History Will Not Look Kindly Upon Us : The Refugee Children

The reaction of anti-immigration "activists" along the United States/Mexico border during the past few weeks has been, to put it bluntly, disgusting and shameful.  Of course, I am completely in favor of people within our country being able to voice their opinions publicly through protest.  However, it appears to me that these so-called protesters are attempting to do little but inspire terror in the women and children who have been flooding across the borders from Honduras, El Salvador, and Guatemala.  If they were truly protesting to make their opinions known in the interest of changing our policies, would they not be protesting in Washington DC or in the capitals of their respective states (California, Texas, etc.)?  Because those are the locations where individuals with the power to pass legislation that would impact this situation (one way or another) reside.  Would it not then make sense to take your message there?  Except inspiring change in a civil manner, through our legislative process, does not appear to be their true intent.  No, their goal, as demonstrated by the words they've spoken, the signs they carry, their clear hostility, and the location of their protestations, is to harass and intimidate the immigrants themselves...to "put them in their place," and let them know that they are unwanted.

Yes...clearly a thoughtful movement for change. 

The embarrassing actions of the protesters themselves is, of course, only part of a much larger problem surrounding this issue.  It is clear to anyone who has conducted even a rudimentary inquiry into the crisis at the border that many of the people who are currently entering the country, including a large number of unaccompanied minors, are doing so because they are in danger of being killed, persecuted, or forcibly recruited into violent drug gangs if they remain in their home countries.  This is a tragic situation.  Even those who are opposed to the immigrants being allowed to remain within the United States (well, those who attempt to appear civilized, not the protesters themselves) profess sympathy for what they have gone through and argue that "something" must be done.

Quite frankly, in this particular instance, sympathy is not sufficient.  Partially because of the fact that, as was so succinctly explained in this recent article on the Huffington Post  policies enacted within the United States are largely responsible for the current situation in Honduras, El Salvador, and Guatemala.  Our attempts to control the internal politics of these countries, going back to the Cold War, coupled with the failed policies of the "war on drugs" that have also destroyed any semblance of "justice" within our own legal system, has completely destabilized much of Latin America.  Perhaps even more shockingly (for most Americans who have no clue about what happens beyond our borders) these very gangs are being run by individuals who honed their skills within gangs in US cities!  Given our strong complicity in creating the conditions that these suffering women and children are fleeing from, it seems only fair to argue that we are (at least partially) responsible for ensuring that they are protected in some manner.

Furthermore, there is no justification for the United States - the wealthiest country in the world - claiming that we cannot afford to offer asylum to refugees who have turned up on our doorstep.  Especially given that we have a history of putting pressure on other nations to not only welcome refugees into their countries, but to provide those refugees with assistance in the forms of food, shelter, and medical treatment.  How can we petition countries like Pakistan, Turkey, and Jordan to support refugees when we are seemingly unwilling to do so ourselves?

This is, of course, sadly, not the only time the United States has found itself in this type of situation.  We (should) all remember the failure of the United States during the late 1930s and 1940s to provide refuge to Jewish men, women, and children fleeing repression, persecution, and eventually execution, in both Nazi Germany and the occupied territories of Europe.  President Franklin Delano Roosevelt's silence in reaction to the petition of the passengers on the St. Louis for asylum has long been viewed as a stain on the reputation of one of the great leaders of the war years.  Much like today, the US pressured neighboring and allied countries, particularly Cuba, to welcome Jewish refugees in large numbers, while refusing to do so themselves, due to "economic hardship" and a lack of jobs and housing.  Hmmm....sounds familiar doesn't it? Of course, Cuba saw no reason to accept refugees when so wealthy and massive a country as the United States would not.  Similarly, today, it seems unlikely that other nations will look at our actions and think anything other than "well, if the US, such a wealthy and powerful country, refuses to protect people fleeing oppression, why should we"?

Unfortunately, the consequences to the real people in these situations is all too predictable. 

