media of the prophets who were before you.

You are the salsa of the world.  But if salsa goes stale, its flavor cannot be restored.  It's so bad it would kill the worms in your compost heap.  So be that fresh tub of salsa that’s always ready in the fridge.  Let others savor your flavor!

You are the spotlights of the world.  A city built on Hill Street cannot be hid.  Nobody puts an LED lamp under a laundry basket, but instead you let it shine on the bedstand so you can read the LA Times.  In the same way, let the light within you shine a bright beam into the smog and direct the public toward your good deeds, so that people will say Wooo Hooo to Love, who is God, who inspired you to do them.

You've heard it said that murder is wrong, but I say to you that anger is just as bad.  So take that anger management course at the community center before the court mandates it.  You've heard it said that no good can come from sleeping with your boss's publicist.  But I say that even thinking about it is trouble.  

You've heard it said, a bad review for a bad review.  But I say to you, when you get a bad review, invite the reviewer for drinks at the Dresden in Los Feliz, and pay the tab gladly.  God is what happens when you do that.  God is a rare LA rain falling on jerks and good dudes and dudettes alike. 

You've heard it said that you should love your neighbor and hate your landlord, but I say to you, love your landlord -- yes, even love your condo association president.  What reward do you get for loving people who are like you?   Even paparazzi love each other.  God is what happens when you love the apartment manager who kept your security deposit for no good reason.  

When the guy in the Red Line subway station, the guy with the dreadlocks and the scruffy dog, you know who I mean, that guy in the subway who asks you for money, give it to him.  Give him a lot.  Don't tell him to get a job.  Don't tell him to pull himself up by his nonexistent bootstraps.  Just do it.  Yes, he will buy ganja with it, but so what?  The suits with window offices at Seventh and Figueroa buy ganja, too.  Just give him the money.  And don't tell anybody you did it.  God is the knowledge of the good you do when nobody else is looking. 

When you pray, cut the "we just ask you Jesus", "we just praise you Jesus”, we "just this" and "we just" that.  God hates Christian jive and especially God hates Christian radio.  Enough of the Jesusey talk.  When you pray, you are not talking to me, you are talking to my Dad in heaven.  So put it out there in plain English.  Spanish is cool, too.  Here's how Dad wants you to pray:  "God, you rock.  Whatever you want, I want.  I only want enough so that I can do what you want.  I want you to forgive me for messing up against you, like I want to forgive others for messing up against me.  Please don't make my life any more complicated than it already is.  Don’t let telephone solicitors get my number, and deliver me from email spam, because yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever, amen."

Don't store up treasure in that Self Storage unit under the 101 freeway, where roaches and excessive bills proliferate.  Put your treasure in heaven, where junkies can't rip you off.  Nobody can work for two film directors at the same time.  They will make your schedules conflict just out of spite.  You cannot serve God and Donald Sterling at the same time.

So really, don't worry about whether your Levis are properly distressed, or whether or not the stainless steel spike in your lip is screwed in straight.  God has counted every hair on the coyote that keeps you up at night with its howling in Laurel Canyon.  So much more has God measured exactly how long your fashionable two days' worth of beard has grown. Stop worrying about tomorrow when you’re reading today's Variety Magazine.  Sufficient for today are today's troubles on the Channel 5 Nightly News. 

Don't judge, lest you be judged.  Hello?  How basic is this?  Don't post an ugly picture of somebody on Instagram, lest you be similarly posted.  Why do you whine about the dandruff on your neighbor's eyelash, when you have a gob of spluge on yours?  Don't be a hypocrite.  Get the funk out of your own eye first.

Enter through Fountain Street, for Sunset is a wide road that leads to destruction, and there are many who take it.  For the intersection is narrow and the street is full of potholes that leads to life, and there are few who find it, even with GPS.

Beware of false promoters who come in designer poodle's clothing but inwardly are hungry coyotes.  You will know them by their fruits.  Are pomegranates gathered from poison oak, or oranges from greasewood?  A good jacaranda cannot blossom bad flowers. 

