On May 29,
Dora * was pulled over by the police in a routine traffic stop in Albany, New
York. Never did she imagine that in spite of the fact that she has a valid work
permit, no criminal record and is a law abiding taxpayer that she would that
evening be sent to jail. Furthermore,
she would be separated from her two children who had traveling with her in the
car.
Her
immigration status was “pending” and she regularly reported to an immigration
office in Buffalo. Maybe it was her accent or the fact that she recently missed one appointment, the policeman called ICE (the US Immigration
and Customs Enforcement) and they sent her to the county jail first,
then to a detention center.
For 48
hours, she could not make contact with anyone –not her mother, not a lawyer, no
one. Her mother, Mary*, who is
advocating for her says: “They can ship you anywhere they want because it is
federal (jurisdiction); You have no
access to your relatives.”
And in fact,
her daughter, Dora, was not allowed phone calls for the first three days of her
detention. Fortunately, she had been able to call an aunt who came and picked up her kids, but they too had no contact with their
mother for several days since the beginning of this incident. Their
grandmother is now doing everything she can to unify this family. I said it
before in a previous post," #Where are the children", and I will say it again.
This is not
who we are.
I am a US
citizen and have been for many years. I am also an immigrant. I
came to New York City from Jamaica when I was 12 with my mother and my sixteen year old
brother. We came
here at a time when things were very difficult in Jamaica. Many people were
leaving, not necessarily because they wanted to, but because things were very
difficult politically and economically too. We came legally and stayed here
legally though our status was for many years “in progress” as my mother’s place
of employment was our sponsor.
I remember our
first days here. I was wide-eyed at this
place called New York City. The big buildings, the bright lights, the hustle
and bustle on the streets- a far cry from my native Jamaica yet fascinating in
a different way. I remember I hadn’t wanted to leave Jamaica. I had just completed my first year
of secondary school and was looking forward to the next. That next year, however, would be spent first
with extended family, then second with our sponsor in these unfamiliar surroundings.
The one
thing that kept me going was my family.
My mother and brother were “home,” and so I could reason that I hadn’t
really left home. I brought home with me.
It is in this context that I cannot imagine what it would have been like
to have been separated from the only two people who made a big city less daunting.
Thankfully,
I did not have to imagine such things because up until a few weeks ago, the
policy regarding immigrants was always to keep families together. Immigration was a civil matter, not a
criminal one. Previously, families who
crossed the border seeking asylum, for example, were allowed to stay together
in shelters until final decisions were made regarding their status.
That does
not mean that the system is not broken. That does not mean that urgent
change is not needed. Certainly, lawmakers on both sides of the aisle have been
talking about this for a long time, but sadly, it has been mostly talk. Immigration reform has not happened.
In that void
has arisen these knee jerk reactions which have led us to family separations –
whether it is DACA kids who were brought here by their parents as children, those
fleeing violence and seeking asylum at the border or even those immigrants who
have legal rights to be here but are wading through the process like Dora.
As a
citizen, I am proud of the fact that in the face of an often confusing and burdensome
situation, prior administrations, both Democrat and Republican, did their best
NOT to separate children from their parents.
They worked towards the most humane solutions, albeit stop -gap
solutions.
As a result,
children and families were not traumatized.
Those who developed previous policies remembered that as a country we
have championed human rights abroad and thus have drawn lines in the sand
regarding certain actions.
Because that
is NOT who we are.
It may have
been who we were as I shared in my book, The Weeping Time, which documented the harsh and devastating reality of
antebellum slave auctions, but it is not who we are now and that is what matters. I truly believe that one day America could be remembered not so much for its computers or
its robots or its driverless cars, but for its commitment to human rights. It is our choice.
Dora and her
two children deserve to stay together. Whatever
is decided about their future, it is a future which they must be allowed to face
together. That is the only humane thing
to do from any standpoint, but particularly from the standpoint of a nation
that has longed prided itself as a champion of human rights.
*Actual
names are not used but if anyone is in a position to help this family, please
send me an email at freedomlives4@yahoo.com
Anne C. Bailey
Author of The Weeping Time: Memory and the Largest Slave Auction in American History (Cambridge University Press, 2017)
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