History will certainly judge us by our actions at this moment in time.  Will we rise to the challenge, and prove to the world that we do indeed believe in the values we claim to hold, and that we demand the rest of the world live up to?  Or will we refuse to protect those whose lives are at risk, largely because of actions taken by people within this country over the past fifty years?  How do we want to be viewed by the world?  By future generations?  As the kind of people who will take action in support of those in need?  Or as xenophobic, racist, selfish, ignorant people, too concerned with maintaining our own power to feel any sense of empathy for those who are merely searching for the kind of life we all currently enjoy?  Because I assure you, if we do not act quickly and decisively to help these refugees, history will not look kindly upon us.

Which side of history do you want to be on?

Weekend? What is a Weekend?

Starting on Monday, July 7th, I will be teaching three two-hour block sessions a day at a local high school. That's right.  Two hours of US History, followed by two hours of Participation in Government, followed by two hours of Economics...with no breaks.  For those of you who have never taught or worked in a capacity that involves a lot of public speaking, and are thinking "so, I always work for MORE than six hours straight...harrumph," just imagine managing a group of twenty-five teenagers for six hours straight.  (My voice!  My poor voice!)  Then come and speak to me.  But I digress.

I am very excited to be teaching these courses, as I am (obviously) highly invested in the youth of America becoming engaged and informed citizens.  However, while I have taught a number of content areas in the past (global studies, general social studies, cultural anthropology, sociology, archaeology, etc.) this is my first time teaching US, Econ, and P.I.G.  What this means, again for the non teachers out there, is that I was going to have to do a hell of a lot of preparation prior to the beginning of summer school!  I had absolutely no materials six weeks ago - no notes, no pictures, no primary source readings, no assignments, no maps, no videos...you get the idea.  The past month and a half has been a roller coaster ride for me.  Almost every free moment has been devoted to planning.  I am pretty sure I had a birthday in there somewhere back at the beginning of June, and I consciously am aware that I attended my father's wedding a couple of weeks ago, but it is all a blur, because I was even thinking about a particular lesson during the reception itself.  It has gotten to the point where I have only been sleeping about four hours a night (if I am lucky) because I stay awake until two a.m. working, and then cannot relax because of the guilt I feel over the fact that I did not accomplish as much as I thought that I should.  Obscene, I know.

All of this culminated in a moment of horrified clarity for me today when I took an hour off from planning to head down to the school and go over some of the materials that I had sent out to the school's print shop for copying.  When I arrived, I was very displeased to discover that some of my materials that I had requested be available by June 28th had still not been delivered, nor had an entire box worth of copies I had requested be available by Monday, July 7th.  I began to feel extremely stressed, worrying about whether or not my materials would be delivered in time for the class meetings in which they were intended to be utilized.  I was irritated and wanted to know why this had happened (although I tried to remain calm and collected).  That is when the Assistant Principle, who is in charge of operations this summer, informed me that the employees who work at the print center left for vacation after the end of the regular school year and would not be returning until Monday.

My immediate reaction was one of confusion.  Vacation?  Who has a vacation?  That was quickly followed by as a pathetic round of self-pity coupled with a dose of what I can only describe as some form of martyr complex.  I was furious.  Here I was working around the clock to prepare for summer school - not having time for sleep, being unable to go out with my husband for my birthday, missing family gatherings - and all of my work might be for nothing?  My goal of being prepared might be thwarted, I might be stuck scrambling, because other people decided to take a vacation the week before summer school started?!  All of this after I spent the last semester working 60-70 hour weeks without a vacation myself?  I am embarrassed to admit that I felt angry at the print shop workers.  Why couldn't they wait until after summer school had begun to take a vacation?  Why could they not stagger their vacations so that at least one person was working all year long, ensuring that copies were available?  What kind of insanity is this???

It was not until I had calmed down enough to think rationally again that I realized the only insanity in this situation was coming from me.  How warped has my way of thinking become that instead of lamenting my own sad lack of leisure time - the consequence of a society that pushes us to work until we drop, lest we risk being labeled as lazy or unworthy of our precious jobs - that I was allowing myself to think that other people did not deserve theirs?  This form of thinking comes out of the same type of "divide and conquer" ideology that convinces private sector employees to hate unions because they have pensions and benefits, rather than their employers, who refuse to provide the same basic, fair services to them.

