Do Not Hesitate To Leave Your Old Ways Behind

Some people spend Valentine's Day kissing their boyfriends.  Some spend the day bingeing on chocolates with their gal pals.  I spent the day speaking about migrant justice at University Presbyterian Church in Tempe, Arizona.  This church graciously invited the Tucson YAVs to be their weekend guests during Mission Month.  We led a workshop on Solidarity, Charity and Advocacy, preached, spoke during Adult Education and went on a short hike with the youth group.  I'm thankful  for the opportunity to share my reflections on my year service.

The four Tucson YAVs, Allie, Emily, Hanbyeol, and I preached a sermon together.  First, we read a poem called Passover Remember, which we first heard during YAV Orientation in August.  Then, we used different verses to individually reflect on the our experiences during the first half of our YAV year.

Workshop on Solidarity, Charity, and Advocacy
Source: University Presbyterian Church

Below is my part of the sermon.  Click here to hear a recording of our sermon.  

Do not hesitate to leave

Your old ways behind –

Fear, silence, submission

… Then begin quickly,

before you have time to sink back

into the old slavery

Why do we feel the need to create borders?  How do we build equal and respectful relationships with people who are unlike us?  How can I work as an ally with those who are oppressed? What does modern day slavery look like? These are some of the questions I’ve grappled with during my year of service with Young Adult Volunteers. 

I have been blessed with the opportunity to serve at BorderLinks, where I organize and lead educational trips about the border.  During the last six months, I have spent time with a wide variety of people who have taught me more than I could have imagined. 

While observing the 25-foot border wall that separates Mexico and the United States, I have prayed with seminarians, reflected with teenagers, and taken pictures with retirees.  I have led workshops for squirmy middle schoolers where we explore what the words “immigrant,” “border”, or “family” mean to them.  Brave migrants have told me their harrowing testimonies at shelters in border towns like Nogales and Agua Prieta, Sonora.  I’ve wept as a woman recounted her experience of crossing the desert, getting detained by Border Patrol, and separated from her husband.  I have visited migrants at Florence Detention Center who migrated north to escape cartel violence in Honduras and Guatemala.  I have felt the panic that constricts your chest when you learn that your friend’s undocumented husband was just detained.  In the last few months, the border has come a part of me.  It is present in my thoughts, my tears, my worries, and my prayers.

In addition to learning about the challenges on the border, I had the chance to meet people who are bringing human dignity back to this region.  Raul, one of my friends and coworkers, spent last Christmas in a cold detention center, visiting detainees who have no one else to support them.  My friend, Josue, grew up undocumented, and is now organizing with other young migrants to get more access to higher education.  My local Presbyterian church, Southside, has opened its door to provide sanctuary to an undocumented mother so she can stay with her two boys and husband.  

If your Christ is not Chicano, what is he?

Amidst the darkness, I have also witnessed a powerful display of God’s love in the borderlands.  We are lucky to be part of a community of students, pastors, church members, atheists, migrants, and allies who have bonded together to turn barriers into bridges and make our earth look more like God’s kingdom.  As the Bible says in Ephesians 2: 13-15,  “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.”  

During the last six months, my eyes have opened, my heart has ached, and my resolve has been strengthened.  With the support of my fellow volunteers and coworkers, I have begun to acknowledge my privilege, my citizenship and the effects of my country’s policies.

My work here has encouraged me not to “sink back into the old slavery” of injustice, prejudice, and ignorance.  I truly believe that the most radical act of love is to introduce people to each other.  If be build relationships, we realize we are linked.  Their struggle is our struggle.  Our society’s borders affect us all by perpetuating division, fear, and even hatred.  If we leave behind our fear, silence and submission we can reach a state of collective liberation where we are all free.  

