"Who's that?" I asked Gary, the driver of the Ford Expedition.
Now we could see him.
He was a 16-year-old kid in hobo rags--old clothes that had been turned black by the soot of railroads and the dirt of boxcars and sleeping on the ground. Slung over his shoulder was a filthy nylon sports bag.
He put his hand out as we drew alongside. Gary tossed him a few pesos through the window, and then we passed on. I saw dark eyebrows, a vacant stare. That evening I kept remembering that kid's blank, dead look.
Here was the face of America's child migration problem.
The number of unaccompanied children crossing the U.S.-Mexico border spiked 90 percent in the past year, with dire predictions of future increases.
Over the last nine months alone, more than 52,000 unaccompanied children have entered the U.S. illegally. They come mostly from the Central American countries of Honduras, Guatemala, and El Salvador, where drugs, gangs, poverty, persecution, unemployment, and violence prevail.
During their months-long migration north, they pass along the spine of Mexico, riding the rails, hitching rides, stowing away on trucks and buses, walking.
Meanwhile, the governors and many residents of American border states have reacted none too hospitably. President Obama and the U.S. Congress have put on hold all actions to address the crisis until after the midterm elections.
But I can’t wait until then to make up my mind. Since seeing that bedraggled kid on the road that day, I’ve been thinking about the issue of child migration, and I’ve been trying to decide which side I’m on.
Do we enforce American immigration laws, stop the kids at the U.S. border, and send them packing? Or do we recognize their basic human rights and provide asylum and perhaps even a pathway to eventual integration into American society if not to citizenship?
Ultimately, only improved economic and security conditions in the children’s countries of origin can stem the flow. But given the chaotic trends in those regions, such improvements are no more than pipe dreams. The kids will continue to have few options.
So, that only leaves us—we Americans who understand that all children have basic human rights, and particularly should always be safeguarded from harm. And if no one else is willing to protect them, then why can’t it be us?
Yes, I know to some of my countrymen we'd be playing right into "their" hands (the lawbreakers, the unaccompanied minors, the parents who in desperation keep sending their kids north for a better life). And we'd only be encouraging more kids to make the dangerous trek for hope of asylum. Suckers, we'd be called. I get it.
But I keep seeing that kid's face, and wondering if he realized what lay ahead for him on the long road. A better life, or anonymous death in a ditch somewhere? Or maybe just a ticket back home? What were the odds of anything good coming out of all his risks and efforts? Was figuring the odds even part of his thinking process? Or was it solely a matter of doing anything to escape from the bloody awful conditions back home, at any cost--and the odds be damned?
Now I want to tell him something reassuring. I want to tell him we are here to help.
We can do this. No one else has our history of doing so much good for the world's dispossessed. Every new wave of immigrants has helped to improve our country’s diversity, resilience, and strength.
So, why not us? Why not now? Let’s be the heroes one more time.
© 2014 Tony DeCrosta
Contact me at adecrosta@gmail.com
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