Open Borders Now

During the lead-up to the presidential election I felt paralyzed by the fear of what might happen. Now that Donald Trump will actually become president, it is more important than ever to speak out for what is right. And that means arguing for open borders instead of building higher walls.

I have often asked myself idly, when my mind runs away with itself, what I would have done during the time of slavery in the United States, during the days of the underground railroad. Would I have sheltered the runaway slave, helped her on her way to the North, to freedom? Or would I have left to others the dangerous, illegal, yet indisputably moral work of providing safe passage to fugitive slaves, denounced slavery with my words but not my actions? I hope I would have opened my home to those fugitives from injustice, not just spoken empty words against slavery while I lounged in the shelter of my white home.

For some time, I have felt that the path of migrants from Central America and Mexico to the United States is the underground railroad of our time. Men and women who can no longer bear the conditions in which they live—the low wages, the long hours, sometimes the violence—make the difficult decision to grab whatever they can carry on their backs and run, in the dark of night, for the North, el norte, the land where they hear they can live freely. These migrants ride a network of actual freight trains known as la bestia, the beast, toward the north, where perhaps they can make better money, find a better job, send for their families, not have to fear for their lives. The journey is dangerous. They may not make it. They may get caught by la migra and sent back to their low-wage jobs, their impoverished homes, or their deaths amid gang violence. But the risk is worth it for the possibilities that await.

I have helped migrants on today’s underground railroad—given food, clothes, first aid, friendship, even a cell phone. I spent a summer in Nogales, Sonora, Mexico, aiding migrants on their way to the north (and those who had been deported from there). But just to help people come north is not enough. The journey is not over once migrants reach U.S. soil.

Even once they reach the United States, manage to settle down, hopefully get a job, today’s undocumented immigrants are not completely safe. They are still treated as second-class citizens—or rather, not citizens at all. Congress holds plenary power over immigration, which means that Congress can apply laws to noncitizens—undocumented immigrants—that cannot constitutionally be legally applied to citizens. Thus, ironically, although migrants may seek greater freedom in el norte, their position can actually become more limited when they arrive in the United States, for they do not receive the same protections as U.S. citizens. Today’s undocumented migrants, having broken the law by entering and thus remaining in a limbo, “illegal” status, can be incarcerated indefinitely in detention centers, forcibly removed from the nation, and refused the rights given to American citizens. Like runaway slaves in the North, who could be caught by a fugitive slave catcher at any time and shipped back to their former owners in the South, undocumented immigrants who are caught by the Border Patrol can be deported at any time, regardless of how long they have lived in the United States or whether they have committed any actual crime. While deportation is justified on the grounds that undocumented immigrants broke the law in coming to the U.S., we must question the basis of very laws they have broken.

Defenders of restrictive border policy and immigration law may remind us that migrants are free within their own countries to work and move as they please, just as U.S. citizens are in our own country. Therefore, limiting the right to work for a fair wage or the right to government protection to U.S. citizens and denying such rights to undocumented immigrants is not unfair; they have those rights in their own country. Yet why should we take it for granted that people born in a nation where the minimum wage is approximately $3.54 a day (73.04 in MXN) should not be allowed to move to a country where the national hourly minimum wage is more than that? If I, a U.S. citizen, have a right to make a living wage, then someone born in Mexico or Honduras should have that right as well. If I, a U.S. citizen, can travel freely to another nation, then people in those nations should have the right to travel to my country as well. If we as Americans truly believe that all people have certain inalienable rights and that all people are created equal, then we need to end a system of border enforcement that provides certain individuals—citizens, and wealthy people who can afford to pay for expensive visas and meet the income requirements for work or travel visas—the right to movement and, thus, the right to self-determination, while denying that self-determination to people who are not born in the U.S.

