At the Border

Since we have begun our work as accompaniers, immigration officials have been letting one family unit across the border per day. Yesterday, a man and his toddler daughter crossed. Today, a woman, a mother of 2 grown sons who also traveled with her along with their small families, was let cross. They had hoped that they would be allowed to cross as one unit, but that was not the case. As we left her sons, their wives, and young children at the tent to return through the border gate, they said “quizas mañana.” Maybe tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow they will get to cross. Tomorrow holds so much promise for these travelers. It is the word of hope. Migrants have made long journeys. For this family they traveled from Venezuela to Columbia, and then through Central America to the US border.  For many there is no hope of mañana. A small group of nuns who work on the border facilitate cross plantings at the desert locations where the bodies of migrants are found. A sacred ceremony is held ...

The tender children, so bright, playful, full of innocent wonder, running, skipping, giggling, drinking chocolate, kicking the soccer ball, rolling on the floor, molding the clay, stacking the blocks – They warmed our space of waiting as if it were their living room, as if it were not just a momentary harbor from the chilling storms, but rather a place to claim for our own. We lingered longer than usual, drinking coffee, like a family, sharing this precious moment of ease. On the walk back, the girls held hands with Melody. We hugged and kissed them good night. This morning, dad said they called me their American Papi.

After arriving in Tucson late on January 14th and making our way to our hosts' house, we awoke to the glorious open sky of Arizona. Lisa and Mark live in the Catalina Mountain foothills and have lovely views of the mountains. And the sky, what a sky. Wide and open. Such openness. Coming from the green mountains of North Carolina, the wide open sky above flat  or craggy mountainedterrain seemed so freeing somehow. Lighter, or more buoyant than the heavier, more closed in greenness of the Blue Ridge.  Like many things are possible here. Why not? You can see for miles. What looks close is really far away. European settlers of the US must have had similar reactions as they made their migration across the great expanses of plains and Southwest. They were, like the migrants today, looking toward the expanse as opportunity, as a destination for a future better life. Like today’s migrants coming to the US's southern border, they or their ancestors were also leaving their homelan...

In this book, Francisco Cantú tells the story of his experience as a man of Mexican heritage who grew up in the Southwest, studied international relations,  became a Border Patrol agent for four years, then worked on behalf of an undocumented friend who was refused readmission to the US when he went to visit his dying mother in Mexico. It is a moving book about personal transformation amidst the truly searing social and political realities of the borderlands. Cantú is a very good reporter and first-person storyteller and doesn't hesitate to reveal his own emotions and dreams. I was riveted.

Our new friend the abuela crossed over to the US early this morning. Yesterday her younger son and his wife and child were admitted separately and are now in the clutches of the customs system. Now it’s her turn. Soon, her oldest son and his wife and child will be taken across. We won’t hear from them after they go, so we can only hope things work out well for them. But the odds are not good. What happens next is that they get taken in custody to Tucson where they apply for asylum. Then they are brought back to Mexico where they must wait until their hearing for asylum. They aren’t brought back to Agua Prieta, though. Likely they will all be dropped off in Nogales, MX and hopefully all of the family will get back together there in the near future. But, then again, they may not all be taken there. We just don’t know. This Trump policy of putting people back into harm’s way in Mexico after they have applied for asylum is called the Migrant Protection Program, aka the ...

Wed, Jan 15 On the Job It’s the first day and we got right to work. Jack took us across the border to the Migrant Resource Center and we immediately did two accompaniments. First, we escorted one young man from the tent on the border wall to our center, and then a young man and his little girl (under two years old). The walk doesn’t take even five minutes, but the streets are dangerous for these migrants. Likely to be hanging around are men who are prone to kidnap a migrant for the sake of getting a ransom from his or her family. Of course, the danger is even greater for women who are at risk of also being raped. We hope to make migrants safer with our presence. On the walks today, I found myself being very alert, checking out the men on the streets, trying to assess how trustworthy they were. Jack says we should probably just be suspicious of everyone. It’s an uncomfortable feeling. We’re like a little team of nonviolent bodyguards on guard against a...

Shipwrecked The world is on the move On board are more shipwrecked souls than successful seafarers Thousands of desperate people die en route, before they can complete the crossing to the promised land, where even the poor are rich and everyone lives in Hollywood. The illusions of any who manage to arrive do not last long. Eduardo Galeano World Refugee Day, June 20, 2019: An unprecedented 70.8 million people have been forcibly displaced worldwide, and 37,000 people are forced to flee their homes every day due to conflict or persecution. ... Or because climate change has meant that they have no food where they live. Or maybe there is no drinkable water because it's been fouled by mining companies, or just dried up. Maybe they lost their land because they've been pushed out by the voracious grab of capitalists and corrupt governments and banks who want to take down the trees or put in plantations of cash crops, or have a carbon tax credit. Or maybe, in the midst of ...