Sometimes things can get so nutty! A couple of years ago our city council passed an ordinance that placed a Federal ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) agent in our city jail. So now anyone who is picked up by the police is screened by an ICE agent. You don't have to be convicted or guilty of anything, just brought in for whatever reason and you are screened for documentation.
A couple months back a friend of mine refused to sleep with her abusive ex-husband when he brought the rent over. He got angry. She got scared and threw a plate at him. When the police got there he was bleeding and she wasn't so they took her away as the aggressor. It didn't seem to matter that he had a history of domestic violence. So my friend spent the night in jail. There were no charges brought against her and the case was dropped.
Except then she was on an immigration hold after having been processed through our city jail. So now she is in the process of being deported, in which case her three American citizen children will be left in the custody of their abusive father or child protective services.
That all seems pretty straight forward and some would even say it is fair. Technically, the law played out (whether or not it is a just law is another question). Here's where it gets nutty...
While our team is trying to get an immigration lawyer on the case I get a phone call from one of our city council members who was a strong proponent of placing the ICE agent in the jail. She is calling to say that she would like to recognize our organization at the next city council meeting with a Proclamation of our valuable community work.
The thing is that the woman in the process of being deported is the main force behind our "valuable community work." She rallied the neighbors to open the community center. She is the one who pulls people together to support a neighbor in need. She is the main idea woman behind our community seminars and programs.
So I went to the city council meeting to receive an award for my friend's work in the community that she is simultaneously being removed from by the same council's policy.
I don't know whether to laugh or scream my head off. Isn't it confusing to celebrate one's work on one hand and then condemn them on the other? It's too nutty. It's too real.
We are excited to invite you to CLUE Orange County's Intensive 2 Day Faith-Rooted Advocacy Training: Friday, May 13 from 6:00pm to 9:00pm and Saturday, May 14 from 9:00am to 3:00pm. Location is TBD. Will be in Central/South Orange County. Please RSVP by filling out the form below no later than Monday, May 9, 2011. Registration fee of $30 per person can be mailed to 309 N Rampart, Ste. A, Orange, CA 92868 Attn: CLUE OC. Please note: FRO training on the memo line or make your payment at the door via cash/check. Thank you.
What do I breathe that others don’t? What does my heart pump that doesn’t run in the veins of others? What is my flesh made of that makes it illegal and almost inferior to the “citizens” of this country? Until this day, I have not discovered any biological explanations that justify the social displacement that I encounter in every day society. At the age of four years I left the country that gave me a nationality, a language and a home. Not knowing what our positions in life would look like, my parents had no option but to make their American dream, a car garage, which came to be our new home. As if risking their lives was not enough to provide me with a better future, my parents’ long days of intense labor acted as second catalyst in emphasizing the importance of pursuing a higher education. In spring of 2006, I was accepted to one of the most competitive institutions in the west, the University of California, Los Angeles.
Pursuing an educational career as an undocumented student in higher education was like jumping from a diving board into a pool without knowing if water was present. Coming in as a freshman I did not know whether I was going to be able accomplish the dream that I had been working towards since I first stepped into this country. Tuition was expensive. I did not have access to any type of job; the scholarships that I was eligible for I was not able to apply for because I did not have a 9 digit number that would allow me to take advantage of such opportunity. Moreover, the 36 thousand dollars a year that my parents make cumulatively would not meet the means of supporting a family of six and paying the education of their first college graduate. Since the resources where few, I had to look for private scholarships that did not required a social security and people who were willing to provide a listening ear and sometimes food and shelter. Though sleeping on the floor, not having enough food for the week and working extensively to pay for tuition was emotionally painful, having to leave the college campus without a Bachelors degree would have destroyed the only part of my identity that has not been defined by laws and societal standards. Therefore, the pain that I have endured has served as a self-realization factor that has made me aware of the need for educational policy that would (1) eradicate laws which create a glass ceiling to the achievement level of children in schools and (2) provide a pathway for postsecondary educational success for marginalized communities.
