Sunday, December 11, 2011

      I feel good this morning. My last minutes of sleeping involved a visit from my Granddad in a dream. This is the first time I have seen him since he died in autumn of 2004, so it has been seven years almost exactly. Many things have changed around me since then, including relatives. His death separated my aunts and uncles from us even more than they already were. His estate was a big deal I guess I don’t know I had my own issues going on to really pay much attention to it all. All that I knew was that my rock, my Granddad had rolled off into the disappearing wherever, and now who would be there for me?
      I lived with my Granddad when I was twenty years old in Florida. I worked at a new store within walking distance. I saved some money, I ventured about walking up and down the miles of stores, or riding my bike to distant locations, getting lost sometimes. The bus system took a full circle out to the island. It would go down the causeway, which was always full of things to look at with the tan bodies unloading their boats and ski jets of all shapes and sizes. It then would go out to the island with either the families scurrying out of their cars with sixteen different floating devices and piles of towels and buckets and shade umbrellas, or of course the natives, the islanders, the people that I ended up knowing all too well eventually. The bus would take a turn back up towards the main land at Cortez and circle around back to the Kmart bus-stop close to Granddad’s house a total of an hour. I ended up getting a little apartment out there on the island across from the beach. I had a job as the only waitress in a pricey German restaurant beside my apartment. The owner’s name was Hans. Hans was the chef of many German dishes like Sauerbraten, and our menu was in the German language. The host was his boyfriend of a decade named Bob. He was sort of like my BFF because he was more feminine. We sat around every night after closing drinking a glass of the Varsteiner beer on tap, so rich. His son was the dishwasher, and then there was me, the little 21 year old waitress with a slim figure and bleach blonde hair all twisted with braids and ringlets for work in my tight fitting black and white skirts and shirts across the street from the sunset. We were only open from five to nine. It was a perfect set up. Once, Hans took all of us to the water park in his fancy car. Many people laughed at our group. I guess it was because of their bikini trunks? A group of teens kept calling us the Adams family. I did not care though because I was not insecure in that way. I still remember it though so it did leave an impression.
      While I lived with my Granddad we had many special moments. My Granddad loved my laugh, he constantly said I could do anything both with that laugh and with my intelligence that he praised me for often. He held the highest opinion of me of anyone that I have ever known, as to why I say that my rock was gone. Along with him leaving went my adoration, that lovely feeling that helped me get through life when I knew someone had the best of thoughts for my life… that was him.
       One day I took a bike ride out to the causeway and lay out to tan on my towel all afternoon and I fell asleep. It started to get late so I went back home to Granddad’s house, and we went to eat at Wendy’s at five as usual, and I took a quick nap after. That evening my Granddad and I watched TV and I felt a tickle on my head. My hair was down to my waist at that time and was all twirled up into a bun on top of my head. I thought that the tickle was one of the cats. I swished my arm up to shoo them away, but when I looked there was no cat. I sat up and out of my hair fell a little foot long skinny snake to the floor. Granddad got the cooking prongs from the kitchen and picked it up. He was so happy and I can still remember his excited little boy face as he headed to the bathroom with the snake to flush him. We laughed but I was at the same time so grossed out at the thought that it must have been nestled up in my hair all day from the causeway visit. That was a good moment, a memory with him that I treasure. I spent my twenty first birthday with him. We had cake and ice cream and watched the Pretty Woman movie that just came out.  My Nana was still alive then and sometimes we ganged up as women on my Granddad when he got too grumpy. She said to me it was just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as it was a poor one. I guess I did not follow that advice well. That is, if rich meant money.
       I left Florida and went back to my mother’s home. My father had left. I broke out in hives at the realization that I should have stayed in Florida. I slowly went through various unguided mistakes, one after the other till I found myself back in Florida some ten years later. My Nana had died, my Granddad was a bit older, but his eyes still sparkled at me when he seen me and he still loved my laugh. I called him when I had the nerve to leave my abusive husband and needed gas money as I sat and waited for him to arrive along side of the highway. He pulled up in his station wagon and we sat and I cried. He let me cry on the side of his shoulder as he hugged me. I told him about how leaving my abusive husband was hurting my feelings so much, but I did not tell him about the abuse. My Granddad said, “Friends don’t leave friends when times get tough.” If only it were that simple.
       I did end up leaving for good, but not at that time of course. I don’t hold that advice against him because he most certainly was not aware of the existence of the true nature of the abuse that was going on or he would not have said that to me I am sure. When we got the call that he was in the hospital and my dad was flying into town, we all went to the hospital. Granddad was propped up in a chair moaning and gritting his teeth. We had the nurses move him to the bed. He told my abusive husband to take good care of me. He knew he was going to die. I stayed to comfort Granddad. My abusive husband went home to, later I found out, smoke crack, the freak. Granddad went down a road of horrible pain that throughout we made direct strong eye contact with for 4-5 hours straight. I saw the fear in his eyes and I told him over and over that it was okay. They gave him morphine and he went to sleep until he finally died. I felt like he took part of me with him as I was the last person that he was looking at though all of those hours. It was so intense.
      I left my abusive husband within the following month. At the funeral service at my Granddad’s house he told me if you leave me I will kill you. I am not sure why he said that. I left him anyway. Actually the city employees took us away from him. It all worked out for the best.
       I have missed my Granddad’s supportive adoration over the years. It was like an extra protective barrier from society’s bumps that I went through. I have found that same love with Ricardo. He is always my rock. I can have a day of total turmoil and insecurities and I talk to Ricardo and he instantly calms me down with few words. Meeting him was my blessing as I have always said from day one. He has added to my life that extra security that someone in the world loves me unconditionally.
      I had this dream about Granddad this morning. I have not seen him since he died, so it was a bit of a pleasant surprise. I woke up in the early morning very depressed… very, very sad… then I went back to sleep. Maybe my Granddad knew that I needed him. In my dream he held me while I cried and I told him how sad I was and he comforted me with his words. When I woke up I felt better. I think he is still watching me, so now I feel better. It gets really hard to focus when you are sad. I do not have the luxury of time to be sad. My life is falling apart around me, so there is definitely a need for support even if only when I am sleeping.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

