Who is my neighbor?

A couple of weeks ago, when I heard about the work-place raids conducted by Immigration and Customs Enforcement, I was immediately heart-broken.  It’s not that I am unaware of the complications surrounding the situation, before, during, or after the raids.  Actually, my experiences in ministry have made me very aware of some of the complicating factors.

Fifteen years ago, I worked with undocumented families, most of them from Guatemala (indigenous peoples who spoke neither English nor Spanish).  I was a church and community liaison in Scott County, appointed by the United Methodist Church.  I taught English as a Second Language to adult migrant workers and helped with grant projects to bring goods and services to children. Most of the families I worked with were employed by local chicken processing plants, the very same as the ones in the news this week.  From observation and testimony, it was a gross job.  Hard, hard work.  What was more difficult were the circumstances by which many of these families arrived to work.  Families were basically “recruited”, and “sold” these positions: they paid or became indebted to “coyotes” who carried them over the border (and who knows how terrifying that journey was with small children…it wasn’t a Delta flight and a chartered bus to their pre-arranged hotel…that’s how I travel when I visit or work in other countries). They were smuggled.  They were brought to a housing complex or trailer park that was in deplorable shape but ignored because the right people had been paid to look the other way.  They were told to be outside before dawn and to crowd into a non-descript van and someone would tell them how to get their kid in school and where their spouse could find food. But who knows if that happened?  Eventually someone in the same situation, but who had been there longer would start to explain “the ropes.”  Think you’ve been lied to? You are correct, but you have no recourse.  You thought you were paying your coyote to get the right papers, do the right thing, secure a job and housing.  But your coyote lied, stole your money, disappeared and left you undocumented and vulnerable.  Your job conditions are appalling, but you can’t stop working because your rent and grocery tab are connected to your paycheck.  You can’t complain to anyone because it has now occurred to you that the documents you purchased are fabricated or illegal.  You are stuck.  So, you get up, go to work, feed your family, send your kids to school. 

When these migrant workers would finally find our offices and ask for help, we had to break the news that to get appropriate documents is nearly impossible.  The expense alone is unfathomable.  But also, because they were guilty of a crime (that their coyote committed on their behalf) they will not be allowed to enter the process of applying for citizenship without serious penalty and/or significant fines.  And it would dawn on them: I’m stuck.  What they thought was a good opportunity to save their family from terrible situations back home has become a new hellish prison of their own making.

These were some of the stories I encountered as I taught English.  We worked on grammar and spelling, but we also worked on forms and resumes and translating papers sent home by teachers and doctors and lawyers.  It was survival English.  Today I tutor high school kids in the EL department.  They are the same age as my kids.  The stories aren’t very different.  I spoke with a friend, a young woman who immigrated here as a child from Central America and works as a social worker.  She confirmed that my experiences are hers as well.She said, “you haven’t even discussed the PTSD these kids deal with after such a frightening trip…leaving their homeland, navigating a new culture and school with a language barrier, sensing that your parents live in a high level of anxiety.  And then being told you can’t go home after school because your parents have been detained.  We can all imagine how terrified a child would be.”

Have these adults broken our laws? Yes.  Are they living and working in the US illegally?  Yes.  Should these undocumented workers have known better, done better?  Maybe…maybe not.  Have you ever traveled to another country that does not speak your language? Did you trust your travel agent or country host?  When he or she said, “I have your tickets, your admission papers, your reservations, etc”, did you trust him/her?  When your host did things on your behalf with your name and your money, did you trust that “that’s just how they do things?”  I have.  I have watched a host bribe rifle-toting men with money intended for mission projects just so our bus could cross a bridge.  I have watched a host pay off a driver with money I was taking to the bank to exchange because we got in a fender bender.  I have been told that the hotel manager has our documents and will tell us when our transportation arrives.  And I’ve trusted that these people who I’ve never met and to whom I’ve paid thousands of dollars will be honest with me, will have my best intentions in mind.  Of course, I am also an educated traveler.  I know to carry my US passport which gives me a great deal of power and leverage.  I have never been detained longer than it took to pay off the thugs that boarded our bus.  But I have been afraid, and I have wondered what I would do if I were suddenly abandoned, penniless and without proper documents to prove who I am.  Those were long moments.  I can’t imagine waking up to that situation every day of my life for months, watching my children grow in this place where none of us are free.  A prison of my own making.