Of course, this mind-set did not appear overnight.  It is the culmination of years of Americans being pushed to work harder and harder for less and less, all with the knowledge that their superiors are looking over their shoulders, implying that those who seem less committed to the job are expendable.  Certainly we are all aware (or at least have been told) that there are plenty of people out there who would LOVE the chance to take our place - that would kill for the opportunity to work 60 hours a week and go years without a real vacation, if that meant they had access to a job with prestige and a reliable income.  For me, this was the result of years of graduate school - perhaps the most competitive, time consuming, soul sucking form of "employment" that exists, followed by a couple of years in the field of secondary and higher education.  That sort of environment, one that is similar to the environments lived in by Americans in many other areas of work (medicine, law, media, corporate, etc.) has imbued in me a set of values and norms that are hard to shake.  These norms include:

1) Never refuse an opportunity for advancement.  And I mean NEVER - even if it means giving up the little free time you already have.  Last semester I enrolled in four on-line courses and attended weekend professional development seminars, despite being so exhausted that I was suffering from a string of migraine headaches, because I thought it would make me look committed to my current institution, and that commitment might provide me with opportunities for advancement.  Which, of course, it did!  Did that justify the time I lost and the cost to my health?  I am still conflicted over this.

2) Do not let anyone think you are replaceable.  Taking time off for illness or family problems can be dangerous, let alone going on vacation, because when you do such a thing, someone has to fill in for you.  What happens if that person proves to be equally capable?  Or worse, they're nowhere near as capable as you, but their confidence and charm convinces your boss that they are?

3) You should always be "on the job."  I do not remember what it is like to really have a "weekend."  For me, the "weekend" is little more than an opportunity to do more research, planning, and grading from the comfort of my home, instead of at school.  The best part of the "weekend" is that I do not have to waste time commuting!  The very idea that I could leave work on Friday and not work or, perish the thought, do something else with my time - like visit long suffering friends and family members, who must think I have become some sort of crazed hermit, only reachable through my fifth appendage, my laptop - is so unthinkable that I am becoming anxious right now while I am typing!

And then of course...there is this...

All of these norms are the consequences of larger societal trends in identity formation.  Our society, quite frankly, pushes us to identify with our work.  Don't believe me?  Try this little experiment next time you have the opportunity.  When you are in a group of people meeting for the first time, ask them all to "tell me something about yourself."  Or, if you do not want to deal with collecting people in "groups," (understandably) then just listen to what people generally say upon introducing themselves to you.  Think about how you would describe yourself.  Heck, even think about how people are introduced on nightly news programs, or game shows like Jeopardy!  The first way we present ourselves to others is through what we do for work.  Not our family structure, not our religious beliefs or systems of morality, certainly not what we enjoy doing for "fun" or leisure - our career is our number one identifying marker.

This may seem insignificant but it does have larger implications.  If we see ourselves as our job, well then we are going to be very protective of that job aren't we?  We are going to feel not just external, but also internal pressure, to excel in our work, in order to prove that we are worthwhile as human beings and members of our society. We are going to give all of ourselves to our work at the expense of other arenas of life that surely are of at least equal, if not vastly more, importance. Most problematically, we are going to be more likely to judge others based upon their work.  This leads to a lack of compassion for people who we feel work less hard than we do, but appear to have an easier life (I say appear because, of course, this assumption is often incredibly invalid and based on little more than our own unhappiness with our personal situation).

On the one hand, awesome.  On the other, should I be taking advice from a fictional figment of someone's imagination? Oh the dilemma.

Does this mean that we should not take pride in working hard?  Of course not.  I legitimately love what I do. Whether I am working with college or high school students, teaching anthropology or history (maybe not economics...), writing or lecturing, I do feel as though I am in my element.  I get a thrill from taking on interesting challenges and succeeding.  I obtain pleasure from working with young people and seeing them engage with new ideas and perspectives.  Still, should my entire existence be wrapped up in the constant quest to "do more" in order to prove myself worthy of keeping that job? I don't think so. Would I not be happier if I was a living being with passions first (teaching just happening to be one of them) and an employee second?  Absolutely.  At the very least, I wouldn't be begrudging other people their well deserved vacation simply because I do not have the luxury of taking time off.  And I know that would make me feel better about myself.