The Rule of Law Illusion

The Rule of Law Illusion
         I am a white American woman, fifth generation descendant of Germany to American soil, and beloved wife of a Mexican. Under normal circumstances, this claim would evoke an evaluation of my loyalty toward my own country perhaps, but even more a question as to why would I want to stray from the marriage of a citizen from the United States. However, this claim is not under normal circumstance. This claim is admittance to an involvement in one of the grandest endeavors to eliminate an “undesirable” race in a country using tactics of racism that will perhaps ever be written in history. Presently in the United States the execution is underway of the elimination of Hispanic immigrants using Rule of Law as their only means to exalt their racist agendas. As a citizen, I have found contentment and a false sense of confidence in trusting that our nation would guard me from harm, therefore never questioning racism from a naïve white girl’s point of view. It was ultimately one of the most significant moments in my life when the realization of truth became my driving force into the future. I could quietly accept that my relationship with an unauthorized Mexican man would be packaged with the unfortunate miscalculations for my future, or I could defend what being an American is to me, an exception to the rule, that is not defined as a place, but as a spirit that lives within us to be American, against nativist that have as much of a right to their say in my country as I do. In my search for justice for my own family’s rights, I have found myself engulfed in a racist movement. The racist movement that is currently taking place in the United States against the Hispanic/Latino immigrant is being led by the infiltration of our government body to cater to the nativist power as the supreme and ultimate last word.
          The government’s disregard of family unity is an undeniable feature to call our attention to. Our country is filled with emphasis on the value of family being at the heart of every law, health, education, and religion. We are to promote our value of family in our actions to protect the components of that family structure. We assume that family is the basic highlight of the all American good life with the impression that the government is there to push for corresponding legislation to represent this assumption. However, we find that this is only a mask when it comes to the true reality of what is happening to the families that are presently involved in the entanglement of forces moving to dismember the Hispanic/Latino immigrant’s family unit. An acquaintance of mine, Bob Libal, Texas senior organizer at the Grassroots Leadership commented, “I think we already knew that the deportation system drains a lot of resources, but now we also know that there are all these additional costs… [and] our immigration system doesn’t prioritize family unification” (as cited in Trevio, 2011).  Remorse has been replaced with intentions of humanism. The United States government has sought to destroy the family of the Hispanic/Latino immigrant with the enforcement of new legislation.  The booming business of privately owned detention centers becomes the means to severe the ties between child and parent. In a study called Disappearing Parents, we find that, “immigrant parents are being separated from their children, at times permanently, due to the complex and uncoordinated interactions between the immigration enforcement system and the child welfare system” (as cited in The University of Arizona, pg 10, para 2). This is thought to be a subject ‘not of our concern’ as Americans and we look on this tragedy with an air of responsibility to the parent who made the unlawful decision to cross the border illegally, bringing upon his own demise. Would that be a true statement in itself or is that something that I would have myself thought in my naïve frame of mind before I knew the truth? If we look to the Constitution, which by all means is our lifeline to rule of law and we compare to the treatment of the parent being detained or deported and the child being taken as a ward of the state, we see an injustice served regarding due process, all in the name of supposed justice. “Undocumented immigrant parents are entitled to these same due process protections in the context of proceedings regarding their parental rights… a system that afforded them different rights in this context would be irreconcilable with the long history of cases establishing that undocumented immigrants retain certain constitutional rights by virtue of their presence in the country” (as cited in The University of Arizona, 2011, pg 28, para 1). This particular study gave recommendations to the Department of Homeland Security, Child Protection Services, and Congress itself to plea with them to modify their intentions to preserve the family unit value and has blatantly been ignored by all. We currently are witness to “at least 5,100 children in 22 states [that] are currently in foster care, and if the current pace of deportations continue, ARC [American Research Center] expects that number to rise to 15,000 children in the next five years” (as cited in Gavett, Nov 2011, para 3).  These numbers reflect the amount of families only that are affected that have “American” children to only “unauthorized” parents. It does not reflect on the numbers of families separated due to the broken immigration system in its entirety. “Since Obama took office, his administration has deported more than a million people” (as cited in Gavett, 2011, para 3). These children and parents deserve the respect but instead are treated like their lives mean nothing; labeled criminals. That is our government’s argument to continue.
        My own family has been affected. There has not been a deportation or a detention in our history. We went to his home country of Mexico after starting our relationship in the USA. I never dreamed that as an American citizen I would not have enough weight in my citizenship to pull my husband and father of my children into our country to live with us as a family. There is a lot of anger in that reality. With that anger I have searched for answers only to meet many people enduring the same circumstances as myself, many of which have been through the court system. The verdict is not always a fair deal for these families. Many are never allowed to return to the United States when their husband receives a lifetime ban for a previous unauthorized visit, and some of them are allowed to return after their ten or twenty year bans are satisfied. There is not too much relief in these situations, but only deep loss and a dependency on each other to stay afloat while waiting for the lifeboat to happen along. We are all waiting for this miracle, patiently, as our children do not stop from growing. Our letters to the government officials do not come back with answers, but rather with a thank you for your concern automated letter. We are led to believe through every news article that we read that we are not being heard, or our pain even contemplated. Our families are becoming nothing more than casualties.
      “Nativist efforts to restrict immigration through legislation are obviously legal, yet scholars and various ethnic and immigrant organizations are quick to label the legislative activists of nativist organizations as ‘racist’ (Hingham 1965, Tatalobich, 1995)” (as cited in The Politics of Immigration and National Integration, 2005, para 60). Our United States government has put much effort into the recent movement of immigration enforcement as has been the history of our country. In the foundation building of the American attitude, European influential literature and politics reflect their dislikes of the differences in people, the exalting of ego that followed racism ideals of those ‘others,’ including that of Americans. Governor Morris, of the highest reaches of American society and who wrote the phrase, “We the People of The United States in order to form a more perfect union…” exclaimed after a visit to Europe, “I feel very stupid in the group... [for Americans] are ignorant of the charms of good French society” (as cited in Painter, 2010, pg 97, para 3). How rough the new world would compare to Europe. The pressure to conform to attract those with the influence of wealth to embark to relocate to the United States would have created enough incentive to adopt the Euro-centric attitudes of separating the “desirables.”  There has even been “serious question as to whether the founding principle of the Republican Party would be its opposition to slavery, or its animus towards [certain] immigrants” (as cited in Bender and Leone, 1992, pg 17, para 2).  In efforts to control the flood of people who were different than the nativist, the multiple attempts to establish immigration law over the past century have conveniently changed to suit and ensure the best outcome of minimization of the discomfort that immigration brings. The first Quota Law, in 1921, based on the percentage of each nationality’s population in the U.S., was changed within a few years considering that,
 “…once people realized that the great waves of 1890 to 1910 had already allowed large numbers of the ‘undesirables’ into the United States, they revised the law with the 1924 National Origins Quota System Act, which based its limitations on the 1890 census… ensured that the largest number of new immigrants after 1924 would come from the less threatening northern and western European countries” (as cited in Bender and Leone, 1992, pg 188, para 2). 
The past and present day amendments and new bills and laws proposed, show a long history of needs for racism in order to control the masses by the cliché of a certain type of individual that have designed a system to protect their powerful positions above the rest.
America has more potential than this.
     An amazing friend of mine, Emily Nelson Guzman, took her own family’s ordeal into the public eye when her husband, Pedro, was detained in a privately own facility in Georgia. They went back to that place together with their son, this month during a vigil performed outside the gates of the detention center, with others that rally in opposition to the racist, inhumane treatment of the detainees. She spoke in front of a crowd later that evening in a nearby workshop for immigrant rights…
“It took 596 days for them to give Pedro a day in court and finally give him permanent residency. Every one of those days was a profit for CCA (Corrections Corporation of America). In the first quarter of 2011, CCA’s net income was $40.3 million and with each quarter their income increases. Each time there is a new anti-immigrant law like SB-1070 in Arizona or HB-87 in Georgia, their ‘beds’ fill up with immigrants and their profits increase…. CCA was at the original planning discussion to initiate SB-1070 because they profit from harsh immigration laws” (as cited in Bring Pedro Home, 2011).
Emily and her husband represent thousands just like them. The United States government is proposing to uproot and destroy families all in the name of rule of law with racism intentions.
     How do we define this treatment and what is our opposition? “The term racism, refers to acts of discrimination based solely on the racial characteristics of an individual or an entire people” (as cited in Racism, 2002, para 1). The racial characteristic is obviously that of the Hispanic/Latino immigrant, labeled “illegal” because of their unauthorized status. “In their 1994 book ‘The Immigration Invasion,’ Wayne Lutton and John Tanton explore immigration consequences in such areas as health and welfare costs, the labor market, the politics of race, crime, and quality of life… that the third world influx threatens to swamp not just the United States, but also Europe” (as cited in Bender & Leone, 1996, pg 124, para 2). The inventive argument that the nativist attempts to instill into the minds of America is that we are to find discomfort in the immigrant’s journey to “our” land because it will bring about a lower quality standard to the rest of us. Unfortunately, many powerful men like Lutton and Tanton are able to use that power in the political ring. Congressman Lamar Smith has become one of the key players in drafting and exerting bills and laws to eliminate the rights to, or any hope of rights of citizenship to the immigrants. He has helped change the laws that make it nearly unattainable to achieve citizenship status. His goal to sell his idea that Arizona’s anti-immigrant laws are quite practical, as “the problem of course, is that the people of Arizona are not the opponent – Arizonans, like other Americans, are on the side of the law” (as cited in Smith, 2010). Lamar and the like with their political affairs are super influential in the plight of the immigrant’s life. We are to believe that the “Rule of Law” should be upheld. The nativist racist’s fallacious argument is based on the problems made mostly of untrue statements inflicting fear that the immigrant brings detrimental consequences to our country and that perhaps our country will suffer with the immigrants’ presence.
         We are a nation of immigrants. The history of assimilation has brought to our country strength, diversity, color, and vibrancy through the many cultures and ethics of work, pleasures, and of course food. Contradictory to the nativist claim that we are a single unit American people, our Melting Pot characterization initiated because of our love and embrace of the immigrant and everything that each one of them contributes to our country. Our families are part of this American heritage that we defend so valiantly and because of that reason we find that the use of the Rule of Law is being deliberately manipulated. Take into account that Article nine of The Universal Declaration of Human Rights founded in December of 1948, which says, “No one shall be subjected to arbitrary arrest, detention or exile” (as cited in United Nations, 2011). In accordance to the “Rule of Law,” if this law were to be made by the United Nations, then there will not be an arbitrary decision when it comes to the law. Based on this concept, any random choice, personal whim, or racist agenda, would be deemed as against the rule of law according to the United Nations. If no one will be subjected to arbitrary arrest, according to this law, would not the relation between the fact that most of these immigrants are fully assimilated into the United States, just as a productive citizen, be introduced as enough of a reason to perceive a contradiction of protection of their rights, Americans without documents per say? These immigrants were invited by employment, from the United States citizens themselves, with hopes and promises of better lives. The lack of ability to acquire the proper documentation even with the most extreme cases with American citizen spouses and children nonetheless, more or less accomplishes the presentation of impossibility that the immigrant faces. These new bills and laws reflect the taste of racism in the underhanded profit seeking agenda that the unforeseen and unjust seizure of people’s lives and families. We find that in the rule of law “that no person is punishable except for a breach of law established in the ordinary manner before the ordinary courts of the land’ this is in contrast to arbitrary power and excludes wide discretionary authority” (as cited in Clark, para 9) and with this statement how can we promote that the recent anti-immigrant laws be grounds to rip apart families of established people has in fact been ordinary, but more arbitral in agenda? That establishment alone should be in question as the law of the undocumented cannot obtain documents, but lives as a citizen. One of the greatest fallacies that the nativist shoves at the public in its defense is the fact that immigrants do not pay taxes. However taxes are paid contrary to the “myth” of the nativist propaganda,
“…immigrants pay income tax using … Individual Taxpayer Identification Numbers... employers withhold federal, state and local taxes… between half and three fourths pay federal and state income taxes, Social Security and Medicare taxes... real estate taxes… pay payroll taxes, and that they contribute US$6-7 billion in Social Security funds that they will be unable to claim” (as cited in Border Angels, 2010, Myth 2).
     Who is to question this “Rule of Law” that was made for the nativist intentions of harming certain individuals? The Declaration of Independence states that “whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it” (Declaration of Independence, 1776).  For that reason, our country is founded on the rule of fairness to all that have staked their claim in the future progress of America, including the many families that have been mutilated by the racist agendas of the nativist in power.
       In conclusion, I will not accept the hasty assumption that the nativist of the United States has the upper hand in their fallacious arguments and claims to “Rule of Law” when they seemingly are not following that same concept themselves. What about the moral obligation to the families that are being separated in the effort to obliterate the lives of the unauthorized person. Assimilation into our extremely diverse nation of The United States of America, and creating prosperity for our country, as well as blessings, of cultural blending and increased well needed work force is an undeniable attribute of the immigrant, not resting solely on color but on character. Everyone in America has many different cultures that make up who they are either by blood or by exposure that we are all not so different from each other. That is what America is. Immigrants are in a position of asking to be accepted rather than through the traditional birth rights. We should no longer deny their plight. It is not befitting for the immigrant to be cattled down the alleyways of racist manipulation for narrowest options of survival. What we are creating is an ideal situation for racial hate, when embracing diversity is America’s vibrant personality trait. The racist movement that is currently taking place in the United States against the Hispanic/Latino immigrant is being led by the infiltration of our government body to cater to the nativist power as the supreme and ultimate last word.