Everyone who hears what I'm saying is like a person who builds her house on ten-foot deep reinforced concrete piers.  And everyone who hears my words but doesn't follow them will be like the foolish person who builds his house on top of an earthquake fault.  The earth shakes, the house collapses, the lawyers show up, and great is the fall of that house!

From A to Z

From A to Z

It's been a busy few weeks and I have not gotten a chance to blog.  Here are some snapshots of my Tucson life recently.

Ab workouts - When my coworkers and I are feeling tired or disengaged we get up and do an "ab break." I absolutely love it. After doing planks and sit-ups, we feel so much more energized and focused.

Brandon is our fun-loving site coordinator.  Last time we were driving in the desert, he made sure to stop every time we saw a tarantula on the road so we could examine it.

Costumes - For Halloween, I am dressing as a biker chick.  I am happy to say that my outfit includes a denim crop top, leather boots, and temporary tattoos.  Two of my housemates will celebrate Halloween for the first time this year.  April, who comes from a Pentecostal background, has not allowed to participate as a child.  Hanbyeol is from Korea, where they do not celebrate Halloween.

Davidson friends - I am so thankful for my two Davidson alumni friends who live in Tucson.  Andrea and Iain have not only helped me transition to a new city, but have also helped me stay connected to my North Carolina community.

Equality - Recently, gay marriage became legal in Arizona!  My neighbors have been together for decades and can finally marry now.  My house was invited to the wedding!

Food Bank - I've gone on many trips to the Food Bank, where we get most of our groceries.  Who says you can't eat expired food?

Glamorous Dinners - My housemates and I host a community dinner every Friday where we cook a big meal and invite over a few people.  Last week, we had pork tenderloin, mashed potatoes, sauteed green beans, and baked apples with crumble and ice cream for a dessert!  We try to add a touch of beauty to our lives by creating flower arrangements, lighting the candles in the fireplace, and playing great music.  It's one of my favorite parts of the weekend.

Hens - Ok, so I may have contemplated killing the chickens in the backyard, but now I love them.  We bonded during my morning feeding chores.  I am especially fond of Loquita who is tiny, but full of personality!

The Family Photo

Intentional Community - My housemates and I have had many conversations about how we can best live together in a way that pushes us to be better individuals while still respecting our boundaries.  We come from various economic, cultural, and regional backgrounds so there is a lot to discuss!  Living in community, sharing resources and uncovering personal stories has been one of the most challenging parts of my YAV experience, but also one 0f the best parts.  My housemates keep me accountable, and encourage me to expand my perspective while trying to actually live out my Christian faith.

My Community

Jokes - Every evening, I come home from work and laugh for about three hours straight.  My housemates are hilarious and help me stay light even when I am working with heavy issues.

Allie and Hanbyeol

Korea - Who would have thought I'd come to Tucson to learn about South Korea?  Hanbyeol, one of my housemates, is from South Korea and has taught me a lot about Korean food, history, music, and standards of beauty.  

She also encourages me to analyze my own culture.  The other day, I tried to explain the issues in Ferguson in simple English.  I ended up explaining about 200 years of American race relations.

When I tried to explain Halloween, she asked, "Why do they scare the children?"  
Well, that's a good question.  I don't know.

Loneliness - After living in Tucson for two months, some of the "newness" has worn off.  Lately, I have been missing my family and college friends.  Although, I am grateful for my work friends and housemates, I was growing weary of introducing myself and trying to explain where I come from.  I long for familiarity and deep relationships.

Music - Last Friday, I went to a fundraising concert for the Florence Project, a non-profit that provides detained immigrants with legal representation.  A band called Santa Cecilia played a mixture of cumbia, rock, and Tex-Mex music. I especially like their song Ice El Hielo, which is about the daily lives on undocumented people in the US.  I recommend the music video!

Nogales - Recently, I spent a couple days in Nogales, Mexico where I met with representatives of an immigrant shelter called Kino Border Initiative.  This is a wonderful organization that provides food, shelter, medical care, and Know Your Rights classes for vulnerable immigrants.  I served tortillas to about 50 tired, weather-worn, brave immigrants.

