I learned about the national pilgrimage to the border for a weekend teach-in and action within my first few hours of working at CSPL. Immediately upon hearing about it I knew I wanted to go. Much of why I wanted to spend this year at CSPL is due to our work with immigrant leaders for immigration justice. Partaking in a national pilgrimage to the border in El Paso to learn and take action against the atrocities committed by the federal government originally felt easy to me—of course I would be going. As I learned and considered more about this pilgrimage, I quickly recognized the privilege associated with my unwavering desire and ability to embark on it.

As I reflect upon the current challenges of these days, I am put into the mindset of fully understanding that I am fully a part of a “world “ community. The “me” world that many of us follow in many ways has yielded to the reality that we are all connected, whether we like it or not. A virus had to unfold to make us humans realize the common world that we share.

When I reflect upon how the Corona pandemic has affected me, on the one hand, it makes me realize how vulnerable we are individually, while also triggering thoughts of how powerful we are collectively.

As a mother and healthcare worker, the COVID-19 pandemic has had a tremendous effect on my life. Professionally my health is at risk, but even then I know it is for a good cause. I live with the profound stress knowing that at any moment I could be exposed and that ultimately I am also risking my children and husband being exposed to the virus. The limited supply of Personal Protective Equipment (PPE) workers have, and the little known effectiveness it has, has really made me worried when going to work.

This was the great wall. The wall that has been used as a campaign line for some but for many has been used as an excuse to fear of the unknown.  When one is in the comfort of their home and reads all these headlines, it can get sad. It can even cause one to have disturbing thoughts asking yourself questions such as “what are they eating? or “are they warm?” one can even go as far as asking themselves if such an “alienated’” person had to show up unannounced at their door, would they take them in? As quickly as these thoughts are welcomed in, they are ushered out by one’s own realities. Boxed up and store in our mind’s “I-cloud”. Coming in once in a while and so many times never visiting again.

Al inicio del mes de octubre escuché que habría una Jornada por la Justicia en El Paso, TX. En el momento sentí curiosidad por saber más, pero solo bastó la interrupción de una llamada telefónica para distraer mi atención. A los pocos días recibí una invitación personalmente a participar en la Jornada. En ese momento no pude justificarme a mi misma de estar distraída y tratar de apaciguar el dolor que he sentido en mi corazón cuando escucho las noticias sobre las familias que son divididas por causa de su estatus migratorio en los Estados Unidos. Aún sintiendo inseguridad, acepte la invitación en un acto de fe y solidaridad. 

My first encounter with ICE officers was probably when I was 14 years old, just about to enter the 9th grade. I remember this moment very well, because the night before I had watched this scary movie called Saw. So, I was terrified that someone was going to kidnap me. I checked my closet and slept with the lights on that night. No one came for me, but my mom was taken. Two ICE officers entered our home that morning. I only heard bits and pieces because my mom had closed my bedroom door and told me to go back to sleep. Eavesdropping, I heard them tell my mom to go with them, and she would return back to her family soon. That took 3 months. She was taken to the Atlanta Detention Center, and then transferred to an Alabama detention center.