Adult Education
Source: University Presbyterian Church

 

Hike with University Presbyterian Church youth group
I am in the hat.
Source: University Presbyterian Church

Because I'm Happy

Because I'm Happy

Getting to Know Tucson: Recently, I feel like I have turned a corner.  I feel more happy and comfortable in Tucson.  Between my work schedule, YAV activities, and Christmas vacation I was out of town almost every weekend in November and December.  During January, I actually got a chance to get to know Tucson and it's been great!  

View of Tucson from a hill near my house

Community of Volunteers: I am so thankful for my housemates and my Tucson community.  There are several other service corps in the area such as the Mennonite Voluntary Service, Food Corps, AmeriCorps, and Jesuit Volunteer Corps.  This means I've gotten to connect with other 20-somethings who are doing similar work and also want to explore Tucson. 

A few weeks ago, a couple Mennonite friends invited me to watch a play about sexuality in the church called Listening for Grace.  It was hilarious, poignant, and beautiful.  Ted  Swartz, the writer and main actor, uses comedy to spark conversation about controversial topics like homosexuality.  His goal is to get church communities to discuss uncomfortable topics.  After watching the play, members of the Mennonite church stayed to share their reactions.  Although there was a variety of opinions, the audience was noticeable affected.

I am thankful to be a part of a community of young Christians who are willing and excited to tackle contentious issues like sexuality, immigration, and racism.

Hiking Picacho Peak with some Mennonite volunteers
Source: Emily Oshinkie

YAV Support: There are several YAV alumni and board members who have reached out to help us with our transition.  Various board members have taken the my fellow YAVs and I to different places and events this month.  It feels a little silly to go on "field trips" to museums or concerts, but it has really helped me get to know the city.  We went to a natural museum called the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum, a gem show, and an Avett Brothers concert.  Sometimes simple living doesn't feel so simple :)

We also have Vocational Discernment classes every other week that provide a space to reflect on our work and ruminate on what we should do after our year of service.  These classes include activities such as reading poems, collaging, doing the Examine, following a guided meditation, and walking a labyrinth.  Allie Wood, a former Tucson YAV, leads the classes and also meets with us individually for coffee dates every other month.  These meetings have become a sacred time when I can confide in someone who is familiar with my work placement and intentional community.  Her compassionate listening and questioning have helped me process some of my most intense YAV experiences.  I am so grateful for her friendship and mentorship.

We went to the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum with YAV board member Julie Karra. 

Finding My Space at Work:  I feel more confident at work now that I have led two BorderLinks delegations (educational trips) with Santa Clara University and Carroll University.  I enjoy facilitating discussions, leading workshops, and supporting my participants as they come to terms with some harsh realities.  January was a busy month at work, but the staff bonded together as a team, encouraging one another when we were tired or overwhelmed.  I'm glad to work with such smart, motivated, and compassionate people.

Two coworkers and me 

Students from a delegation I led observe the border wall in Nogales, Sonora, Mexico

Tucson feels more and more like home.  Several days this week, I have been overwhelmed with happiness.  I feel so fortunate to live in a beautiful, multicultural space surrounded by coworkers and community members who care about me.  Leaving school has been difficult as I am far from my friends and family, have no idea what I want to do with my life, am fumbling my way through a new job, have to deal with real world responsibilities like paying bills, cooking myself dinner every night, etc.  Even so, like all my graduated friends, I have been working through these post-grad challenges.  Nevertheless, I feel supported my community as they are doing similar work and asking similar questions.  My housemates sit with me as I try to figure out how my small stipend will cover my utilities and my food expenses.  My housemates help me patch my tire when my bike gets a flat.  My housemates make me watch "Friends" when I have spent too much time discussing heavy topics like institutionalized poverty and prison systems.  Living in an intentional community with people who are quite different from me can be demanding, but it can also be incredibly fun and supportive.  I get to come home to friends who will ask how my day was, listen to my answer, and make sure I laugh a little. 

Thank you to everyone in Tucson and beyond who has supported me with this move.