The border is not an unchanging, God-given reality. The border is a man-made creation that has been moved multiple times in U.S. history. Just as slavery was an artificial division based on race that was designed to legally exclude certain people from self-determination in order to keep a captive labor class for the wealthy white planters, international borders are in the words of border scholar Reece Jones “artificial lines drawn on maps to exclude other people [noncitizens] from access to resources and the right to move.” By relying on an arbitrary border to define who has a legal right to enter, to work, and to live in the U.S., American citizens can keep wages high for citizens and legal workers and low for undocumented workers. They can constantly hold the threat of deportation over undocumented workers within the U.S. in order to keep labor costs down. Because undocumented immigrants are noncitizens who have “broken the law,” we can justify denying them citizenship and thus denying them equal rights.

Is this so different than the economic system of slavery? The American economy has always depended on low-paid (or unpaid), imported, and racialized labor in sectors such as agriculture, construction, and domestic service. In this labor market, some workers—the free whites, or the citizens—benefit from the system and advance socioeconomically, while others—the black slaves, or the noncitizens—are systematically forced into low- or nonpaying, undesirable jobs. In antebellum America, many domestic workers and farmworkers, at least in the South, were African American slaves. Today, many domestic workers and agricultural laborers across the nation are unauthorized immigrant workers from Latin America. Because these individuals are unlawfully present “aliens,” employers feel free to exploit such workers without fear that the laborers will report this exploitation or seek better working conditions. If the workers do complain, the migra can send them back to Central American or Mexico, where they will be forced to labor for even lower wages, in lower standards of living, and may be at higher risk of political or gang violence. Legally, they do not have the right to work or the right to even reside within the United States that citizens do. Everything they do can be criminalized; their very presence is considered an illegal act.

Thus today, as in the era of slavery, the U.S. relies on a racialized labor force that is legally denied the rights of full U.S. citizens. Just as in antebellum America, a legal system based on an arbitrary characteristic of birth—once skin color, now location—is used to protect the economic interests of citizens at the expense of another group.

Today’s system can be justified, as noted above, by recalling that undocumented immigrants do have rights within their own countries. They do not begin as slaves, and I do not suggest that their position is indistinguishable from that of slaves. There are differences. But we cannot congratulate ourselves on abolishing slavery and yet still systematically deny rights to some people based on arbitrary characteristics of birth. Rather than a national system that denies rights of freedom and self-determination to certain people based on the color of their skin, this is a continental system that denies rights of movement and self-determination to certain people based on their place of birth. Instead of being based on the national law of slavery, it is based on the international law of citizenship. Yet the result is still that some people in the U.S. do not have the same rights as others.

We can only have a truly equal society, internationally and within our own borders, if we grant the same rights to people from any nation. This means open borders. We cannot continue to enforce a policy of discrimination based on birthplace, a characteristic as arbitrary as skin color. People cannot change where they are born and more than they can change the color of their skin. But they should be allowed to move freely over the earth, the planet we all share, to seek opportunities and control their own destinies. Allowing some people, those born in wealthy nations, to travel freely, while restricting those born in undeveloped nations to places with low wages, poor working conditions, and fewer governmental protections, is fundamentally unfair. If we truly believe in “liberty and justice for all,” then liberty and justice should not be restricted to people born within our borders. The right to seek liberty and justice wherever it can be found, on any side of the border, should be everyone’s right, no matter which side they were born.

“And by a miracle, I arrived”: Interview with Juan Carlos del Cid, Part Two

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Juan Carlos del Cid arrived to the United States from Guatemala in 1976, undocumented. Now he is a U.S. citizen and has lived here for longer than he lived in Guatemala. Last Monday, I published the first part of his story, how he came to the city of Los Angeles. This is the second part of his story, about his life in the United States. Juan Carlos’s story is not one of pure success, but it is a story of struggle and change for a better life. Everyone has the ability to change for the better, and everyone deserves the opportunity to do so. When the media and politicians spread stereotypes and prejudices about migrants, I choose to share this story with the hope that it shows the reality of the life of one real person who has been an immigrant.

Marjorie: You told me that you went to classes to learn English, right?