Bender, D. & Leone, B., (1992). Immigration, Opposing Viewpoints. Greenhaven Press, Inc San Diego California
Bender, D. & Leone, B., (1996). Interracial America, Opposing Viewpoints. Greenhaven Press, Inc., San Diego, California
Border Angels. (2010). Saving Peoples Lives, Making A Difference. Retrieved from
Bring Pedro Home. (November 2011). Pedro’s Return to Georgia. Retrieved from
Clark, D. (no date given). The Many Meanings of the Rule of Law. Retrieved from http://lfip,org/lawe506/documents/lawe506davidclarke.pdf
Declaration of Independence. (1776). Charters of Freedom. A New World is at Hand. Retrieved from
Painter, N. (2010). The History of White People. W.W. Norton & Company, Ltd., New York, New York
Racism. (2002). In World of Criminal Justice, Gale. Retrieved from
Smith, Lamar. (Sept 2010). Obama Is Our ‘Me First’ Point Guard, Especially On Immigration. Lamar’s Columns. Retrieved from

The Politics of Immigration and National Integration 1. (2005). In The Handbook of Political Sociology: States, Civil Societies, and Globalization. Retrieved from
The University of Arizona; James E Rogers College of Law; The Bacon Immigration Law and Policy Program, (May 2011) Disappearing Parents: A Report on Immigration Enforcement and the Child Welfare System. Retrieved on November 28, 2011 from
Trevino, Julissa. (November 2011). Children pack South Texas foster care systems after immigration enforcement claims parents. The Texas Independent. Retrieved from
United Nations. (2011). The Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Retrieved from

Sunday, November 13, 2011

My "truly wise" decision to move to Mexico, back in the day...

         I met Ricardo and we hit it off right away. Our eye contact took precedence over words and body language became our main form of communication. Call it what you like, but we were happy with each other.
        The ladies at my job in the big booming business of the third party administrator work comp insurance company were hesitant to congratulate me on any type of catch of any man being that they nursed me through the divorce that took on a life of its own. It was two years or so later, and I was feeling pretty full of myself with my huge selection of funky heels and dresses and my energy levels were at an all time high. The kids and I had a new apartment and I had it all shabby-sheik Florida style. We were living the Florida life with beach visits every weekend and not a care in the world, well except for little stuff like hitting the flea markets. I was a confident person and attentive single mom. I was not looking for love, it just happened one day unexpected but it started very passionate and stayed that way. We still kiss like it was the first, or last, with fire and ice. It is both unstoppable and undeniable.
           Meanwhile, as I am in love at first sight, and taking that to the ladies at work, what the hell am I doing with a man who lives with me and doesn’t work anyway? What right could I possibly have to justify that in their eyes? How dare I drop the curve in the grade to all women of the world? Unfortunately I did not really see the problem, so I stated my mind… “Look, I am picked up from work, my kids already in the car picked up from school, to go home to dinner on the table (delicious at that) and massages and sex and showers and smiles… and he is hot!” Why should I be bitching? I am guessing that the woman’s rights were meant to be more than this… more than ‘what’ was the question. In a few short years I dug myself and my children out from hell and it was time to just be happy without proving to someone that their measurements or normative standards were not mine. I was choosing life, and for the first time, it was my turn. Besides, did they have a hot guy sitting in their apt? Sorry but no. So who is using who? It was not like I was desperate, or lacking in opportunity. Shy or awkward are probably not the correct vocabulary either. A few years previous, yes… but now, I was full of spunk. It was just my life happening the way it should happen.
           When a woman finds herself at the end of a marriage, what sometimes happens is weight bearing guilt for the opinions of the outside world that seem to want to take away some part of that conquest that she herself had to partake in achieving. Granted, many divorces are happening without too much attention, but regardless, what do you feel about me when I say my first husband has custody of my first two kids, and my second husband lost his rights to our two, leaving me in an abuse shelter? Wow, what a screwed up woman… I am passed that phase of bearing everyone else’s shortcomings in accepting that at this point in my life. In other words, whatever makes you feel better (than I)?  I know what happened in truthful details, without escaping responsibility or blame or any other attention getting off the hook schemes that people come up with. I know, my ex knows, my second ex/childhood friend knows… and a handful might have a brief concept. A fat web has been strung around their lies and finger pointing to promote their innocence. I have learned to deal with the lot of it all and it was indeed not instinctual, but painfully and brutally learned.
          Ricardo was young, twenty five. He turned twenty six and I bought him a cake and a gold crucifix cross necklace that he still wears everyday. We invited all his buddies up to my apt. They were humble as they walked in, acting all shy, like it was a big deal to be invited into my place. Everyone took a slice of cake. One of the guys (boys really, so young) was excited and giggly in their Spanish of course I did not understand… he was going home the next day and was beside himself. I could see Ricardo’s eyes and feel his thoughts as he tasted this boy’s excitement too and longed to see his family. I think he felt comfort with me. I figured out why once I lived in Mexico awhile. There are many similarities between his family and me, both in attitude and appearance.
         His original apt dwelling was downstairs from mine that he shared with other undocumented friends. They were clean cut, did not do any type of drugs, family boys…roughly 7 or 8 of them. One of them had an American girlfriend, Hortensia, who found a bigger better place for everyone. Ricardo stayed behind with me, but we were at the house with his friends often. Gated housing plans are very common in Florida, especially ones that supply a pool for the plan. We were very happy to use our privilege to the pool. Once a woman was angry that we were there, perhaps a bit racist as she looked at my dark skinned friends swimming in “her” pool, no sorry we had the right to be there. She said something smart, and I returned the favor and told her to f off racist b. she called the cops. I had to tell our side of it, while my Spanish speaking undocumented friends sat and waited it out. She felt that we had jumped the fence, until the couple who actually had their names on the lease of the house showed and it was straightened out. That was my first real taste of racism by a stupid asshole. No one talks to my man like that, sorry but no.
         We went through the holidays, with our little fiestas of Mexican grilled food and salsa dancing on the back patio with our friends. Most of them spoke English, not perfect, but a couple of them did yes. We had a trampoline for the kids who were always with us. Ricardo took them under his wing immediately. He picked them up from school everyday a few hours before he came to get me at work. I know that I was certainly impressed. My ex called to tell me what a beep be beep beep beep...whatever words that I have chosen to block from my memory, as the phone rang over and over. Ricardo answered, spoke in Spanish to him. All his friends laughed of course. The ex called back and Ricardo said in his best English, “What’s your problem you stupid bitch she is my girlfriend.” My seven-year old looked at me and said, “mommy you’re dead.”  We were forced to go into hiding that next day because of death threats. Ricardo kept the kids for me for a week as we were not allowed to put them in the school because the school was afraid of my ex. We had to move them to another school and move our apt in a secret covert operation. My parents flew down to help us. My ex was fighting charges of stealing a car that he staked out my apt that following weekend of a friend of his from his church group who he conned into buying his flight from PA so he could come down and kill me. Nice. I’m glad he stole her car. Especially when I told her over the phone when she called to warn me that she bought him a ticket, I said, “You don’t know what you have done.” The lawyer Susan Chapman was quick to call her to tell her if anything happened to me she was going to be held as an accomplice. That was a nightmare. Through the entire screwed up two weeks Ricardo, who had no idea what the hell was going on really, helped with the kids and moved the stuff out and into our new place. I had a Spanish speaking friend at work explain over the phone to him that my ex was dangerous and to be careful and keep the kids out of public. We had to look over our shoulder all of the time, rear view mirrors, you name it. I was told to stay away from my women’s abuse group even because they were afraid he would follow me and hurt them all.
            We had our new place equipped with drafty windows and rotting wood walls and some type of flooding thing out the back door which was perfect for Ricardo who loved to pee and spit from the open door. Yes it is gross… it was private though. This place was bigger. We had more space than we needed… and these huge spiders too. The house across the street worked for or owned a carpet company. One day they had all kinds of remnants rolled outside and said we could have them, so Ricardo carpeted the entire place. It looked really nice. This little old couple down the street moved across the street and Ricardo said come on lets help them… so we did, our good deed of the neighborhood. They gave us their old washer dryer set. Our place was totally set up. Ricardo did a lot of yard work and made the outside look half descent. The landlord was a scuzzball. He was racist and made fun of Ricardo every opportunity he could. Ricardo was working part time in construction again and brought home a huge turtle for the kids. He built a big contained area for it. Their little neighborhood playmate, Estrella, lived on the other corner with a big grassy yard with good climbing trees. They forgot the turtle too long one day and he walked off.
         Our life was okay, but this apt was really too much for me. It was $150 more per month and the electric was running $250 a month. It was surely faulty wiring. Honestly the neighboring home was the landlord’s other rental and I think that he had me paying for both rentals’ electric. It was putting me into the position of not having extra money.
         I was pregnant. It was not a trick on my part and it was not him forcing himself into my life on his part. It was just a passionate thing that happened, say what you will. I lost the baby. I spent my birthday in the hospital with Ricardo by my side. The doctor said that the baby was 5 ½ weeks so there was no heartbeat detected so they said the baby may make it that it was hard to tell... I told Ricardo, “There’s a baby!” He was happy. The baby passed out in the toilet two days after.
          In the meantime there was a lot of talk about us moving to Pennsylvania. I felt it was time to be close to my family and I needed them. Ricardo changed my heart. He made me strong. I was able to face what was going on back in my hometown, what with all of the rumors flying with two failed marriages, with my head held high. Plus my children were waiting. We talked all of the time, and I visited as often as I could, but it was just time to move to PA. My heart was softened by my love affair and he gave me courage and strength in such a way that made me see things about life differently. We decided to take a little vacation up to check it out. We stayed over a week and during that time we ate at every Mexican restaurant in the area and then some. Ricardo made my family dinner one night and everyone thought it was delicious. We sat by the Christmas tree with sweaters on and puffy socks. He played in the snow with the kids. We opened presents. He met my older kids. It went rather well, the vacation.
         Once back in Florida, we started to discuss the option of living in Mexico. He got really excited at the fact that I would even contemplate it. I tried my best to learn Spanish while I took notes that he helped me with and walked around with headphones on that the Learn Spanish cassettes played over and over. He missed his family so much and I could see the depression setting in. Valentines Day came and he got me a ring, that I still wear to this day every day, some balloons and a bracelet. I got pregnant on that day, for the second time, a month after the miscarriage. It was not planned out, thought out, or anything like that at all it was just passionate and it happened, as it should be.
           Life went on, and I knew he was seriously considering the Mexico thing. He started to talk about it more and more often. I began to push back with the idea that we should move to Pennsylvania. This became a major topic of every day. Finally, in all of my will to win the argument, I found a privilege perch to where I became comfortable with saying to him “I am going to PA, you can come, or what, move with your friends?” My strategy was to get him to conform to my wishes with my weapons of trickery. Unfortunately, it did not work. He arranged a ride to Mexico.
           I had to go get some dental work done, a root canal. I stayed home from work that morning to go to my appt and we sat on the swing together and ate lunch before I went back to work. He said I am going to Mexico, I did not acknowledge it because I was not going to give into him getting out of going to PA with me.  We went into the house and he held me against the wall and kissed me so passionately. He was saying goodbye, but I had no idea. I came home to find his clothes gone and a note on the counter that he loved me and he would be back in two months and his sister’s phone number. I raced to the school to get the kids, and to his friends house, they were ‘just’ pulling away. I followed them and called him on my cell. “Where are you?” He said something that I don’t remember, and I told him that I was behind him. They pulled over, we talked. He came with me and we left and talked and he was decided to stay. His friends were at our house when we pulled in. I said “Ricardo what are you doing?” He said, I’ll be back in two hours, “I am going to help him with a job and I will come back.” At about ten that night I knew he wasn’t coming back. I smoked a million cigarettes and cried. At that time we did not know I was pregnant again. I sat on the swing outside with the little old lady that we helped move and went into shock.
        He called me early in the next morning. The caller Id had a Texas number on it, it was the cell phone of some coyote guy. I just wanted to die. We talked and I cried. He kept saying sorry. It was over this call and many following calls that we made the plan for me to go to Mexico too. The only problem was I had no idea how to do this. I got the passports started and arranged to sell my things. I had a yard sale that I sold all of my gorgeous clothes and shoes for a dollar each item. I sold all of my inherited furniture, my knickknacks, my flea market collections over the years of my single life with the kids…everything. What didn’t sell, I left behind, half in the house, half in the yard, for whomever…
        Ricardo and I talked every night with calling cards. I promised my kids that were waiting for us with high hopes in PA that we would live for a little while in Mexico, and we would be back, to live in PA...Then Ricardo and I tried to figure out how I was going to get into Mexico. We decided to include the guy who drove him down. But this weirdo ended up calling me in the middle of the night asking me what I was doing or whatever, so I figured I would be best to drive myself. In the past I drove from Florida to PA and back by myself straight though and many times in the past not by myself…I could handle it, I had lots of money on me for motels and whatnot. We would just take our time. Meanwhile the knowledge that I was pregnant of course was noted. I had a sonogram at 13 weeks, telling me that the baby was normal and a boy with an obvious third leg. My passports were expedited in a month, and we were there, after driving 3 days at pregnancy week #14.