My home in Tucson
Source: Abigail Osborne

A Week in the Life of a YAV

A Week in the Life of a Young Adult Volunteer

I wrote most of this blog a few months ago, but never finished it until now.  Here is a depiction of one of my many full, challenging, and joyful weeks during my YAV year.

Sunday, Oct. 26th, 2014

I start the day by visiting my coworker's Spanish-speaking Pentecostal church.  Unsurprisingly an hour service turns into three hours of singing, laughing, praying, and eating.  My coworker, Nancy, sings beautifully and also stars in a biblical skit about David.  Apparently, Apostle David was blonde...

Nancy dressed as David

Next, I come home to discover that we have spontaneously decided to host a barbecue for 15 people so I start chopping and marinating.  A beautiful mixture of coworkers, volunteers, and refugees show up with an array of foods and drinks.  We sit outside and enjoy the balmy late-October weather Arizona has gifted us.  The evening morphs into a time of sharing musical talents.  Hanbyeol plays the flute and sings a high-pitched, airy Korean song.  (Listen here.)  Emily chimes in with a deep, soulful tune.  Jean Marie, a Burundi refugee, sings "He Raised Me up."  I sit back and marvel at the rich culture and talent that surround me. 


Monday, Oct. 27th, 2014

After work, I go to my first Academia Liderazgo (Leadership Academy) meeting, the first of an eight-week course on community organizing and social justice issues.  As I sit and eat my Domino's pizza I note what it feels like to be one of the two White people in the room.  We go around the room to introduce ourselves, where we are from, and what organization we represent.  The room is full of people involved in diverse political and social groups that serve the Latin American immigrant community in Tucson.  We go through the syllabus, which includes topics such as systems of oppression, machismo, and Zapatismo.  I am excited to be learning about these issues and am especially grateful to be learning side-by-side with Spanish-speaking individuals who have experienced the negative effects of immigration policy and have decided to get involved to educate and uplift their communities.  I feel privileged to be in this space. 


Tuesday, Oct. 28th, 2014

I get to work at 7:30 AM and jump in the van.  We drive for an hour before arriving at Florence Detention Center.  I check to make sure I am prepared: close-toed shoes, no revealing clothing, and an ID.  I've been briefed on what to say and do, but I am still nervous.

As I wait for the guards to escort me into the visiting room, Norlan, a local day laborer, and activist, walks out of detention.  Just by coincidence, I was there at the exact moment he was released.  Finally outside the prison walls, he walks swiftly up to his beaming partner Marbel, gives her a hug and kisses his baby girl.  I feel so happy to see him reunited with his family.  I met Marbel and her baby, Genesis, on my first day of work at BorderLinks.  They were the first family I had ever met that had experienced detention.  I feel grateful that I have been able to witness this part of their story and congratulate them on Norlan's release.  
Read my blog about meeting Marbel.

Marbel, Norlan and baby Genesis together at last!

I walk into the detention visiting room and meet Estrella, a trans-gender person from Guatemala.  We sit down, introduce ourselves, and exchange awkward smiles.  First, we chat about Guatemala and then she tells me her story.  She migrated north to escape cartel and anti-trans violence.  Read my blog entry about Estrella.  Although, she has experienced much trauma, she keeps a positive disposition.  We laugh, draw pictures, and she even predicts my future through palm reading.

***Estrella was released from detention in December and is now fighting her asylum case from a safe place.  I was thrilled to learn she'd been released!

Picture take mid-January: Estrella and me at my house

Wednesday, Oct. 29th, 2014

After work, I walk home and cook dinner for my housemates.  We have a community dinner once a week where we eat together and go over any house business.

Thursday, Oct. 30th, 2014 

I have no recollection of Thursday. Ooops.

Friday, Oct. 31st, 2014 

On Fridays, we have a Community Day.  This means that instead of going to work, my roommates, my site coordinator Brandon, and I spend time together as a community.  We do many things such as discuss books, worship, explore vocational discernment, go to events in Mexico and Cascabel, or go hiking.