Juan Carlos: Yes. You want the other part, from here? Okay. I came here, and on the third day, where I arrived, my sister and I lived in a two-story house that was divided into apartments. And all the people who lived there were from my country, from Guatemala. From other parts of Guatemala I met them, and we were good friends. There was a man who lived there downstairs, we called him tío [uncle]. Everyone called him that. Because he lived with some nephews. The mother was married to the brother. And they called him tío, we all called him tío. His name was Abraham. I remember tío Abraham. And he’s a really good person, he said, “If you want I’ll talk to the manager. My sister was from Guatemala,” he said. And I tell him, “For what?” He worked in Jack in the Box. And, he took me and interviewed me. I had only been there for two days. And they gave me a job. And I remember that he told me not to park my car in the parking lot, because it was for the customers. And me, I told him, “I don’t even have a car!” I tell him. “Yes, but very soon you’re going to have one,” he told me. “You’re going to have a car. Here in the United States, a car isn’t a luxury, like in our country. It’s a necessity.” And I got the job, there it was, and I started to work graveyard. From 12 at night to eight in the morning I worked, for a year.

But when I started working, my sister, who lived there, urged me to go to school. And when I wanted to go to school for the first time, I was coming from work, and I had to go home. I was working in Santa Monica, I had to pass all of Beverly Hills, Olympic, before getting to Vermont I had to get off and walk a block to get to the house. And I get to the house when a minivan from Immigration goes by, it was there. And I was scared. At that time, when I arrived, Immigration went to the stops and would pick people up and take them away.

M: At bus stops [paradas de buses]?

J: At bus stops. In that time it was… Now, today yes, we’re living well now. Because there are a lot of immigrants and the migra doesn’t bother us now. Only if you do something bad, no? Before no, before, you came and if they looked at your appearance, they asked you for your papers, and if you didn’t have papers, they’d take you away. They went on the buses saying, “Papers?” “I don’t have them.” And the van would arrive. That is, they were hidden and they came like that, undercover, and they stopped you and they took you away. And I was scared that they were going to take me, that’s why I didn’t go to school. Because I had the school called Evans, which is over on Sunset, near downtown. Because that school at that time, they said it was a good school to learn English. And during the daytime. And I didn’t go.

But I started to learn English at work. And I was never embarrassed. I worked for a year on graveyard. Then, after a year they changed the manager, and the new manager told me that I would work during the day. And I started to work in the daytime. I was a cook and I was one of the best hamburger makers there. And so, I wanted to be a manager. Well, I had to learn English. My English was completely terrible. Because people talked to me in English at work, I wasn’t a cook anymore. Now I was on register. And I would say to myself, “Huh? Huh?” I was stuck, “Huh?”

M: So they put you on register without…

J: Yeah. Because they needed people. I knew the product but, well? And back then there weren’t registers like the ones they have now, digital, they were mechanical. I don’t know if you’ve seen them, but you can imagine what they were like. They were registers like that. So, I started to go to Los Angeles High School.

M: Oh, my mom went there too! L.A. High. That’s where my mom went to high school.

J: I went, but I went at night. To Los Angeles. But, I already knew a little bit of English. And when I arrived, they tested my English, and they told me, you’re ready for level third. But when I went to the third, everyone was ahead of me. I didn’t go again. I left, I didn’t want to go any more. So I said, me, no. And I came back and signed up again about a year later, but I signed up for the first level. In the first level I was like everyone else, and I started to stand out, to get ahead, to get ahead. I went through first, second, third grade, and from there I changed. I’m talking about some two years, three years. Because sometimes I went, sometimes I didn’t go, things, the girlfriend, you know, and then I stopped going. But one time I told myself, “You are going to finish this.” And I was already working as a manager in a Jack in the Box in Studio City, Laurel Canyon. So, I said, “I’m going to go to school.” And I found a school that’s there, in the center of Los Angeles on Union, near Wilshire, and I started going. And I met a really good teacher. She was from Asia, Asian, and her name was Suzy Wang. And I liked how she taught so much. She was so special at teaching English that I started to get English really quickly with her. She helped me to get the fourth, fifth level, until I graduated. Then, I had laboratory, and when I graduated from laboratory they sent me to the college. I had to go to college, Los Angeles City College, but during that time I met the woman who was my wife. She got pregnant, and I had to work. And yes, I could have done a lot.