Not so romantic of a thing now is it?
But yet it was… and still is.

Monday, November 7, 2011

Organizing my thoughts again... no syntax, no poetry, no grace, just rambling

     Ricardo and I left for Mexico unrelated to immigration issues and lived in Mexico, got a condo, married, had two more kids... then we realized that little bit of hope that tells you that there must be one more rock that you have not overturned came to the last rock... we, the kids and I, could not receieve residential status there as we were thinking that we would. The immigration people in Cuernavaca got sick of seeing us with my fumbling over the language I think. They told us that it would be easier and less expensive and more possible for Ricardo to immigrate into the USA instead, as "one" person to deal with for papers and expense of it, rather than "five" people to try to get the residency in Mexico.
     So in order for us to live together, it is the USA that we are trying to live in because that is our basic only option at this point.
     I tried the most expensive lawyer in Pittsburgh. I had a meeting with her in summer of 2008 in a high rise office. She said he will never be allowed in the States no matter what hardship I have because he was here more than once. We gave up for awhile and just kept living on tourst visas, travelling to the border every 6 months.
     Then I tried an even more expensive lawyer with a 3 hour drive to, and 3 hour back, to Philadelphia in spring of 2009. I thought maybe with the championship ego that pricey lawyers have, they could surely find a way to pull this off at all costs. I was pregnant with Catherine then. They said he could never come here, and advised me to have the baby in the USA. The pregnancy would not be a hardship. They said with 5 grande they could possibly get him availability for a 3 month visit. Of course my Dad who was with me that paid for the $350 consultation fee, scowled at that idea. My Dad was funny because he took a bunch of no doze and drank a lot of coffee for the drive, wore a business suit, and we had a moment when Eliott was all fussy in the meeting so my Dad took him out in the hall. He came back all sweaty. He said Eli freaked out worse out in the hall because he could not see me. My Dad had a heck of a time. He couldnt wait to get outside again. The meeting was not very good.
     So while my Dad is consistantly throwing in the point that our relationship is ridiculous and costing him money, hinting for me to divorce and move on, but still dealing with us at that time, Ricardo and I and the kids are truly bonding into this ideal family unit. We threw in the towel and decided we would move out of Cuernavaca into his parents' place in Jalisco. There was a room for us. We started to slowly move our stuff over the 9 hour drive. We accomplished taking down the bunk beds and moving them, all of our wooden chairs for the table, some clothes, beddings, etc. It was slow moving because of the expense of travel. Our minivan could only hold so much, plus bodies. We would sell our condo and use the money to start some kind of business in Jalisco. At least we had a plan to be together though.
       Now our house in Cuernavaca had limited furniture once again. We went for years without and we finally had got to the point where we had things in our house and now half of them were at his mom's house, so we were back to the kids having no bed and sitting "just anywhere" at dinnertime. My appendix rupturing and close to death experience gave my mind somewhat of a different "want" to live there. When Eliott was two years old, and thought to have appendicitis as he cupled over, that was all I needed to experience and that was the point when I said okay I am getting your papers in the USA at all costs.
     We came into the USA October of last year, enrolled the kids into American school for the first time since kinder/first grade in Florida. I was actually surprised how well they did with their peers here, despite the fact that their B average in Mexico most certainly was not the case here. Lots of adjustments, lots of hopes, I hired a lawyer locally and planned to lie on the paperwork so that I could get Ricardo here. We debated over the 5 year jailtime penalty of purjury, and I decided that the risk of the 5 years was worth it because it was that important that we were able to find stability.
     During this time the meeting of some people took place. For the past year I had been talking my ass off in the American Latino group that Traciy ran, that most of the names that I see floating around now were a part of. But then I started to meet others. I met Giselle and Benjamin, then Emily. The whole thing became more of a group effort than was me feeling blindly my way through the darkness on my own. Hardly anyone in the previous group was ever in Mexico, let alone living there. A few had, like Sarah... and Jill actually was my first FB friend as she wanted to write an article for a magazine and include my story. She did not do it I assume. At that time there was not all of this mayhem. Our stories have become compiled with a gazillion other stories, making them not so rare at this time.
    Then the group came into be and the unity of all and everyone became a foundation for us all to compare notes. After maybe 5 months of me trying to hint through posts how to get Ricardo to the states with out actually telling too much of our circumstances (because everyone said that the govt read FB and I did not want to risk my 5 years in jail as I was till in motion to lie on the papers at that time) a break, the truth revealed to me finally after years of darkness. One night on chat Krystal asked me the exacts, I told her exactly everything that was involved,  and she said that he can get a waiver now. We confirmed that the next day with Amy, and she directed me to the lawyer that I have now, my fourth lawyer attempt.
    The lawyer is an awesome young woman that too went through this situation personally so I have heard, and some of her clients are my friends. She sent me a note with a list of things. I planned on seeing Ricardo on a visit to Mexico in summer, so I told her that most of the things that she needed on the list I would get at that time and file the papers when I came back. Trying to hold a conversation with Ricardo over the phone is difficult, but to try to get a list of information from him with our language barriers, no no no. His sister gave me most of the information anyway because Ricardo flat out did not know it.
    So we returned in September and through my mass depression I finally got the packette of information together and sent it. That is why in a nutshell we are finally sending the I-130 in now even though we left a year ago to get the papers.
    Ricardo has been very patient and very depressed. My son who is going to be 4 in a couple weeks has emotional damage. I have aged like 10 years easy in this last one year. We have visited twice, once in Feb we went for a month (me and the babies only) and once in the summer for 2 months (me and all 4 of the kids).
    Our next planned visit for the babies and I is in December the day after Christmas thru to the second week in February - the day before Catherine turns two years, to avoid the paying of one more seat on the airplane.
    After that I am going to have to do an overhaul on the working mode and get super established here to prepare for the following months of paying out to the lawyer, the papers involved, the trip to Juarez for him at approx 2 grand... he makes 40-50 bucks a week down there, enough to cover things there, but nothing extra. That is up to me unfortunately.
     I am taking online degree classes to get an AA in Early Childhood Edu so that in case this waiver does not pull through I will have an option in Dec 2012 when I graduate which will be around the same time as the waiver results I think, to go to Mexico to teach and use my work visa to aquire the proper residency there and pull my kids through with me. At least it would be more of a possiblity.
     I think that living in Mexico is great and would do so for the sake of being a family no matter here or there at least we are together. There are many wonderful qualities living in Mexico. I have the option of trying my best effort at living in the USA as opposed to our previous plan of the 5 of us Americans living in Mexico without proper documentation as "illegals" the thoughts of my childrens' futures was a heavy weight to bear of course. Of course he absolutely refuses to move our family to the border dwelling situation.
     So that was a bit of rambling as I am so good at. But that is our confusing life. It is not the same as most people that we are surrounded with. It really doesnt have ties with the current immigration system going haywire, we are just looking for a place to live. Just one of those black cloud moments. However because of the situation, I have become a part of it because I am angry at the lack of concern for me and my kids personally as Americans. When I look at it from my eyes, despite what is the current news, I feel, and always have felt, that our situation has been ridiculously swept under the rug, as if we should just forget our rights and "go away silently". Now that there are so many others, hey, come on, something needs to change - Obviously!!! I am not "jumping on the bandwagon" no I am routing for my own family mainly... but in the mean time I have discovered that it really is more than what the general public "knows" - why? Because it is hidden information. Look how long it took for me to find out anything. Even the lawyers did not know what to do. Seriously? I thought I had to be alone in the move to Mexico because there was not a drop of information out there it seemed. So I am joining onto the "bandwagon" for the main purpose of educating the general public so that we all get our fair day in judgement from our peers, not our "dysfunctional owners" who are trying their best to take over my country, as has been the light shed upon me in this past year of living without my husband, thank you very much land of internet.