On Halloween, we went on a beautiful hike through Pima Canyon.  We crossed many streams and admired the cacti.

Halloween hike in Pima Canyon

View of Tucson from Pima Canyon

After Community Day, we went downtown to celebrate Halloween!

Remembering Martin Luther King, Jr.

Happy Martin Luther King Junior Day!

In honor of the faithful activist Martin Luther King, Jr., I would like to share a call and response text I read at Saint Mark's Presbyterian Church yesterday.  I found Martin's quotes to be both touching and timely.  

Our Response in Faith

Call

Response

We remember the conviction of Martin Luther King Jr. that "freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed."

Therefore, let us pray for courage and determination to stand by those who are oppressed. (Silent prayer)

We remember Martin's warning that "a negative peace which is the absence of tension" is less than "a positive peace which is the presence of justice."

Therefore, let us pray and work for justice for all people that we may live in peace with one another. (Silent prayer)

We remember Martin's insight that "injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.  We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality tied in a single garment of destiny.  Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly."

Therefore, let us pray that we may see nothing in isolation, but may know ourselves bound to one another and to all people under heaven. (Silent prayer)

We remember Martin's lament that "the contemporary church is often a weak, ineffectual voice with an uncertain sound.  It is so often that arch-supporter of the status quo.  Far from being disturbed by the presence of the church, the power structure of the average community is consoled by the church's silent and often vocal sanction of things as they are."

Therefore, let us pray that neither this congregation nor any congregation of Christ's people may be silent in the face of wrong, but that we may be disturbers of the status quo when that is God's call to us. (Silent prayer)

We remember Martin's hope that "dark clouds of racial prejudice will soon pass away and the deep fog of misunderstanding will be lifted from our fear-drenched communities and in some not-too-distant tomorrow that radiant stars of love and true community will shine over our great nation with all their scintillating beauty."

Therefore, let us be a people of hope as we work and pray toward a world of peace and justice.  Amen

Assumptions Enforced

Assumptions Enforced
(or not)

I work at BorderLinks leading educational trips or delegations that introduce people to the border and immigration issues.  Groups come from colleges, graduate schools, seminaries, and churches across the country.  During a delegation, participants meet with different immigration stakeholders such as immigrant-led political organizing groups, border patrol, and pastors involved in the sanctuary movement.  In addition, participants learn about topics like NAFTA, Popular Education, border history, and the prison system in interactive workshops led by BorderLinks staff.  Delegations are an intense whirlwind of complex ideas, personal stories, and strong emotions.  Days are often long, challenging, and eye-opening.  Participants leave broken-hearted, inspired, and determined to change our broken immigration system.

I got back from winter vacation ready to lead my second delegation.  I was excited, but nervous as it was the first delegation I would plan completely on my own.  Reading my participants' applications, I felt uneasy.  These students were very different from most people who I know and have grown up around.  Most were from the midwest, studying criminal justice, and hoping to go into law enforcement.  One of the male participants was planning on joining the Border Patrol after graduation.  About half the group had never been outside of the country and most had not lived in multicultural settings.  How would this group react to BorderLinks' liberal ideology?  Would they feel comfortable in this immersive cultural environment?

After meeting the group at the airport, I breathed a sign of relief.  They were great.  When I asked them to help put luggage on the roof rack they immediately organized as a team, volunteering to help.  Driving back to the office, several of the group members talked about football and hunting.  I chuckled, thinking about how different this was from my San Francisco upbringing.  When we got into the office, one of the men asked me if there was something to drink.  I responded, "There's only milk in the fridge."  His face lit up as he said, "I love milk.  I'm from Wisconsin."  I smiled and thought, this'll be fun.