I learned during my time in Scott County that the workers with stolen or faked SSN’s actually paid taxes.  Or at least taxes and social security are taken from their checks like every other documented employee.  They are taxpayers.  They just can’t access all the benefits that other taxpayers can because they lack other proper and legal documents.  And because they understand their illegal situation, they are afraid to call safety authorities or go to the hospital except in extreme emergencies.  They take care of one another, adopting practices that are more native to their home country…which further alienates them.  What I learned was that these men and women contributed to society.  They worked hard.  They avoided trouble. It is my opinion that the workers of Scott County processing plants are not a threat to the citizens of Scott County.  By many, they are embraced as residents of the community, part of the fabric. When I lived there, they were my friends.  We worshiped and ate together.  My kids played in their homes while I worked in their church.  They trusted me with their fears, and I trusted them with my life.  My friends and colleagues that are still there demonstrated this fabric as they set aside what was convenient or “the letter of law” in favor of long days and nights caring for children, raising money to pay rent and utilities, and collecting food and medical needs for their neighbors.  The undocumented workers that were detained this week weren’t pushing drugs on the corner, panhandling, or sitting in homeless shelters or police stations or emergency rooms “stealing services.”  They were at work.  They were being tax-paying productive community participants while their children attended schools that their tax dollars helped support.  It wasn’t drug houses or prisons or even trailer parks the authorities raided.  It was a place of employment.  They were at work. But now they can’t work. Now they are dealing with the reality of no money to pay rent, buy food, or take care of the kids. 

But why am I just now saying something? The story has almost faded from the 24 hour wash and spin cycle of our news.  And that’s part of it.  Because things that are important are worth repeating.  But I also wanted to hear different sides of the story.  Regardless of the outcomes 24-48 hours later, that was a scary day.  And for many, the nightmares (real and perceived) continue.  I talked to citizens of the community, people who have lived and worked around there for decades.  They all know that something needs to be different, but none of them seemed sure that this was the best solution.  Our current system of things “has lent itself to human exploitation, pure and simple.”  And that’s not ok. That is a failure of the “American Dream.”  It is a failure of just living as a human.  I also talked to families for whom one or both spouses immigrated here through legal channels.  They expressed frustration with people who try to take short-cuts.  They recalled how long, how difficult, and how expensive the process is.  But they always circled back to say, “but, I get it.  Sometimes you take desperate measures because the situation is desperate.  I wish there was a better way.”  They hope for reforms that include programs we have all discussed before: worker visas with time constraints…student visas for kids who were brought here very young…humanitarian allowances for individuals with children who are natural-born citizens, who have been contributing to society, and who have otherwise no criminal background.  “Or,” suggested one international friend, “at least don’t lock them up in cages.  Just take them home.  Why are we treating children like criminals and guarding them with the elite forces of the US military?  Just take them home.”  But mostly I am saying something because I have a voice to say something.  I know that people with whom I have a lot in common will disagree with me.  I know that it is demeaning to some very smart people to just dismiss this story with a quick scourging.  I don’t like conflict, and I don’t want to be demeaning.  But I also don’t want to be silent when I should have spoken up for those without voices.

But the story will go on...for the communities who lost neighbors, and for the families who are losing their homes.  There are glimpses of hope and good will amidst stories of fear and heart break.  I hope to hear stories of ICE tracking down and prosecuting coyotes who traffic humans across the border.  I hope to hear stories of government agents busting hackers who steal SSN information and sell them to profiteers.  Maybe a better ending is that after the Church responds to the humanitarian crisis created by this action, we begin to have productive conversations about how we create immigration legislation that addresses the reality of numerous undocumented people living and working and paying taxes in our borders. Maybe we continue to learn how to extend radical hospitality, express love and not hate, and respond with kindness rather than react with fear.  Every Sunday I share communion with my congregation and we pray together words along the lines of, “we have failed to be an obedient church, we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves, we have not heard the cry of the needy…free us for joyful obedience…make us one with Christ, one with each other, and one in ministry to all the world.” And the past few weeks, it is the faces of my EL students that I see as I pray. Maybe our story is, we continue to learn to be neighbors. Let it be so.