Sunday, October 2, 2011

Picking Out The Shrapnel.

       September is a month when I usually feel the ends brush against me. The end of summer's freedom to run, end of warmth as Pennsylvania goes cold, end of green as fall begins... this September was the end. But what was it the end of? No word to label this one really, just a deep gorge scarred into my nerve. An end to wholeness? No. I was not so whole before this. An end to sacrifical patience? No. I still have not an option for something lighter weighted to bear. Hmmm... Maybe aiming in the direction of control would hold a balance. I am limited, but as always I have been, the reality of it being a facad in my mind has been made clear. That is it! The end of control.
       With every end, there is a beginning. As I do not have control, then this opens the boundary for me to believe in many things that before we uncomfortable. I am finding that accepting that the polite gestures of acquaintances are meant only for their own boundaries and have nothing to do with me in all actuality, therefore freeing me, creating a beginning for me to break away from.
       The parenting of six children on my own has forced its poking rods into my soft shell this month. Granted my oldest two children live with my ex-husband, but that in itself comes with a history of reprocussions that lead to today's folly. He did not win them, but yet he has been awarded with his own self proclaimed Zues standing in our days of separated sharing of two lives. My middle two children I do have sole responsibility awarded to me, that I did not 'have' to fight for, or even ask for, as it was given to me with the added pencilled in words of the judge, "shared custody would be detrimental to the children," as concluded our divorce decree along with the permanent restraint order in effect for life. My two babies now living their existance out on the balancing act on the thin wire of border issues with their father a million miles away by order of the American public of which surrounds me now for nothing more than being the new fad ego booster to cut him to shreds of his dignity as a human and father, my husband.
    This month started with saying goodbye to my husband after a reduced family reality visit of two months that even though grateful for, I cannot help but feel cheated at the very subject being brought out of my mind to be the object of my thoughts. Why do we only "get" two months? Ask my family oriented government why. They seem to have all of the well equipped answers to everything. How could they not with two mouths talking at the same time covering all directions and rocks uncovered. Assholes.
    I arrived at the Pennsylvania nest and was invited to be placed on a chopping block of sorts among fellow searchers for justice, the immigration rights activists. Yes chopping block as it may seem to a woman skin so thin that it became see through. I became aware that the safe place was not so safe after all and that there was something to be said about myself that I am now choosing to guard. I have been reduced to a woman of few words even within my own space because if I am not conformed I will be disqualified according to the politics that we must remain "behind" and know our place. Even this simple paragraph will induce labor and birth of my rejection. For this, my control is handed over, my weakness, you may have, for I do not need it any longer. I am free of it.
     The summer of love was to be extended into fall and the call of my children in the States came with a razors edge in my stability. When I was a girl, my friend Nick committed suicide to the tiny disagreement of a father about college... a question of mortality impressed to an eighteen year old. And now there is my daughter, top of the class, accepted into one of the finest colleges with a scholarship, top of the Math and Latin Club in the area going for the six-year Pharmacy program, denied -by her controlling father nontheless. Smack and smash to what she was capable of. I had to return to ensure that her life would endure, as he is such an asshole.
     A red truck loves to pass our present nest, diesel of course because it sounds powerful. It is my stalker ex, father of the two middle children. He has recently found friendship with the house across the road and it beings much non pleasure to see his truck in their driveway with a group of guys in a huddle looking over at this house. He was made aware last Christmas to stay away from the elementary school from the school's prinipal. Our divorce unfolded in Florida, so I had to actually have the court in this state to call the school here, to explain that, "yes indeed that restraint order in front of you is in effect not one year, or three, as is custom, but it is in fact forever as marked, in their unbelieving eyes." His new wife is the PTA mom. They placed her three boys in the school beside our place even though their school is in a different district. I feel sorry for her the used woman. She must have credit though to afford him a shiny new red truck, how sweet. They came as a family to the recent open-house for parents for the new school year. Such arrogance at the disregard for laws. My son and I ran for the door as he, the ex stalker who happened to be my son's mystery father, was roaming the halls, certainly in search of confrontation. Assholes.
   Speaking of the law, two police cars pulled in looking for "two boys dressed in camo with a gun" as I replied, "oh, that's just my kid and his friend JJ -the gun is not real," as if the whole issue was a mistake. They shot a guy on a Harley with an air pistol. The guy actually chased the boys, but their camo gear ended up blending them into the brush. I am to appear before the magistrate to determine the fine to be paid from the bottomless pit of financial burdens that are well below even the normal electric bill, as low and behold we do not own lamps. We have been stripped of everything and to give more is a wonder that I am no doubt going to experience soon. How to handle the entirety of this circumstance with the pressure of the dam behind it all, alone.
    The process for my husband to come here has been initiated this month, for on my spare moments I gathered the "proof"... that belittled bit of "yes we are real"... with the acknowledgment that someone will read of our lives and pass judgement if we should remain married, or not. That burden of country over spouse placed on my will to gather the photos from my computer memory and disks from our entire past of hugs and kisses and parks and parties that were taken for the love of each other now used to "prove" that we are a real marriage. Nothing can be more demeaning than this. A demand from my own people that I am to feel for the patriotic tear in my eye, possesses burdens that I wonder if they could look passed their ego and sympathsize, or at least allow my husband safe passage. Of course, even with a safe passage, we are talking a possible two more years of this shit blizzard before it is awarded.
   Alone in parenting to some say, "no, you are not alone." Oh, but I am, friend. I am separated by the standard of my own country above it all, as my babies will testify to. My husband is not here - it is that simple. Ask our son who cries himself to sleep and wakes up in the night asking for his father. It is not imagination of any sort. It is virtual lack of control of my life.
    To this first day of the new month and placement of September behind me, I say thank you for one of the worst months in my life. A list that stems from loss, we have now lost control or willing to control or maybe awareness of not having control, derived from experiences of deeply rooted hurts. Despair? So silly to think that I am deserving. No. I still have my 4.0 and have kept my A. On drugs? No. Bad mom? Hardly. Ignorant and rude? Not really. Cheat lie steal, nope. Just a mom, saying goodbye to September 2011 with a smile of "meeting you was a pleasure that has knocked me into a different line of travel" that some folks do to you. I may be alone, but I am still a shining star in the galaxy protected by God. Seems ironic that my life is so shitty, but that is what happens in spiritual warfare, it gets a little dirty.