As the week went on I got to know the participants better.  Over meals, we cracked jokes and talked about our personal lives.  Many of my participants work at least one job in addition to going to school full time.  One of the women goes to school, works as a waitress, and works the night shift at a gas station (10 PM - 6 AM).  She only sleeps a few hours from Sunday to Tuesday.  I was amazed by my participants' work ethic and persistence.   Many of them are first-generation college students, forging their own path.

About halfway through the week, the participants stayed with host families in Tucson.  These families are made of immigrants who are active in their community.  BorderLinks routinely organizes home stays so participants can meet people who are directly affected by immigration issues.  As I dropped off the participants, I noticed several were anxious as they had never done a home stay and they did not speak much Spanish.  I assured them that all our home stay families are friendly, welcoming, and have hosted many students before.

The next morning, I got up early to pick up students from home stay houses.  While driving, I got call from the group leader notifying me of "a situation."  The college president had found a student's Tweet (from Twitter) that said they had been "kicked out of their lodging, forced to live with illegals, and not allowed to call Homeland."  My heart sank.  Who wrote this?  Did someone actually want to call Homeland Security on these immigrant families?  Was someone going to call ICE?

Source: Google Images

Comments like this on social media can be vague, unintentional and extremely hurtful.  To me, this Tweet was a threat.  My jaw clenched as I thought about the families who had generously and bravely opened their houses to these students.  Where they now in danger?  Had I put these people in harm's way?  

Hurt and panicked, I began to doubt the trust I had put in these students.  After reconvening, I immediately sat the group down and explained the severity of inflammatory comments on social media.  Also, I described what it would look like if someone called ICE on one of these families.  Imagine flashing lights, crying children, not being able to contact your family for days, detention, an expensive bond, and a chance of being deported, separated from your home and family.  Disappointed and perplexed, I looked out at the group for reactions.  Most participants were shocked and apologetic as this Tweet did not reflect the majority's opinions or home stay experiences.  In fact, the Tweet was not written by someone in the delegation, but by their friend who did not fully understand the context.

Although I still felt violated, I breathed deeply, knowing that the Tweet should not be taken seriously.  Yet, I reflected on why this may have happened.  Many of my participants grew up in environments that have a high respect for cops and believe you should do your best to enforce the law whenever possible.  As many are going into policing, they maybe experienced an internal conflict or cognitive dissonance when living with a person had immigrated illegally.  Using this logic helped me understand my participants' perspectives, but did not shift my opinion that this Tweet was a callous, disrespectful display of entitlement and power.

Although I dutifully follow most laws myself, I try to think critically about the law.  I do not think that government-dictated rules necessarily have higher moral authority than personal or religious values.  Even though laws are powerful, foundational structures that control our lives, they can be changed quickly with a politician's signature.  In the last couple years, huge cultural concepts such as our legislative definition of marriage has changed.  Laws are a flexible, impermanent cultural constructs.

Mike Wilson, a member of the Tohono O'odham tribe in Arizona, is known for his controversial work distributing drinking water for passing migrants on the Tohono O'odham nation.  Although, this is against his tribe's laws, he continues to do it because he believes the God's law is greater than any man-made law.  If we truly loved our neighbor as ourselves, we would give them water.  If we truly loved our neighbor as ourselves, we would help them through deadly terrain.  If we truly loved our neighbor as ourselves, we would let them live in peace with their families.  

Acts 5:29: "But Peter and the apostles answered, 'We must obey God rather than men.'"

Despite this negative moment during my delegation, the rest of the trip went well.  The participants expressed a greater, more complex understanding of immigration policy, undocumented immigrants, and minority-police relations.  One participant wrote, "The most impactful part for me was the home stay...being able to talk one-on-one with them really opened my eyes... This will inform my decisions in my career in law enforcement for my whole life."

I thank this delegation for opening my eyes.  They taught me more about police work, the military, and what it is like to live in a different part of the United States.  I think we both shocked, challenged, and comforted one another.  Most of all, we reminded each other to meet people where they are in their life journey without making hurtful comments or assumptions.  

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