As a double major Political Science and Chicana/o Studies student with an emphasis on Education Studies Minor, I was able to link both my circumstance and my educational background as a resource to reframe policy and curriculum in education. During my 3 years of undergraduate schooling at UCLA, I directed two mentoring/ tutoring programs, one of which I helped establish at a local middle school. As a director, tutor and research analyst, I was able to contrive a curriculum that supplemented the students learning abilities as oppose to imposing one that did not have any association to the student’s character, social circumstance, or academic potentials. Moreover, by tutoring and mentoring students from grades K-9 twice a week for a period of 3 years, I was able to critically synthesize the disadvantages that are imposed by our educational system. One of these disadvantages is the poor budgeting crisis that not only affects our students, but also our educators. Hence, to get a better understanding of the impact that is created when an educator’s basic resources are taken away, during the 2008-09 academic year, I conducted a two quarter research through Educators for Tomorrow, a UCLA undergraduate research program. The many hours that I spent interviewing school administrators and teachers, as well as attending a series of United Teachers of Los Angeles campaign conferences, and measuring the academic performance of the 40 elementary students in Projecting Minds (Nora Sterry’s Elementary tutoring program) helped me discover my passion for educational policy making and the need to reconstruct societal frameworks that obstruct people from learning and achieving at their highest potential.
In spring of this current year, I was accepted to Columbia University’s masters program in Education Policy. Yet, because of my immigration status it is almost impossible to pursue this dream since I don’t have the resources to finance my education. Despite my vision for a better America and more than seventeen (17) years of living in this country, I have not been given the opportunity to become fully integrated as a citizen of this country. As a result, I cannot fully take use of the resources that would enable me to strengthen the educational systems that are hindering the potential of America’s respective leaders. Hence, it is of great significance that you vocalize the voice that many of us don’t have to advocate for Immigration Reform and the Federal DREAM ACT. The more time that we wait for this change to occur, the more damaged that is being done to the future of this country. Meanwhile, I will continue to hope and pray for a better tomorrow….a tomorrow that does not obstruct my liberties as a human or imprisons me like a criminal.
Sincerely,
Tony Pardo*
I held a one week old baby boy tonight. He is perfectly beautiful and I was instantly in love. He’s just a little guy, weighing in at just over 6 pounds. He has all this hair and likes to pucker his big lips. His name is JJ and he is what many sadly refer to as an “anchor baby”.
You see, his mother is a 15 year old girl from Central America who upon finding out she was pregnant decided to make the dangerous journey to the
As I was holding JJ I thought about how innocent he is. I thought about how happy he must make Jesus, laying there in his purest form, untouched by the darkness of the world. I thought about what it will be like for him to grow up and the hardships he will surely face being a child of an immigrant.
Then I thought about the new life he must bring to his mom. This young girl comes from a place infested with violence, poverty and corruption. She has lived more life and seen more devastation in her 15 years than most do in a lifetime.
I hate that many in our country (including far too many in our Church) will never see past the law breaking act of crossing the border to have her baby. I hate that there will be people who think she is manipulative, selfish and wants nothing more than to live off the benefits of having an American Citizen child. Many things will be assumed about her while very few people actually try to get to know her. I hate that many will not see her innocence or her pure intent. I hate that many will not realize how selfless she actually is. I hate that her heroic act of traveling 2000 miles, alone and pregnant, just so that her baby won’t have to worry about being kidnapped and trafficked by the gangs or know what it feels like to slowly starve to death, will go unnoticed.
I don’t want to suggest that anyone who is pregnant should be able to come here and I don’t mean to over emotionalize our current Immigration situation. I also don't want to perpetuate the idea that it is common for immigrants to come unlawfully just to give birth to so called "anchor babies": in reality, 91& of undocumented immigrants who give birth in the U.S. have already been present in the U.S. for more than two years. I simply want to remind us that there are beating hearts behind this issue. There are people like JJ and his mom who want nothing more than to live a life of dignity. I want us to ask ourselves the difficult questions. I want us to see JJ and his mom and think about what it would look like to love them well. I want us to think about the millions more who were not as lucky as JJ. I want us to consider our part in loving those who have crossed our borders while figuring out our role in the transformation that needs to happen in the places people are coming from. This issue calls for more than new policy; it calls for an army of Christians who are ready to fight poverty and corruption with peace and love. As believers, I don’t think we can complain about the drain JJ and his mom might be on our economy while we do nothing to address the reasons they are here in the first place.
Sometimes I feel hopeless because I know we have such a long way to go.
But then I remember who our God is.
I remember that when Jesus looks at JJ and his mom, He does not see an illegal immigrant and her anchor baby. He sees His son and daughter who He loves with all His heart and who He was willing to die for. I can’t help but hope for the kind of revolution that would occur if we were all more like Christ in this way.