Conspiracy letter to classmates

     Last winter I said this same idea, without any proof, that the rich are doing this (our immigration woes) on purpose to widen the gap... I was told that no, it was the white supremacy and at that time introduced to John Tanton, which did make some logic... in the meantime all that has proven to me throughout the last year and as well as an actual face been placed on the rich, I do not think I was so far off of a thought. Proof has been quite abundant. Think what you will.
    The following is a letter to a classmate who has been pressuring me to tell him of the big conspiracy theory that I mentioned. This is on our class "wall" not private at all... risking being labelled crazy? Maybe.
I agree with your words.
There is something missing.
Some things are not to be logic.
That is not control and restraint,
But is a gift.   <---- this is pertaining to another discussion....
    So have you ever heard of the country loosing its middle class? Of course I am much older and I hate to even say these words, but "this one time in band camp"... kidding...back in high school in 86-88, I remember learning of the predicted fall of the middle class due to the baby boomers retirement and the available workforce would no longer be able to endure the economic challenges. hmmmm.... that was when I was young.
    ALEC formed its group in the 60s or 70s and it was just a table of important CEO types, business leaders, trying to make themselves feel important enough as people do... uniting their wills together. They would promote someone running for office, however, that guy would always loose. So they tried another approach. They invited the politicians into their table.
    Their group grew, as did their power. Today there are 2,500 political legislative lawmakers as members in their group, paying $50 / year due fees (sometimes with tax-payer monies). Companies such as Exxon, Chevron, Johnson & Johnson, every media, pharmeceutical, etc gosh I cannot begin to name them all, it is just about any company you can name basically... all members now. The fee for them due annually depends on how much they want involved, how deep their power is going to run... for example ten grand is nothing for Exxon to get there hands in the lawmaking ability of the big nature preserves and "go green" and save the planet movements.... worth it... then the basic "plan" for the average company is to be in their group basically "just because" of obvious cliche- got your back- reasons.
    A company called CCA is a privately owned prison company. They make $200 per day each inmate. CCA has their main office in Tennessee. They were the top contributor to Jan Brewer's campaign when she ran for Governmor in Arizona. She has two assistants that both are former CCA employees. Do you know who Jan Brewer is? Russel Pierce is the Senator for Arizona. He is friends with the head of the white supremacy. In a ALEC meeting in April of 2010, CCA, Pierce, and other ALEC members drafted the bill for the first movement anti- immigrant bill that went into effect, with follower states such as Georgia.
CCA's dollar amount made from the arrest, search, and ICE involvement to track down all undocumented, even family, is an extraordinary amount. There are prisons in Texas that have kept children, mothers are separated from their babies at night, (for years not days) many things that are wrong, deaths, neglience, etc.
This is why I know of ALEC... but there is more.
The media will only show one side, why is that? They are in ALEC.
    There are tens of thousands of Americans with a member of their family that has been affected, children without parents, children that have been taken into state custody and given up for adoption because their parents were deported... there is no remorse. And we are to be a country of family value. Okay.
      The bars placed on the return of a person that has been proven to be here in the past is anywhere from 10, 20 or lifetime bars. There is a loophole which is called an extreme hardship waiver. This is a pardon awarded with an expensive lawyer and if there is a family say wife and children, there is to be a proven hardship to the spouse, such as cancer and no one left to raise the children for example. It does not allow for mention of the children crying and depression provoked from being separated, as they can move/follow into the country of their parent. So American children are being forced into exile from their own country that they have rights of protection into countries that people are fleeing from. This is happening. However this is all fact and is not conspiracy....
Leading back to the first question. Do you know about the country loosing its middle class?
     Because I have felt and witnessed the power of ALEC I can stand by my conspiracy thoughts, even if radical.
      The immigration factor does what...brings more workforce into America. ALEC derives its power how? By being rich, by manipulation of the politicians. The politicians have who to please? The voice of the middle class, or the for the people by the people. You eliminate and trim and what is there... powerful rich big business and poor powerless masses of people. Do you see my point? Widen the gap as much as possible and quickly as possible. Politicians are looking more and more - what is the word... unworthy, dysfunctional, incapable, etc every year. Media controls everything including what we are thinking. The mindless masses have no clue that it is being taken away. They just follow along in a lulled false sense of security.
    They are prepared for financial uprisings which should be coming. These camps for the immigrants went from mid 40s to mid 70s in the past couple years, big money and large facilities. Conspiracy maybe... but I have seen so much proof of the financial gain of powerful big business. It goes beyond the border of America. Check it all out if you do not believe me.
       There that is what I know. I liked life better when I thought that George Washington was "the man" but now it is different. Now you will notice it. I have many links if you want to see things. But that will take some doing, I am not real organized like a big conspiracy cork board or anything, its all just things I think. Money and racism, its all hand in hand making the gap wider, eliminating the middle and gaining big bucks in the mean time. Yup! This has nothing to do with philosophy...
I do love this class. I drive everyone crazy with my analyzing... always did.  I thought I would make a good lawyer since I like to argue and analyze, but as you can see, did not do that. Just a mom.
Okay well I think that is all I got for now. I know it sounds like nutso political hogwash... its fine, my mom does too.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Tired of Enduring the Paranoid Fear

Today a man stood in my kitchen. He was dressed in fluorescent yellow, wearing a hard hat. We had just finished a bath and the two my babies were at his feet, dressed in nothing but their underpants. It is mid morning so I am in progress of our household routine. I have every window open, and every door unlocked. The garage is facing the morning sun which is shining in with the fresh air as I continue to load the washer and dryer that dwells.
     “Hey I just wanna let you know I am turnin’ off your gas mam, okay? I see your meter is runnin’ real fast and I just wanted to make sure that you weren’t cooking somethin’.” He stood there in my kitchen, beside my glass top stove. I stop dead in my tracks, not expecting to look up from my fast paced strut that I acquire while I am on the house cleaning mission of the morning. My clothes are half together, for I am not expecting company today. I make eye contact with this man as he renders me helpless, as I assess the situation with my children, who are both standing at his feet looking up at him.
        “Okay no problem…” is all that I can manage to say. He stalls a minute, then turns, walks out the back door and goes off into the woods behind the house.
    There is not a  “gas” van or car on the road, no ID, no knock, just a man in my kitchen with my babies. Immediately I close everything, locks in place, and finish cleaning. Thoughts run through my imagination. “Have I attracted the white supremacy, government, some weirdo in my blogs or in my school as I try my best to educate people on the fact that their beliefs are based on half truths?” I wonder if it is worth it all. Then I remember my past.
    I lived for years in confidential addresses with my two middle children because my ex-husband wanted me dead. Our “case” or should I say our lives, were so attractive to the various agencies that stepped in to evaluate and analyze our predicament that we were living in. My ex-husband was my neighbor-boy, lifetime friend, who had gone off of the deep end. He was addicted to pain killers of every shape color and content for almost three years heavily, as in, he could not make it through each day without worry of the six or seven pills of “whatever effect” that would wear off in a couple hours that he would need to ensure that there would be more waiting. Our family was revolved around his habit. We walked on eggshells, and in poverty because in the street drug world, “one” pill can be anywhere from five to fifty or more dollars depending if it is a roofie, vikes, zaney bar, oxy, blue morphine, perks, valium, demerol, darvies, selmas, kolatapin, on and on and on…. Like I said depends… I knew from looking at him what he was on and approximately how much and the dollar amount that would have been gone, for years… I was aware of my surroundings at all times. I had to be sure of my safety. There was never a set rule to follow. The rules changed every day. I only had to do one thing, and that was to not feel. When I felt something, my eyes would express that, and that was my folly. His twist on destroying anything that lived inside my soul was relentless and I knew to keep my soul as far away from the surface as I could, acting as if in a play, every day of my life… never crying or showing anger, no happiness or laughing… only complete and careful manipulation in order to stay alive literally. 
     Then he switched to crack which anyone who knows, the power of the pain killer addiction is the most powerful addiction to overcome, almost impossible. However if a person smokes enough crack, somehow it can wipe out the pills eventually. He had this new guy around (who eventually OD’ed and died), who was about five foot four, long stringy black hair, with a wife that was known to give head out back of the bar. She was toothless and a crack head. We used to have to go to the bar, with my kids, to check in on the weird friends of his in the roadside Harley bar, with at the very least one hundred bikes parked outside. Around back of the bar was a campfire that seemed to burn nonstop. I sat with the babies on a log, while he did whatever he had to do. This guy had a huge knife collection that he displayed just as my ex had displayed a different piece of a rifle or shotgun that were throughout our home, leaning in every corner. There seemed to be a common interest between them of their weapons, constantly cleaning and stroking them, possibly wishing to use them. This is all but a small fraction of exposure to the dark side and a passing moment of our entire history. I think it was worse when we were actually in the car and he would pull into the worst slum neighborhoods, pick up some random guy on the corner, and drive to wherever, especially when he would get out of the vehicle and go inside. What a vulnerable feeling that is. He has had fights through car windows, guns pulled up to his head, and still he felt we were a normal family… I could not wait to be free of it.           
     Life was full of entanglements of society. Concrete truck arrived one morning on time and it was poured into the form that would be the base for the enormous water fountain that was due to be delivered from Europe for this new condo neighborhood in Florida. It was a wealthy establishment construction taking place throughout.  The plans for the fountain were to be at the entrance, in the circle drive in front of the clubhouse, and then another pad in the courtyard within the center of the clubhouse for another smaller fountain. That’s all that we had to do… “get ‘er poured”… however, the important thing was for it to be precisely level to hold the enormous fountain. My ex was on a binge and as many times before, had no help because of an undependable crew and his troubled guidance over them. He spent the night smoking crack so in the morning, there was me, stuck with helping him in all of his fragile glory, pour this big money job. We got the concrete down, the babies sat and watched, as did about six or seven men in business suits. I kept looking over at him and he was sweating profusely. There had been several occasions that he had heart palpitations for hours on end after his binges, so I was wondering if he would fall over dead. Then he said “I’ll be back” and off he drove in the truck.
      Time went by and my kids were bored. They were only maybe two and three years old, out there with their mom trying to think of what the hell she was going to do… I had to handle the concrete many times before this so I knew how, but I was not on the same level as he was in skill, which was top notch, as to why he got so much business. The time came to start the straight edging and toweling of the concrete, after I ran the bull float over and let it set up first,  all the while these men in suits watching me, whispering, looking concerned. I tried not to show it though, especially when the kids kept running off. I would glance up to see if the truck was back, but he never came back. I had to finish the job acting like I knew what I was doing, talking the language of men, with quick concentrated moves of finesse.
        I received a call a week later telling me that the fountain arrived and the pad was not level enough and they wanted it to be re-poured. I said to them that the money that they paid him had been long gone. The threat of lawyers and credit were mentioned but my only answer was “You are going to have to stand in a long line.” Pressures build when you are the only parent making the responsibility calls like dinner and bills and normal society functions. Add that with a huge guy that was consuming everything in his path like an F5 intense funnel of furry, telling me calmly, “You know that if you leave, I will kill you,” out of the blue, as it were normal conversation in marriage. He could possibly see from an outside point of view that we were horribly abnormal and antisocial with our Bonnie and Clyde personality disorders.
      There were may nights that he would never return home from work, instead he would show the next morning or in the middle of the night, wide eyed, on a thousand dollars worth of crack, fragile and weakened by the let down of the euphoric past twelve hours. He always had a woman accompanying his binge, and most of the time I knew which one he manipulated at the time. This may be why we had to keep moving around so much… other than the obvious evictions. His concrete business and ability to sell awarded him endless supplies of large amounts of money. I was owned, and could never leave, and I was made aware of that every day.
    The downfall that brought window of opportunity was that while he was weakened by his addiction, I was strong, patiently watching him, waiting for my time to go, every minute of every day, day after day, year after year. His mother came to stay for a holiday. He and his sister, a child protective agency case worker with a Masters degree in psychology, were on a binge together, constantly disappearing, while I was left to entertain the mother with my children. She was dysfunctional herself with a love of Stoleys, however, unaware of the depth of the true situation with her own children. Turkey dinners with family, complete with the trimmings of table placement and side dishes, can bring long distant relative visits a feeling of love and bonding with their children. So when she handed him a twenty to go pick up a turkey baster around , I knew something that she did not. She just left the gate open and he ran for it. We did not see anything of him until the next day, Thanksgiving was over, and he was weaker than ever, with now his mother’s attack. I had my chance and I took it. After she left town, I contacted someone to help me and I was put into a confidential address for the following year. His rights were taken from him in all aspects, he stalked me, he installed fear into every lawyer and county agency that worked with me and most would only come to me because they did not want me to be seen coming in and out of their offices, because of him - including the psychologist that took my case only because I fell apart in his office. He was only to evaluate me for the drugs that were in our family life, to see where I fit in, and concluded that I had no addictions, but had some deep trauma of abuse. He took every Friday morning for three hours for six months to talk to me or listen to me. He also evaluated my ex as psychotic when they caught up to him on one of his multiple stops in the local detox, which is where his divorce papers were finally sent. The counselors at the shelter installed the paranoia that protected me, telling me how the last girl in a similar “owned” situation three years before was without children because her husband murdered them to hurt her, on Christmas, that was who they compared us to… the woman that I was without anything left of myself. I was owned.
    Since then I have had another life full of immigration woes and foes. Tired is the only word that I can think of… wondering when I can just relax already. I used to walk through my life scared; I never went in public because of fear of him being there. I kept the curtains drawn, the kids inside, and many things – too many to list - to ensure our safety.
     And now this man stands in my kitchen. The size of his body is not something that I would be able to overpower even on a good day. I am reminded of my paranoia from the past, the life of living in fear, of constantly looking in the rear view mirror, of scanning every store upon entering, of hurrying across wide open spaces, and always with an eye on the babies, no matter where we are, holding them close. We have been through so much. It continues to be victim and player, just line ‘em up it seems…I am so numb.
       Now left with decisions of tomorrow, how far do I take the argument against so many who insist that our survival as a family with an immigrant husband do not make it. It crosses my mind of the stories I’ve heard. I guess we will be ok.
I do not want to live paranoid. I just want a normal life, with a house that has a fence around the yard and a swing set in the back and lots of flowers, fruit trees, and pets.

