When a Child is a Child: Seeing Migrant Children in Germany
By Noe Padilla
When I walked into a Red Cross-run refugee center in Berlin on a record-breaking hot day, I expected to find a warehouse full of people. Instead I was greeted by a calm and well-kept community.
I watched a small group of migrant children playing in small inflatable pools that had been provided to escape the heat. Their innocent smiles truly brought joy to me. The idea that even in such troubling times these children were able enjoy life was a spiritually uplifting moment for me.
But then I thought of America, and my heart began to ache. I thought of the migrant children there and was almost certain that I would never see such joy on their faces. Instead of seeing a child in a blue plastic swimming pool, Americans back home saw a child dead in the Rio Grande. Our refugee process separates children from their parents and forces them to sleep in brightly lit rooms with aluminum blankets and minimal care. I almost began to cry.
Although the children at the Berlin refugee center were living in temporary housing which was little more than shipping containers converted into studio apartments, they at least had their parents. Back at home, migrant children are parenting and taking care of other children.
As I was guided through the makeshift community, I saw the accommodation made for the refugee children. They had a classroom and a room specifically used for arts and crafts. Throughout the rooms, I saw drawings made by the children of superheroes like Spider-man and Superman. I pondered whether America would give such accommodations to migrant children. I don’t believe they would. If the U.S. administration is unwilling to provide soap for the children, I doubt they would give them an education.
I’m not saying conditions have been perfect for refugee children. This Red Cross location was the second home for these children after the initial influx of refugees from Syria, Iraq and North Africa was successfully absorbed through larger refugee warehouse complexes, which have now been closed. The original living conditions in 2015 and 2016 were much worse, we were told.
I was also told by the director of the Red Cross center of an incident that occurred at the camp almost half a year ago that reminded me of accusations of sexual assault against minor migrants in U.S. detention centers.
Awhile back, unbeknownst to the Berlin-based refugee director, a pedophile was sent to his center. Luckily, the pedophile was removed from the premises before anything bad happened. Due to the European Union’s (EU) privacy regulations, refugees are sent to his location without records of their past, on the logic that those details are relevant only during their legal proceedings to determine their refugee status.
When the director later asked officials if they had been aware that the refugee was a known pedophile, they told him that they knew. The on-site director was beyond livid at the local government agencies when he found out that they knew about this refugee’s criminal past and still sent him to the center. His location had 60 children during this period. I was shocked by this revelation. I could never imagine this kind of oversight to happen, especially when children were involved.
The director also told me that in two years, the government will tear down the camp and replace it with a soccer field. The current inhabitants are expected to have been adequately placed in apartments in the community by then.
Later that night, I kept trying to put myself in the shoes of migrant children in both Germany and the United States, imagining what they must be going through. That night I could not sleep.
UC Santa Barbara journalism students are now out reporting daily in Berlin for feature articles which will be published here in July. Meanwhile, they are blogging from the city about their travel and journalism experiences.
