option, arizona/mexico border

"So many times in my work I interact with migrants and then they disappear into the landscape of the desert and I never know what happens. Though I have visited areas such as central Washington and Yuma, Arizona, where migrant workers make up the dominant working class, it has always been hard to make the transition between the migrant in the desert and the migrant in the workplace. This weekend opened my eyes and helped be take another step forward in seeing the migrant as a part of a community and seeing the connections in a brand new light.

The trip started with that overnight drive to LA. It is the same long freeway that takes us all 500 miles from Tucson to LA, and we split it between two drivers. I took the later shift and was driving as we pulled in to East LA at 4:30 a.m. We were due to start broadcasting at 5:00. We took the Lorena Street exit and pulled up to this large warehouse of a building while the streets were still empty. The four of us (who were all awake now) strained hard to find any symbol that would suggest that this was our destination, and finally we saw Rueben, the promotions director for the show. We parked the truck and walked in the service entrance to the building to discover it was a mercado, somewhat of a cross between the markets of Guatemala and the typical suburban mall on a smaller scale. As “El Gordo” started broadcasting, we set up a canopy and table outside on the street. We were told that people would just slow down and honk or wave to get us to bring the five gallon buckets in which people put donations. Before we had even gotten set up a gentleman showed up and asked in broken English if we were the people setting up tanks of water in the desert. I was prepared for the arguments that I have become so accustomed to discussing but when another volunteer responded “yes, that’s us” he simply said thanks and dropped a five dollar bill in the bucket. “It’s not much,” he said, “but I heard you guys on the radio on my way to work and wanted to stop by.” It was the beginning of two amazing days of stories and conversations about this Latino community over a hundred miles from the border but for whom the border was a real part of their history and life.

The weekend went on and at every moment I was amazed at the generosity of the people. As I took turns with the other volunteers standing on the street, I heard stories of individuals crossing, of people trying to find work, and of friends and family looking for a better life, both in the States and in Mexico. Some people I thanked them for there generosity, like the business owner who pulled 120 gallons of water out of his warehouse to donate, or the truck driver who responded to the on-air request for a semi-truck to move the overwhelming number of donations. With others I stared in disbelief or tried to convince them not to give so much. One man, a 20-something landscape worker just signed over his paycheck; I was moved to tears. What struck me was the sense of identity that this community had with the migrant and how when confronted with the distress of a community member, they reacted without hesitation. It was not a community that was destined or even prone to political action. On the contrary they reacted with material goods they knew could make a difference.

In the last few weeks I have been continually faced with the question of whether my year of service was worth it. That’s a hard question that I so often find myself with. I can say with a somber reality that the situation on the border is no better than it was 11 months ago. People are still dying for lack of water, families are still being split up, and humanitarians and Border Patrol alike are fighting a losing battle. Like a man who begged to get our attention in LA and then could only eke out the words “I lost my brother in the desert.” I am speechless. We must see national immigration policy reform before we see a change on Arizona’s border.

What I can say is that I have made a difference. Just like four teenagers I gave water to last weekend, the lives that I have helped to save in the desert live on in communities like Los Angeles, Colorado, Spokane, and across the United States. They are people who are living, working, and contributing to the richness that we live in. And so the value of community is not lost on me, whether it be in the desert heat, with my housemates here in Tucson, or our community of friends and family in Spokane."

--current yav to borderlands on the tucson/nogales border area