But that English that I learned, I became assistant manager at Jack in the Box. And they gave me a store in South Central. And then, they robbed me four times in two weeks. Five times.

M: In the store?

J: In the store. And with every person that arrived, my legs were shaking.

So, my sister knew a man from El Salvador, at that time, and I told him, “You know what, I want to work on cars. Even if it’s washing cars. Because I don’t want to work over there. Even if they pay me minimum.” And anyone who earned minimum wage spent more than that. “I don’t care. I want to wash cars, park cars. Tell me if there’s an opportunity,” I tell him. And exactly. Two weeks later, he told me, “There’s an opportunity. Come. But come with me to learn, the mechanics.” I was working at night, and in the morning he took me to the dealer. A Ford dealer. And after two weeks, they gave me the job. I was so tired one day that I got in a van they were repairing, it didn’t have an engine, and I fell asleep. And the nephew showed up, who worked there, and he had a friend. The nephew was in L.A. High School. And he was a porter, you what a porter is? The person who drives cars and washes cars at the dealer. It was his best friend, he was working. But they’d given the job to me, of lube man. The one who does oil changes. And he said, “Uncle, uncle, why did you give the job to him if my friend is right here?” He told him, “Don’t worry. He’s very stupid, he’s really bad. Two weeks. Not even one month, and he’s out of here, and then he’s gonna get the job.” It hurts my feelings. I hear everything. And I said, “No. Uh-uh.” And I started to work. Because they put me in between a black guy and a white guy. The black guy didn’t want to help me. And the white guy, I became friends with him. And he said to me, “You don’t know anything? Don’t worry. I’ll help you.” I remember. Son of Italians. And he started, “You do this like this.” I started to learn, I started to do it, little by little by little. And when the black guy started getting jealous, that’s when he started helping me. He helped me after that, and I made friends with him. I had a lot of trust in him and everything.

At that time, I was earning by commission, per hour. But I stayed until twelve at night working. I got ahead on the work for the next day, so I was making a lot of money. I started making $13.50 an hour, which was a lot at that time. But a new owner arrived. The same owner, his wife took over the business, and said, “Uh-uh, he’s making a lot. We’re going to pay him according to what they’re all making.” And then, my average, I was making like $17.70 an hour. And when they gave the raise, I was making more than a mechanic. A real mechanic. I go, wow. Everyone was jealous, but no, it was the law. But, I’m a person who, I never give.

So then, the rich people started coming. And nobody wanted to do the rich people because they paid too little. That’s why I give thanks to God that I went to school. I didn’t know what it was, that they did for the rich people, but I read the instructions. And I go step by step. Boom. Done deal. I put them together, I did the service. And then, next one, with the eyes closed. And like that, little by little. And then, the guy who was the nephew of the man who got me the job, he didn’t want to do the work of replacing mufflers. So I took the mufflers job. And the Cadillac convertibles. Since it was hard and it paid little, he gave it to me. But later on, Ford, it changed. Because it was all warranty. They changed the prices. And instead of what it was, it raised up. But they left it to me, and I was expert at doing that. And so, the rich people with the Cadillac convertibles came, and me, oooh, I was making money. And I started like that, I started to get experience. The managers realized that the transmission people didn’t want to do it, they don’t wanna use their machine to exchange fluids, cause they want to pull it apart so they can upsell. But I said, no. So the manager said, “You want that job? It’s yours. Read the instructions, and you’ll do it easy.” And I started to do it, and after that I started doing everything. They gave me assistants and everything. Well, because I started to read. And all the English. That’s why I went to school. And I could interpret, I could read.

