Illegal: A Reflection
During my reading of chapters 1 and 2 (as well as the preface) I realized that I had no idea just how heavy the implications are of being a successfully hidden undocumented immigrant; nor did I understand the shifting methods by which immigrants enter the country. I didn’t know 50% come in by plane, that boarder crossings have gone down, that Asian/Pacific Islander is the fastest growing ethnic group making up the undocumented immigrant population. Sure, I’d known that “illegals” can’t own real driver’s licenses or state ID’s, but I never thought about how isolating it would really be to not own real legal documents. Thinking about all the things I couldn’t do brings about a paralyzing fear. “My only goal in obtaining this license was not to feel so isolated and singled out. Pretty much the way minors do.” (p-18) I’m glad he brings up this point about minors being singled out. Often as a minor I felt as though the things I was being restricted from were silly, or unnecessary. But this quote also affirms that there are no evil intentions behind his obtaining of legal documents. Those like him are not trying to contribute to voter fraud, or harm American citizens. It seems ridiculous that anyone would believe a man like this would harbor ill intent toward America.There are several sections where he mocks the fear attributed to undocumented workers. “I threatened to put in the wrong order, to deny someone another basket of chips and salsa, to spill a strawberry margarita on a costumer’s shirt!” (P-18). This sarcastic language illustrates the absurdity of the modern American fear of “illegal immigrants”. It furthers the point that the jobs they usually end up in, the ones requiring menial labor, aren’t ones that are missed by the American workforce. Even once out of a minimum wage job, they contribute to society in a positive way in higher up positions. Either way, their presence benefits America as a whole.
But when he speaks about how modern America views undocumented workers, he uses a Republican who holds the same view as many Americans. “Professor Huntington is convinced that I am utterly ungrateful, disloyal, and unappreciative. Seized by nativist paranoia, he deems me a threat to American Identity.” (P-16) When in fact the polar opposite is true. The patriotism that exhumes from those who come here for the American Dream is far more potent than that of someone who was born here. I for one am rather cynical about our country, our history of corruption, stains of innocent blood mark it from the day the first pilgrims arrived on the shores of the “New World”. But even with all America’s indiscretions, past and present, there are those who come here with eyes glowing; brought from far and wide by tales of bounty and the American Dream. My grandparents were those such people. Luckily they came through legal means (as they could afford it) and became contributing members of the San Franciscan workforce. For decades my grandparents saved frugally, and worked for the city of San Francisco for almost 40 years. “I began to see myself in the social fabric of American Society.” (P-16) Just as my grandparents integrated into American society, the author too hopes to live side-by-side, peacefully, within society. What crime is there in such intentions?
My grandparents came during a time when the mentality toward immigrants was still largely positive. A mentality outlined in the Preface, specifically in a speech by the general George S. Patton. In his speech he tells his troops, fighting against those they called brethren, that their status as Americans superseded that of their blood ties. No longer were they immigrants, now, they were true Americans. “Thus the irrepressible general was alluding to an idea that enjoyed much credit in American society at the time, namely, that immigrants represent the most energetic, entertaining, dynamic, and freedom-loving segment of the population of their countries of origin, which they compelled to leave.” Instead our attitudes have shifted back to one of hatred and resentment and fear. The media uses schema attached to words like “criminal” and “illegal” to denote a sense of distrust in “illegals”. They are put in the same pot as rapists and killers and robbers. In these times of mass human displacement we need to see the positives of taking in immigrants rather than the negatives. We must show compassion for their plight, as well as respect their arduous journey to our country.
When he speaks of his plight and his hopes, respectively, we can see his use of language has clearly flowered into something like poetry the way he describes the events of his life. When he speaks of his schooling there is a hopeful, lively feel to his use of words, “…inside my head I was slowly becoming a man of the world. A seed of cosmopolitanism was beginning to blossom in my spirit.” This is contrasted sharply with the total despair he expresses when thinks about the forced solitude of his condition, “I only half existed. My effect on others was no greater than that of a cabinet, a stop sign, a park bench. I was voiceless in my new home, but I might as well have been unborn.” One can only imagine the loneliness, the terrible despair of realizing that after years of hurdles and obstacles; taking on debt after debt, fearing and ducking into the shadows for years and years, only to realize that maybe, “The liberty I had found was merely an illusion.” What soul-crushing pessimism this inspires! And yet the author pushes through, through the doubt and the fear, through everything that threaten to drag him down he persevered. Isn’t that the American Dream? Wasn’t it preached long ago that ours was a country of immigrants? Doesn’t anyone who will contribute to our society deserve a shot at citizenship? Truly, now more than ever, we must fight for the rights of those who would come here in search of a better life. The Trump administration must not be allowed to add another permanent stain next to the others’ our country has amassed through our history.
