On Amnesty and Immigration

I have heard my grandparents and countless aunts and uncles tell about their feelings when the Statue of Liberty first came into view on the horizon as the boats that brought them to the new world and their new lives steamed toward New York and the future. I am unabashedly, unapologetically pro-immigrant. I overtly supported the Sanctuary Movement to protect Central American refugees in the ‘80’s when we lived in Tucson. When we lived in California, I joined groups that worked for immigrant farm-workers rights, education for their (often American-born) children, and decent housing. After Tom retired and we moved to his hometown of Kansas City, the first job I got when we landed here was at a community health clinic that served refugee populations that have relocated here through community agencies.
My children attended and graduated from Bishop Ward High School in Kansas City, Kansas. Central Avenue in KCK has undergone a revival as Mexican immigrants have moved into the area that was settled by Eastern European Catholics a century ago. Central Avenue now bustles and thrives as shops open and commerce returns. Older homes are being bought and restored. Enrollment is up in the Catholic schools in the area. It is an amazing transformation to witness.


I think that immigrants are the truest Americans in most cases, because they have come from points far flung because of an ideal. Because of what America means to them, they are willing to pull up roots, leave everything and everyone they know and come here, where they often times don’t speak the language, have no social network, but yet they come, because of an ideal.
Ideals are powerful. Some of the most powerful things on earth, they drive men to do, not just dream. They inspire action, not just words. This ideal that came to be a mere four centuries ago that grew up to become America still inspires. It still inspires the same people it always has – those who want it and will take the plunge, face the unknown; more than those born to it, those with noblesse oblige.


People are willing to risk their lives to come here. They die in sweltering trailers and rail cars coming from Mexico. They stow away in shipping containers for weeks to steam surreptitiously into American ports and a new life. They walk across miles of scorching desert and risk snakebite, dehydration, and death. They leave their homes in rickety overloaded boats and risk death at sea to make a moonlight run from Haiti, Cuba, the Dominican Republic – to Florida and freedom. They risk death for an ideal. These are not people who will roll over and take a kicking in the teeth.


These are people who faced death, in many instances, just to come here. And I turn on my T.V. and see their children, filling the streets of America, protesting the draconian immigration bill that would directly affect so many uniquely American lives, and my heart swells with pride. These kids are all right. They come from two cultures, and all one has to do is turn on a T.V. and watch the news a few nights. You will see the streets of a major city somewhere in the world, often it’s Latin American, filled with protesting youths.


Now, many Americans seemed taken aback that these teens are taking to the streets of America. Protesting an unjust law that would irreparably harm their lives. Maybe if you can’t understand the motives of these teenagers; you have too much and take it for granted. These young people are protesting to hang on to what little they have. And they are one short generation removed from parts of the world where the citizens have no qualms about taking to the streets. Be proud of these kids. Embrace them and treasure them. They bring energy and vitality to infuse into our society, which desperately needs it. We have been sedated with the illusion of plenty. We need to wake up, check the time, and the version of reality we ascribe to if these kids look at all adversarial in our eyes. They are our future as surely as they are the future of their own parents and their own ethnic group.