I really miss Ricardo, and wish he were allowed in the country to protect me, laugh with me, cry with me, "us," his family that he loves, so much. (ugh)

Monday, September 12, 2011

Beginning Prayer

February 1st
Please God, help us to know your will, gently direct us on the path that leads us to you.
Use me to help provide wisdom to those people who do not understand the hearts of the family of the undocumented Americans. Please give me the words for hope for my friends.Help us to forgive the government for wounding us so deeply and personally. I hope you will keep me and my family and all my friends' family safe from the white supremacy people too. Please show us the right way to go about doing your work and let your love move through us.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Do you wanna dance?

        The following is a research project that I wrote for an English class this past spring. I felt the need to share this morning with more people than just the English teacher and teacher's assistant. It is factual and cited information. My view on the deception of why the public is not aware of need for family unity, despite America having the apparent perception that the United States is family oriented, and how we continue to struggle with getting our stories in the media for that public support, as fellow American brothers and sisters.

Immigration: Social Media’s Taboo Topic
        Children are often self-centered, opening doors for fairytales; just as with age, brings experiences of mistrust, broken dreams, and painful realities that break the hope of happy endings.  The demand for family unity within immigration reform is fought by the child-within those who are the oppressed—counting on the magic of wishes.  A concept of freedom in America is handing those who reside within, freedom to search and love their soul mate.  It is one of many differences from the other countries of the world, as such is freedom to seek opportunity.  Every religion in America, although diverse, harbors the American lifestyle value of the importance of family; just as the most heinous crimes committed in America are against family and its values in every sense.  Why then is America turning its head away from the need for family unity through immigration reform?  In today’s social media from television, and radio broadcasts, to written articles, are feeding the American public, in regards to the topic of immigration reform, a narrow margin of words used repeatedly such as illegal, criminals, and deportation. If the truth were known, what would America do?  This is the research of data, to formulate a conclusion for the public, to make an informed decision.
        The value of family unity and the separation or break down has been discussed within America’s walls frequently.  The right, the human right, to love, to raise, and to protect our families within the protection of the American government has been flat out denied, and has been remarkably supported by the media.  The media has proven to side with those who claim to be true Americans, while at the same time denouncing our plight as to say that we are traitors to the American dream.  Our families’ value should hold more value than the monetary gains of the enormous hand of power that holds the media from informing the public of their personal agendas.  In America, the popular social media brings influence and information to the American people and without the support of the people through the portrayal of the American value of family unity through immigration reform, the high stakes that have been placed in order for the families involved to live together, is a battle, seemingly against the monetary and sometimes racist gains of powerful entities, and the use of their power to subdue the media, ensuring the direction of their own falsely claimed American agendas.
     “How is it fair that a truly committed, honest, hardworking husband and father could be taken away from our family?  Why is it that my government that was made to protect my rights and support me, could do something to rip apart my family and bring us all to the depths of despair?” (Guzman, 2010)  Emily Guzman watched in horror as two SUV’s pulled up and drove off with her husband in front of herself and son in front of their home on a Monday morning.  The importance of family unity has been discussed within the United States. Family is the base of the American dream.  As the United States Department of Welfare advocates within the guide lines of the importance of the father to the health of a child’s well being, “even from birth, children who have an involved father are more likely to be emotionally secure, be confident to explore their surroundings, and, as they grow older, have better social connections with peers.  These children also are less likely to get in trouble at home, school, or in the neighborhood.” (Rosenberg, Wilcox, 2006, Chapter 2.3) “The only contact Pedro, I, and Logan have together, on a regular basis, currently and for the last 9 months, are phone calls.” (Guzman, 2010)  Unfortunately, at 9 months when Emily made this statement, was less than half way of the total amount of time her family endured this separation.  A recent report established by the University of Arizona on the parents that are placed into the immigration enforcement arena noted,
 “…parents [that] are caught up in immigration enforcement are separated from their young children and disappear into the detention system… the children may be placed in state custody and find themselves in foster care, abruptly unable to communicate with their parents or even know where their parents are.  If parents choose to accept their deportation, they risk being forever separated from their children, since their children will unlikely be unable to accompany them so long as they remain in state custody.  If parents choose instead to fight their deportation, they often remain detained for months or even years, greatly complicating efforts to reunify as a family…”(Rabin, 2011)
     Throughout the history of the United States firework displays, families have gazed upon them together, under the protection of the government, until now. As of 2005, there were 6.6 million families in which either the head of the family or the spouse was unauthorized. There were 3.1 million American children with an unauthorized parent. These unauthorized families contain 14.6 million people. (Passel, 2006)  By spending pleasant, positive time together families build up a reserve of good feelings.  When trouble comes, it has to be shared, with the family, and resolved.” (McGee, 2009) “…I am a mental health therapist.  I treat people with depression and anxiety every day…the common thread is that in their childhood, they felt unsafe, unloved, or abandoned by one or both parents.” (Guzman, 2010)  “When the family is not together, “holding” the missing person in the light and consciousness of the ‘family-being’ can be very significant and powerful.  When a young child goes off to school … or playgroup, when a parent travels, when older children go off to university, they can be ‘held’…” (McNamara, 2004)     
        Sometimes, it can be a compelling story of love and commitment against all odds.  When few Americans break past the silent wall of a people that carry the cultural trait of shielding themselves on a personal level to guard against the wrongs of the world, there is a new discovery, a treasure uncovered.  What has been discovered by some Americans is that beyond the image of the man on a donkey with a sombrero taking a siesta, there is the beauty of a person, equal on all levels, hidden in this unknown mass of people that live among us in America.  Have we lost the interest in our neighbors only of that to which we love to destroy?   
      In a survey that has been conducted among families separated by lack of family unity within the immigration reform for the purpose of this research, fifty- five people responded, all of which are being affected by the current range of problems associated with the lack of concern in the trampled personal rights to be endured and solutions pursued.   The Declaration of Independence states, “That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.” (Declaration of Independence, 1776, para: 1) Families have the right to be protected by our government, but yet many of them are being sent to live “in exile” to their spouse’s country of origin, with the common knowledge of that country as unsafe to American travelers, especially with small American children. 
      The first part of the survey that was given was answered by 48 people.  This was to determine the detail of the situation as it pertains to their families’ unity.  Women, as the American enduring displacement due to the legal documentation status of her husband, counted for 45.83% over the American male standing at 4.17% in regards to displacement due to their spouses’ legal documentation status.  The remaining 50% were currently living together as a couple without any type of displacement issues as of yet, however, living in fear within the United States, that according to one women, “we live in fear everyday that it will be the day that my husband does not come home due to immigration.” 
      The second set of survey questions equate the government issued punishment placed on their spouse for residing within our country, without proper authorization.  This question was answered by 40 of the 55 people asked that live this life of need for immigration reform.  The people that have not received a judgment represent 27.5%, for they have not been through the detention enforcement court system yet.  For those who have received their ban issued by the court, there are 42.5% of families that have received a 10 year ban from the United States. Five percent of families that include American citizens have received a 20 year ban from the return to the United States.  A lifetime ban has been handed to 25% of these families of American husbands, wives, children who may never return to the United States.
         The final set of survey questions, answered by 51 of the 55 people asked who live the life in need of immigration reform, is to show the displacement of the families that have been affected by the ban placed on their spouse.  It shows that most families attempt to keep the family intact, even when it requires a location in another country, with a different culture, language, and economic status. We find that 43.14% of the families questioned have moved to their spouse’s country to live. Another option created is that of a move to a third country as a family with 5.88% of the families questioned with a guarantee of their right to flourish and grow together throughout their lives.  Many families have moved several times at 13.73%, leaving the impression that there is a possible hint of instability in the planning of their family unity, such as a hardship due to the complete disruption of their lives, which is not to be considered a valued reason by the United States court to place a hardship waiver on a ban. (J. Vaughan, July 2003) There are some families that cannot afford to be together, and so they live separate lives, while they wait out the number of years placed by the ban.  This percentage makes up 37.25% of the over all families surveyed.  Families that are not permitted to be together under the protection of our government—this is happening in our country of America.