Okay, so when they sent me, they sent me to… because the Ford dealer decided that everyone who worked on their cars had to be certified. Boom, they sent me to school. And it gives me a surprise, that there were Americans who didn’t know how to write. When I arrived, I was the only Hispanic. But, my accent, sometimes it was hard, but I could read, and I could write. So they saw that. To stay in class, you have to take a quiz of ten questions. And to be able to stay you have to answer nine of them. Less, they send you back to the dealer. I started, boom, boom, perfect. I started to work, I started my school, and I graduated. And I’m certified for about 18 different courses. Electrical, computer, but I can’t work anymore. Because I hurt my arm. I was going to be a master technician. All of that because I went to school. And I learned in English.

M: What happened to your arm?

J: I had an accident. I had a brand new truck, I got it from Ford, and in 2005, the last day of 2005, December 31st, I was on the freeway going to the dealer and it was raining, and the car lost control and it’s spinning and spinning and I’m trying to, I don’t wanna hit another car, right? So, I thought that, to approach the wall, it would be okay. No, I hit the wall like 100 miles per hour. Booom. Straight ahead. Nothing happened to me, only my arm. But after that I couldn’t work. Now I’m fine, I’m good, but in that time my hand wouldn’t respond. I couldn’t lift nothing, and you know, working on cars. I had to lift the cars. I couldn’t work anymore.

And also because, well, I was earning a lot of money, and just like good things arrived, bad things arrive. One time they gave me cocaine to try, and I became addicted. I had a house, like three blocks away from here. I lost my house, I lost my children. I lost everything. That’s why I became a Christian, and God gave me another opportunity. Because I lost everything. I also won, but I lost a lot. Because when you have money, and they give you something to try, and all that because of what I told you, I’m like that, before and now. Because I did a favor for someone, he wanted to pay me with that, “Do you like it?” “I’ve never tried it.” “No?” And you know. I tried it, and he told me, “I have it, whenever you want.” And I liked the feeling, and after–before I didn’t drink. I started to drink at the age of 27. And 20 years passed before I stopped. Now it’s been nine years since God saved me. Because I believe in God. God is great. That’s why, now, I serve God. And I don’t forget it. And in Uber, I talk about God a lot. I don’t have to talk, but I talk.

And, when they saw the change in my life, because my family was… Do you know the word desahuciado [a lost cause]? They had already left me for dead. They had gotten rid of me. Because I arrived at a stage in my life, low, low, low. They were waiting for prison, hospital, or death. So, when I converted to Christianity, that is, the Gospel that is the good news of salvation, and giving us a new life. So, I believed in the word of God. And he changed me into a new person. Something that I am, really. When my family saw my change, I started to talk to them about God. And, my mother came, she started to come with me to the church I was going to. She was Catholic, she went to the Catholic church, and yes, now she comes with me to the evangelical church. She believed, and she converted. My sister believed, and she converted. My daughters believed, and they converted. So now we are all Christians. We believe in God more. That is, we believe in one God, creator of all things, and we don’t believe in images.

What else can I tell you?

M: Well, I think you said that sometimes – you have papers now, right? You’re a citizen?

J: Yes.

M: And you said that sometimes, you go to Tijuana to help –

J: Oh, yes, as part of the church. In the church, we like to serve. We have what they call, I don’t say religion, because for us it isn’t religion, it’s service and adoration of God. So, we serve God by serving our neighbors. So, a sister, we call the people of the congregation brothers and sisters, well, I went to a convention of the churches. And, what they taught, they taught me that, like Uncle Sam said – what did he say? What we can do for me?

M: Oh, JFK said, “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for…” what was it?