View of Nogales, Mexico

Office - Last week the BorderLinks Education Department had a staff retreat where we went on a hike, did a conflict resolution workshop, and envisioned what we will do this year.  Afterwards, I felt closer to my coworkers and more excited about becoming a trip leader.

Public Speaking - YAV has been an exercise in public speaking.  I've spoken about the YAV experience at a different church every Sunday for the last month.

Queer Immigrants - At a Mariposas Sin Fronteras fundraiser, I got the opportunity to write three letters to LGBTQ immigrants who are currently in detention. Many queer detainees undergo abuses due to their sexual orientation or gender expression.  Mariposas Sin Fronteras is an organization that supports these individuals in immigration detention by visiting them and raising money for their bond release. 

Riding bikes - We like to do yoga as we bike.  

Spanglish - I get to speak Spanish with many of my coworkers and I love it.  

Some of my friends from work: Indira, Nancy, and Josue

Tumamoc - Tumamoc is a short, but steep hike by my house.  I absolutely love the view of Tucson from the top.  My goal is to hike this hill at least once a week.

Unplugged - I have not had internet access at home for the last three weeks.  Although, this can be frustrating and isolating, it can also spark creativity.  I have started reading the books on my bedside table.  Emily has journalling more.  Allie has gone on evening walks to the local cafes.  April has even brought out her crocheting needles!

Vigils - In the last month, I have been to several prayer vigils for Rosa Robles Loreto, who is in sanctuary at Southside Presbyterian Church.  Vigils usually consist of a call and response invitation to worship, a couple Bible passages, and prayer.  It is a peaceful way to create community and stay focused on social justice issues.

Prayer Vigil for Rosa (picture on poster) outside of the Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) building

Whaling - Some of you may have heard of this YouTube sensation.  My housemate, Allie, and I are determined to bring Whaling to Tucson.  #Whaling

Xerophilous - Definition: "cable of thriving in a hot, dry climate, as certain plants and animals."  I am becoming xerophilous!

Yoncé - One of my favorite ways to relax these days is to do yoga while blasting Beyoncé's newest album on our house speakers.

"I am a grown woman.  I can do whatever I want."

Zaftig - Definition: "having a full, shapely figure: said of a woman"   
Fun fact about “zaftig:” It’s a Yiddish word that comes from the German “saftig,” which means juicy.  This is my new favorite personal adjective. 

The Things They Carried

The Things They Carried

A torn shirt.
A broken toothbrush.
A pair of damp socks.
A broken backpack.
A baseball cap.
Twenty cracked water bottles.

The Things They Carried
Source: Abigail Osborne, a member of the Jesuit Volunteer Corps, a friend, and a great photographer

These are some of the items I found during my walk in Coronado National Forest with The Samaritans last weekend.  The Samaritans are a humanitarian aid group of volunteers who patrol the desert, looking for migrants who need help, and place food and water in places along migrant trails, where vulnerable people can access them.

Source: www.tucsonsamaritans.org

In the last decade, the Border Patrol has increased militarization and protection of the border near cities, forcing the desperate to cross in the desert.  During the summer, people usually cannot carry enough water to stay hydrated in 105 degree weather.  During the winter, the desert can also reach hazardously low temperatures.  Below is a graph of the urban areas like San Diego or Nogales that have been heavily patrolled and the alternative routes migrants have created.  Read more here.

Source: "'Trash-talk' and the production of quotidian geopolitical boundaries in the USA-Mexico borderlands." by Juanita Sundberg

Source: Washington Office on Latin America

.....

After driving for hours and hours, we reached a remote canyon where migrants were known to hike.  We packed our bags with portable foods, gallons of water, and medical supplies.  With the help of a GPS, we found a flagged area were we deposited the supplies.  

Unsurprisingly, we did not encounter any travelers, but we did see clues they had left behind.  I was walking along a dirt path when I found a ripped and broken backpack packed with torn, empty water bottles.  It was eery to know that this disheveled piece had once been an essential part of someone's journey.

