What Happens When You Wall Off a River?
Trump’s wall will cut communities off from water, nature, recreational lands
On a recent Sunday, some friends and I slipped a canoe into the cool, clear water of the Rio Grande at the eastern tip of Starr County, just below Falcon Lake.
We waved to a group of young boys, laughing as they cast fishing lures into the current.
I watched an osprey splash into the water and rise back into the air, clutching a fish in its talons. Green jays, Altamira orioles and ringed kingfishers — rare and beautiful species that draw birdwatchers from all over the world — darted from Texas mesquite to centuries-old Montezuma cypress trees.
Any notion of a national emergency along this international border seemed laughable. We spent a peaceful day on the river without seeing a single Border Patrol agent or border crosser.
But this incredible corridor of water and wildlife, these fishing holes and picnic spots, will soon be walled off from Starr County residents and the rest of the U.S. forever.
You’d never know that by watching the national news or listening to Washington, D.C., politicians.
When Congress voted to end Trump’s government shutdown in February, both sides lauded the deal and claimed victory. But they gave up something irreplaceable. The budget deal included nearly $1.4 billion for new border walls along this beautiful river.
In a cruelty hard to comprehend, these funds will be used to wall the entire county off from its water source and recreational lands. Private properties will be seized, wildlife refuges bulldozed and the people of Starr County stripped of access to their lifeblood and natural heritage.
Starr County is the poorest county in Texas and the most Hispanic county in the nation, with more than half the population below the poverty line and 95 percent identifying as Hispanic. When politicians in Washington, D.C., strike a deal, places like Starr County are often thrown under the bus.
To build the wall in Starr County, at least 10 wildlife refuge tracts — all part of the Lower Rio Grande Valley National Wildlife Refuge — will be destroyed. The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service describes the wildlife refuge as “one of the most biodiverse regions in North America.”
In a region where 95 percent of native habitat has been lost to development, the natural corridor along the Rio Grande River is the last ribbon of green for wildlife. It now hangs by a thread. The wall here will slice this tiny ribbon in two.
The Department of Homeland security is rapidly moving forward with construction preparations.
Property owners have received right-of-entry requests from U.S. Customs and Border Protection. Bright pink flags have been staked on wildlife refuge land, marking where the new wall will be built.
People like Nayda Alvarez will watch their homes be demolished. Nayda is a high school teacher whose family has lived on the banks of the Rio Grande in Starr County for at least five generations.
“I didn’t choose this fight,” Nayda told me recently, standing on her property’s riverbank looking across the Rio Grande into Mexico.
Legal options for landowners are slim. Through eminent domain the government has power to seize land at lightning speed. The feds can file a declaration of taking one day and roll in bulldozers the next.
To make matters worse, the Department of Homeland Security has a longstanding and well-documented pattern of low-balling landowners. In Starr County, few can afford attorneys to fight for a reasonable payment.
Starr County is being quietly sacrificed to Trump’s border hysteria. While politicians spew talking points about the morality of the border wall and pass “compromise” budgets, the people of Starr County are poised to lose everything.
Their loss diminishes all of us. Take a paddle down the Rio Grande and see for yourself, while you still can.
Laiken Jordahl works at the Center for Biological Diversity, where he focuses on protecting wildlife, ecosystems and communities throughout the U.S.-Mexico borderlands.
