Just Another Jose - Immigrating to the United States

There is a sense of irony to be sitting in the Mexico-town neighborhood of Detroit and be almost under the Ambassador Bridge to Canada. I'll give you a chance to take deep breath and take that all in for a moment.

Down on Michigan Avenue there are burnt out buildings that no one has bothered to tear down, sad strip clubs and pawnbrokers. The empty factories always seem to be loitering on the next block. The abandoned train station that used to be the debarkation point for all those dreams seems like a haunting reminder of what was and may never be again.

In a cinder block saloon that I imagine was hopping when the shift changed, I am having a beer and passing the time of day with a Mexican fellow. His phone rings and his fiancé is calling.

"You're in trouble, now," I say.

He shakes his head, "No".

She is a thousand miles away, back in Mexico.

"What are you doing in Detroit?" I ask.

Like everyone else, he came here to work. He works too. He washes cars.

Why did he have to come a thousand miles to wash cars? Aren't there car washes in El Paso or Little Rock or St. Louis?

He tells me that he lives in an apartment that doesn't have electricity. There is some problem with a previous tenant and the city.

And I can restrain it no longer. I ask "why?"

He looks at me as if I am insane and answers, "It is Detroit".

I realize that he is looking at it all with fresh eyes. He sees not the defeat of what once was, but the same promise that folks used to see when that old train station was new. He sees the opportunity that we have become blind to.

I suppose that line of thinking is what frightens the status quo, the new idea, the different approach, the collapse of the old into a rotting heap. On the other hand it is exactly what we need.

Restricting immigration never made sense to me. The Naturalization act of 1790 opened the door for everyone, if you were free and white that is. Of course, a lot of folks were being kidnapped back then and shipped over here as slaves. It always seemed that the essence of freedom was the ability to move about freely. Our greatest wealth seemed to be derived from our people.

It also has been our history to struggle against any new arrivals. No one was ever given a pass. The original nativist movement like the No-Nothings and the Order of the Star Spangled Banner in 1830's - 1860's didn't like the Catholics, Irish or Germans. Then it was thought that too many Chinese were arriving and legislation was passed.

In time we recognized the in valuable contributions that each group made, put our prejudices aside and granted them acceptance. We seem to think that every freshman has to be hazed and put through a right of passage because after all, "our folks had it tough when they first came here".

Millions of Americans sit in front of their televisions and watch the advertisements showing little Peppito living in a cardboard box in some third world hell hole and are told "for just ten dollars a month..." it all can be different. Then we write the checks. If little Peppito wants to cross that river in hopes that he can earn an honest dollar and give us his labor, we react by strapping a sidearm on and behaving as if Santa Ana is again at our door.

It is time to relent, open the arms of liberty and welcome those huddled masses. The worst-case scenario seems to be that it would have little impact on our society http://www.factcheck.org/2010/05/does-immigration-cost-jobs/. I know it is asking a lot to put our political posturing aside, have a sane discussion and come up with a reasonable policy, but it is time. We owe it to the next group of immigrants.

That said, I'd like to remind you of the story of Jose Gutierrez, the first of our servicemen and women killed in Iraq. As an orphan in Guatemala, living in an untenable situation he heard the promise of the United States. Like our ancestors, he endured great hardship to get here. Alone at 14 years-old, he traveled 2000 miles and rode fourteen trains to get here. I would submit that that desire alone would be enough to welcome him to live and work alongside of us.

He was eventually detained by immigration, but it was the policy not to deport minors from Guatemala who arrived without a family. Instead he was placed in foster care.

I can hear some of you saying, "yep, a drain on the system already". We educated him and cared for him. He graduated high school, got his permanent visa and, yes, he learned English. Then he put college on hold and joined the Marines. He felt that he had a debt to repay.

From the time that he arrived until the time that he died he was just another "Jose" to us. He was a 'wetback' and a 'beaner'. He came here and lived off of the fat of the land. He just took from us.

He was like any other child.

Then he went off and made us proud.

He saw what we have forgotten and gave it back to us.

If we are smart we will accept the gift.