Reflections On Border Crisis OOver the months of the COVID-19 crisis, I have remained in contact with nuns and others who are at our southern border with Mexico. Some Americans feel anxious or worse about the migrants and asylum seekers coming across the border since the Inauguration of President Biden. Under the closedborder policy of the Trump Administration, those seeking refuge were told to remain in Mexico, that somehow our State Department would track their location and notify them of the date and time of the hearing of their petition. But many of the asylum claimants are fleeing gang or government violence in Central America, or escaping collapsing economies or communities left uninhabitable after two serious hurricanes in 2020. This is particularly true of those with homes in eastern Honduras. “When you hear the stories and see the people yourself, they are not just a nameless bunch of people in a crowd from a 10-second news report,” Dominican Sister Nancy Murray has written, working with them at our border and reflecting over the many refugees she has met during the COVID crisis. “They would rather be in their home countries safe and raising their children there. It is fear and violence that’s forcing them to come here.” These are the desperate few, she added, who had “the means and the dreams” to make it this far. Others remain in their homes, facing intimidation and threats against their lives or those of their children. Residents of a rural village I visited in El Salvador told me that gangs demanded their sons, and to refuse would mean a bullet. Their initial response was to hide their teenagers, just as we might try, but living in constant fear of exposure was sufficient to pay what little money they had to transport their sons to the US border and seek the protection of refugee status. The protest of some of our citizens to deny them even temporary protection only forced them to camp out along border riverbeds or municipal garbage dumps. Our government, in most cases, was unable to provide a date and time of their hearings. I've always thought of Americans as a compassionate people, who include mercy in the application of the law. I was taught this in my Civics classes in high school and in the government's response to the Civil Rights protests in earlier decades. These are people eager to work and to contribute to our economy, and they should not be viewed as freeloaders on our medical and social service programs. They are entrusting the care of their sons and daughters to us, and, as I have seen with my own eyes, even their very lives of their children. It is a common saying in Latin America that "our children are our future." Sons and daughters are expected to care for their parents and aging members of their extended families. We, in contrast, have programs including Social Security to fall back on. There is nothing comparable for seniors living in nations south of our border. I've heard some quoting the maxim, "You cannot reap what you failed to sow," blaming the victims of this failure of a society to protect its members. These are hollow words and do not bring hope to people living in fear and in poverty. We are not idle bystanders, devoid of any responsibility to help our neighbors in need. When you hear friends and neighbors complain about the crowding of facilities at our border with Mexico, and the apparent abandonment of children to the hands of coyotes, ask why this is happening. No one would willingly give over their young sons and daughters to strangers, especially those involved in black market trading and with a financial interest. Why are those kids being held in detention centers? Fr. Bob Miller, IHM
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