Today was our last full
day in California and it was spent very simply and wholly. On the way
back from our powerful trip to the desert yesterday, we stopped at a the local
panaderĆa near Chicano Park and picked up a couple dozen postres or
pastries. Then, this morning, we met our friend, Nelson, who works as a
day-laborer commonly referred to as jornaleros. Those who are day-laborers
often come to San Diego everyday, with and without papers, to stand outside
Home Depots and other construction wholesales waiting to possibly be picked up
for work. To support their families, they must risk this each and
everyday. As we approached, it was clear how suspicious many of the men
were and they began moving away from our group. We soon realized many of
them were moving away because of nearby camera. The cameraman and
reporter, we soon learned, worked for Dan Rather and were doing a report on
immigration reform. Nelson and Rodrigo, a member of our group, agreed to
wear microphones as we asked Nelson questions and he shared is story to the
camera.
We were all so incredibly
grateful to hear Nelson's story. After loosing his business in Miami, he
was forced to come back since there was no work in his native PerĆŗ, leaving his
wife and daughters behind. Since then, he has never been able to go back, nor
has he seen his family in over 12 years. Nelson went on to share the very
harsh and unjust reality of the life that he and many others live, the
exploitation and abuse they receive. Over 50% of the time, Nelson shared,
the day-laborers are not paid for their work, but are unable to fight back
against their employers because many of them did not have legal papers.
Exploitation of the workers is not a new thing, and many of the other men we
met had stories of abuse, harassment, and cruelty that they had
experienced. To think that this cruelty is going unnoticed and
unaddressed as we speak is a sickening thought, especially since it seems that
very little can be done for the victims, but Nelson explained their desire to
organize and change this pattern of injustice. By organizing, they can
help to ensure the fair and equal payment and treatment of workers, and it is
still a work in progress to do so.
After this experience, we
all shared lunch in Balboa park, a park which spans nearly two miles of parks
and gardens, containing over a dozen museums to visit inside the park
boundaries. Although a very beautiful site to visit, it was clearly a
much more affluent area than where we had just been speaking with Nelson and
other day-laborers. We had a relaxing lunch and heading to are final
site: Southwest Key, a home for children in limbo.
When there are children
that cross the border with a parent or guardian but are caught, their guardian
is often detained awaiting deportation or other legal trial, but the children
cannot always be immediately returned to their home country as they may
have no one to go back to, nor can they legally reside in the U.S. without
legal papers, so they become a child in limbo and live in homes such as
Southwest Key. Many of these children stay for about a month until a
sponsor, another guardian or trusted member of their home community, can be
validated and they can be safely taken home. If a sponsor cannot be found, then
the children are simply sent to other homes such as Southwest Key throughout
the United States until things can be worked out. Some children even pursue
legal cases and so must reside a little longer in order to complete them.
Either way, these children lose much of their identity as they are forced to
stay, unwelcome, in a country that is not their home country. Many have
siblings in other homes across the U.S. while some were with their siblings at
Southwest Key. During our time their, we did arts and crafts and played
soccer with the kids, and it was one of the highlights of our trip, to be able
to be kids and forget some of the borders that exist in our lives that separate
us unnecessarily.
There was one girl that we struck up a conversation with as we sat in
the shade next to the soccer net making pulseras, or bracelets. She began
to ask us about our own homes and the places that we came from. Then she began
to asked something I will never forget. She asked if we saw her home
country and her land as different. She was not asking if we saw her
people or the cultures as different, but the land itself, the earth as
different because it happened to be on one side of a line that we decided to
put down. I honestly could not see any difference between the two, which
also echoed similar feelings of being on the border, at the fence, and looking
through to see a world that was different in many ways and yet the same.
Erica, the young girl, shared these thoughts with me and I will never forget
them, and the most amazing part, was that to this young woman, it was so clear
and obvious that land is land is land and that we are no different because we
were born on one side of a line in the sand. This is so often forgotten,
but I, and all of us really, will try our best to not forget that, but
rather, think of the people on either side first.