As I looked at the backpack, I wondered:

Who used this backpack?

Where were they from?

Did they survive the trip?

Did they get apprehended by Border Patrol?  

If so, are they going to jail?  Will they try crossing again?

What were they running from?  What were they running to?

The Backpack

A sign we passed in the national forest 

No More Deaths is another humanitarian group in Tucson that provides migrants with water and medical care.

Some questions I am grappling with:

Was this experience sightseeing or service?

Have I been exoticisizing or othering "the migrant"?

Humanitarian aid is wonderful, but it is only a bandaid for a gaping wound.  How can we fix this system that forces people to risk their lives patrolling and crossing the border?

Source: Abigail Osborne, a member of the Jesuit Volunteer Corps, a friend, and a great photographer

Culpable. Guilty. Culpable. Guilty. Culpable. Guilty.

Operation Streamline

Currently, I am getting trained to lead educational trips with BorderLinks.  I am fortunate to get to do hands-on work that introduces me to different parts of the immigration system.  Last week, I went to the Tucson courthouse with my coworkers to observe Operation Streamline.

Before Operation Streamline (OS), undocumented immigrants apprehended by Border Patrol were process and then quickly deported back to their home countries.   Many migrants would try to cross multiple times.  In order to deter multiple entries and increase Border Control morale, the Arizona government implemented Operation Streamline and criminalized illegal immigration.  Individuals who are tried under Operation Streamline receive harsher punishments as they are tried in a criminal court, instead of an immigration court.   Almost all migrants are encouraged to plead guilty to the charge of illegal entry and accept up to six months in prison before deportation.

Every week day, at 1:30 pm 70 immigrants are processed through Operation Streamline.


Wednesday, September 24th, 1:35 pm, 98 degrees outside

I sat on a hard wooden pew.  To my left sat about 20 male public defenders and lawyers in crisp suites.  In front and above me sat a judge at a large hardwood desk.  To my left sat about 40 immigrants, waiting to be convicted.  Most were male and all were from Mexico, Honduras, or Guatemala.  They wore casual clothes that were caked in dirt from their recent border crossing.  Each migrant was shackled at the wrists and feet and wore a chain around their waist.

My courtroom looked much like this.  I sat in the top left corner.  Most of the immigrants were on the right, against the wall.
Source: stopstreamline.org

Confined by their chains, they shuffled and limped as walked to the front of the room and answered the judge's questions.  Each detainee wore earbuds that translated English, the dominant language of the court, into Spanish, their native language.

The public defenders stood next to the individuals they represented, towering over them as most of the immigrants were short with small bone structures.  Since all belts were taken away from the detainees (for safety reasons), several of men's pants were sagging low on their waste.  One man's pants were falling off his behind, exposing my lime green underwear.  How humiliating.

Shackles.  Chains. Constrained movement.  A language you do not understand.  Exposed underwear.  Imprisonment. 

What does dehumanization look like?

The judge asked the same four questions to each person.

"Are you a citizen of (country that is not the United States)?"

"Did you cross the border on or around (fill in date) in or around (fill in border town)?"

"Did you cross using a legal port of entry?"

"Are you guilty of illegally entering the United States?"

               "Culpable."
                    - migrant

               "Guilty."  
                     - translator

After answering these four questions, each migrant was shuffled to a holding facility, where they would wait before going to prison.  As they walked by my pew, almost every person looked me in the eye.  I did not know how to react.  Should I smile at them?  Should I nod my head to recognize their humanity?  Should I look away?  Should I stare back blankly?

This assembly line of prosecutions was only stopped once by one male who took the stage to explain why he crossed the border.  In broken English he said,

"I ask for mercy.  I am sorry, but I crossed for love.  I have a daughter here.  You have to understand, I crossed for love."

As, is customary, the judge responded by saying, "Thank you. We appreciate your comments" as he waved them on.

This sketch is similar to what I observed in court.
Source: endstreamline.org