Borderline
For the past week 31 year-old Miguel has brought his wife and 3 year-old daughter to the Garita El Chaparral, one of the 3 border crossings from Tijuana into California. The trio watches a group of 100 people gather around a man with a large notebook, sitting in a plastic chair in the concrete plaza. It’s only 9 a.m. but intense heat is starting to make the crowd sweat as they listen intently while the man with the book calls out names. Everyone here, a group that includes people from other parts of Mexico, Central America, Asia, Africa, even Syria, is planning to ask for asylum in the United States.
Miguel says he’s trying to save his family from the narco violence that has engulfed his southern Mexican state of Guerrero. But asking for asylum has gotten harder in the past year as the US Government has tried to narrow the criteria for who they say qualify. The US Attorney General Jeff Sessions recently stated that fleeing domestic abuse and gang violence doesn’t make the cut.
Some of the information that Miguel and his family might benefit from as they wait to hear their names called is that it can be more difficult for Mexican nationals to gain asylum for cases of gang violence, that the family will get separated in some fashion, that the book of names everybody is glued to is actually not an official ledger, and that there are a host of social services and resources for migrants in Tijuana to help families.
Across town Daniel Bribiescas is arriving for his evening shift. He’s a Tijuana based lawyer who spends his weeknights providing legal aid at a local shelter that serves women and children who are migrating, or who have been deported, sometimes without their children. Right now there are 90 women and children (ranging in age from 5 months to 13 years-old) at the shelter and only 45 beds. At night the hallways and communal spaces are filled with mats to accommodate everybody. Bribiescas says he wishes many of these women had a better understanding of the asylum process before they left their regions. He also wishes deported moms had better information on the complicated bureaucratic hoops of applying to re-establish custody of any children who are still on the US side.
Paulina Olvera’s office looks out onto the border wall and desert beyond. She says the building was commandeered years ago by the Mexican government when they realized there was a tunnel running underneath to the US side, and eventually it was converted into an art space. Olivera’s from Baja, and she’s watched over the past decade as Tijuana has swelled with new faces from Haiti, Central America, and deportees from other parts of Mexico. While Olvera knows most people traditionally see her town as a way station before the US, the reality is thousands have wound up staying on the Mexican side of the border. She’s created an organization to try and address that reality. Espacio Migrante works to help people find the resources and information they need in Mexico, including how to get a humanitarian visa, register for school, afford an apartment, learn Spanish or English, and find a job.
Stay tuned to our website and newsletter for updates on our information needs on the border research.
The Listening Post Collective is a project of Internews. We provide journalists, newsroom leaders, and non-profits tools and advice to create meaningful conversations with their communities. We believe responsible reporting begins with listening. From there, media outlets and community organizations can create news stories that respond to people’s informational needs, reflect their lives, and enable them to make informed decisions.