                    The value of family unity as it is being portrayed (or lack thereof) within the popular social media, Giselle Stern Hernandez replies, “I feel that there are a lot of powerful stereotypes as to what a deported person’s spouse or partner look/thinks/acts/speaks.  There is a powerful gap in terms of race, class, and gender that renders the majority of us partners as invisible.” (G. Hernandez, Personal Communication, May 2011) Giselle speaks out in her Deportee’s Wife, One Woman Show. Within her monologue, she tells the story of falling in love with her Mexican-born husband, and “recounts how in 2001, [her husband] married to her but without a valid visa, was during a single shattering day discovered, deported back to Mexico, and barred from re-entering the U.S. for 20 years.” (McGill, 2009, Extreme Example) During a show in Austin, Texas, at the Riverland Community College, “…she found herself standing before a crowd of 120 people, including four neo-Nazis.  Sitting [about] ten feet ahead of her in the theater’s front-row-center seats were two men and two younger companions wearing black stadium jackets and T-shirts emblazoned with symbols of the National Socialist Movement, a group that advocates the deportation. “Peacefully or by force,” of all people in the U.S except citizens of ‘pure White blood.’” (McGill, 2009, para: 5)
     Studies have shown that there is overwhelming evidence of the media being influenced by the corporate power.  One study done by George Farah and Justin Elga formed the conclusion through simply reading every transcript of the Sunday morning talk shows of NBC (Meet the Press), CBS (Face the Nation), PBS (McLaughlin Group), and ABC (This Week) for 19 months.  “Sunday morning political talk shows promise to clarify the weekly issues and provoke the engaged citizen – healthy ingredients for a functioning democracy.  Yet, as our numbers demonstrate, the shows’ narrow parameters of discussion not only fail to fulfill their potential, [All top 20 guests from June 1995 to May 1996, were white men, with less than 11% women, and 14 of 20 were Republican or conservative] but skew the public and elite opinion-making conversation away from the impact of corporate behavior.” (G. Farah, J. Elga, 2001)
During a radio talk show that Benjamin Reed (Elchupacabras) invited Senator Crapo of Idaho to discuss the “different procedures through the federal government in [the navigation through] the very bureaucratic process of [immigration paperwork].” Benjamin Reed expresses that he is himself living in Mexico, dealing with immigration papers, for his own wife. Benjamin and the Senator discuss the present day situation with comprehensive immigration and Benjamin points out to the Senator that even though the Senator may say that he would agree with a fair means of family unity, he cannot seem to find words to Benjamin’s acknowledgment of the 10 to 20 year bans placed on spouses of US citizens, other than that they need to do it legally. “There should not be favor given to those who have committed the crime of presence in the United States without proper authorization,” seems to be the Senator’s stand, but yet, as Benjamin points out, “exactly what will be done with all the people that are already a part of this situation has not been addressed and there certainly needs to be some type of fair opportunity given to them” (Live interview Benjamin Reed with U.S. Senator Crapo, 2010). Benjamin has moved on and has accepted his new life in Mexico, but says, “I continue the fight; I have not given up, since we are NOT ruling out reapplication at a later date.” (B. Reed, Personal Communication, May 2011)
     The American Legislative Exchange Council is a group that unites state lawmakers…it claims 2,000 or a full third of the nation’s state legislators, as members… with an impressive roster of the nation’s largest corporations.” (Hodai, 2010, para: 1) The council is a 501(c)(3) tax-exempt nonprofit.” (Hodai, 2010, Para: 3)   The group reported revenues of nearly $7 million in 2008, with the legislator and lawmaking members contributing $93,000 and the interest groups contributing roughly $5.6 million.(Hodai, 2010, para:3) “While ALEC refuses to make public full lists of either its corporate or government members, the group’s magazine Inside ALEC, has mentioned members in the field of media and information technology that include the News Corporation, Comcast, Time Warner Cable, Cox, AT &T, Verizon, National Cable and Telecommunications Association (of Disney Media Networks is a member).  As such, ALEC represents the interests of most major media conglomerates and telecommunication providers in the country.” (Hodai, 2010, para: 4) This shows the connection to the control of the media through the obvious needs and wants of the American Legislative Exchange Council’s members’ agendas, helping to promote propaganda and lack of honest coverage of the need for immigration reform and family unity.
      We need immigration reform.  There are quite obviously families that are desperate for their fellow country-men to listen or notice that there is an unspoken injustice occurring within our country.  Darrel Weiss of George Mason Law says, “… [the fact that] immigration law and policy remain important and pertinent issues in our time, is hardly a principle that needs repeating.  And yet, much of the law governing the administration of our immigration system exists in a state of disrepair: a mere glance at the newspaper would be enough to remind even the most unaware of citizens of this fact.” (Weiss, 2010) Why is the media not covering the obvious? What is the hidden agenda behind the doors of the American big business that are keeping the media from exposing to the American public that the very value that our country has stood to uphold, our families, is being misrepresented by the media because of big business ties and big profit?   The study of the Disappearing Parent specifically expresses the need for reform even within the system of the coordinating offices of the Immigration Enforcement and the Child Welfare System.  They express that there needs to be set into new policy, which has been noted in each office as ‘needed,’ but have yet to do anything, for there are several opportunities for managing the lives of parent/child separation due to detention, such as training the workers, coordination with case plans when a child is put into state custody, legal orientation to explain the parents’ rights to their child, and legal aide provided to parents of US citizens. The last and most important of the suggestions, which is aimed directly to the  United States Congress, would be ending mandatory detention and to increase relief from deporting parents with children in state custody [due to detention].(Rabin, 2011) The problem with these obvious and logical solutions is that there is something standing in the way of this humane reform. The media could express the truth, forcing efforts to initiate fair and opportunity towards family unity and the American people as a whole could be aware. Perhaps it would change the outcome of the vote, the seats in office, the lives of millions of families and this may disrupt the corrupt nature of the agenda that the corporate business plays in the hand of the immigration reform. Corrections Corporation of America (CCA), a member of the American Legislative Exchange Council, reported earnings of 40.3 million dollars on revenue of 428 million dollars in the first quarter of 2011…CCA’s revenue for 2009 was 1.7 billion dollars. (Cardinale, 2011, para: 13). “One of the national lobbying groups that were instrumental in bringing together business interests and lawmakers was the conservative American Legislative Exchange Council (ALEC).  It was an ALEC task force, which included a representative from a private prison, along with lawmakers from Arizona and other states, who helped draft Arizona’s immigration bill [SB1070] which became a template for Georgia’s law as well.” (Cardinale, 2011, para: 9-10)  The bill and its meaning and support are moving from state to state presently.  “CCA is one of the largest for-profit prison corporations in the U.S.  They will benefit by the legislation.  They have a corporate stake in it around the country.” (Cardinale, 2011, para: 6-7)  “CCA’s top management is Tennessee contributed the largest block of out of state campaign contributions received by Arizona’s Republican Governor, Jan Brewer.  Brewer employs two former CCA lobbyists as aides, who assisted with signing Arizona’s SB1070 into law.” (Cardinale, 2011, para: 15)
    Abraham Lincoln stated, “We, the people are the rightful masters of both Congress and the courts, not to overthrow the Constitution, but to overthrow men who pervert the Constitution.” (J. Dearmore)  How different would the average American approach the subject of immigration if they knew how the family value is being torn down without compassion within our country’s walls?  How would the effect of the knowledge of the money making circle of CCA, ALEC, and related shareholders hold to the average American’s heart when they would find out where all of the media’s propaganda directly came from, of course other than with the added help of the white supremacy’s aide. Would it raise question to the appropriate direction of our country, with the big corporate business standing above the people for which the Constitution was drafted? According to the American dream it is to be the American people as a whole, however there is a real imbalance of truth being portrayed in the media coverage. The media is being geared to cover the back of the big business and the big business is covering the back of the private prison industry. The private prison industry is then making a huge amount of money and making contributions to lobbyists.  The lobbyists have the added support by the white supremacy, are working to change the laws so that the undocumented person has no place to go but detention centers.  The detention centers yield big profit for the private prison business, which is backed by the American Legislative Exchange Council.  But in the end, the people who are getting hurt, are the families of the people who love America and the average American who places his or her faith in the American system that the right for protection will be granted.  The devastating separations and dividing of the families that depend on America for protection are at a loss because they have been put into a shock of unforgiving treatment, labeled criminal, for something that has always been a way of life in America. The American public should be aware of the total of the facts in order to make an informed decision. In America, the popular support of the people through the portrayal of the American value of family unity through immigration reform, the high stakes that have been placed in order for the families involved to live together, is a battle, seemingly against the monetary and sometimes racist gains of powerful entities, and the use of their power to subdue the media, ensuring the direction of their own falsely claimed American agendas.

Special thanks to Melanie:)

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