J: Ah, John F. Kennedy said it? Okay, that’s what he said. So, it’s the same. Don’t ask yourself what God can do for you, but ask yourself, what can you do for God? Well, they used that, and I ask myself. They said, when we got back, to ask our pastors, what can we do? How can we help, in what area? And in the airport, in Los Angeles, here, I asked my pastor, “What can I do for you?” He tells me, we have to pray. Before a month was up, he called me, he asked me, “Would you like to be in charge of the van?” The transportation. And I told him yes. I like to drive. And I started to give rides to the brothers. House by house, to pick them up and take them to church. And then, since I was in charge of the church, one sister told me she wanted to go to Tijuana. She needed the van, because there was a church where there’s a lot of need, there are a lot of brothers and sisters who have been caught by the migra, and they’re living there now. Many of them want to go to their homes, and many want to return [to the U.S.]. First, we go to bring them food, we go to bring them clothes. But the main thing, we go to bring them the bread of life, which is the word of God. And yes, I went many times. Right now we aren’t going, but yes, I went many times to help there. Maybe five times. Now we’ve stopped because another church took over. But if they call me, yes, I want to go help out there.

If they left me there without GPS, I would get lost. Into the deep, the center of Tijuana where the poor of Tijuana are. And there we found people who, brothers, children of pastors, who are there, who are illegal here, and they get taken away. And there they are. They don’t have anything, so they stay there. And yes, I really like to help people. Because of God, that from grace you received, from grace we are going to give. Like God helped you, you have to help others.

M: Exactly.

J: And you know, when I worked in Jack in the Box, as a manager, I helped a lot of people. Sometimes they came to look for work. I would say to them, “Sure, you’re from Mexico?” “Yes, I’m from Mexico. I just got here.” I remember when I had just gotten here and they helped me. “I’m going to say that you are my brother.” And he was a Mexican, I was from Guatemala. And I said to them, “Come on, let’s go.” I gave them a job. I helped a lot of people, a lot, because someone helped me, he opened the doors of the United States to me, and look, here I am. I have papers, here I am, thank God I can travel. I can go to anywhere in the world, and I can come back here. A lot of people can’t go. Look, how good is God with me that many people long to be near their mother. They’re on the other side, they can’t go, they don’t have papers. Look, I have papers, and I have my mother here. Yes, because God is good. Because God has blessed me. Because I have everything here. My mom isn’t here right now, she’s with my daughters, they went shopping. What else can I tell you?

M: It’s a really good story you have.

J: What would you like to know, how else can I help you?

M: Well, this. To know your story, and now I’m going to write it and put it as an interview on my web site, on my blog. Because for me, what’s important now, there are people who don’t know anyone who has lived these stories, they don’t know the truth. For example, Donald Trump and other people who walk around saying terrible things about migrants.

J: I’m going to tell you something. I forgot it, I had it in mind. I am thankful that the doors were opened to me after that man helped me to work, helped me get a job. I am grateful to an American. His name is Ronald Reagan. I’m sad that his wife died, Nancy Reagan. I remembered. Because of him, because he had the heart, the heart that Donald Trump doesn’t have. He opened it up to a lot of people. A lot of people who were working. A lot of people have made their American dream. They’ve responded to the opportunity that he opened the doors to for us. We’re still here. Do you think we’re going to vote for Donald Trump?

M: I don’t think so.

J: I don’t think he’s going to win. For me, he’s the devil [laughs]. He’s bad, bad news. He is going to help everyone who is a very conservative American. That doesn’t know the background, because we came here to work. \

M: That’s what I want to share, because there are a lot of people who don’t understand. They just here, I don’t know, “They want to bring drugs and steal our jobs.”

J: Many people think… we came here to work, we came here to do our work without offending, doing what the American can’t do. I’m not going to see an American who’s cleaning bathrooms, an American in the kitchens like in Jack in the Box. They don’t do this work. The American wants to do work where he makes good money. We settle for whatever money, the minimum. If you understand me. I worked, before starting with Uber, I was working in a warehouse. I only saw one American working with us, because he was a friend of the boss. He was helping him, because he was an actor. A film actor, but he wasn’t making money, and he went to make some money there with us. But out of thousands, one American. The Hispanic, he’s there, unloading the containers. Hard work. Work where, it’s 100 degrees outside, and how hot is it inside? 120, 130. And they’re sweating, and I had to do that work. I was sweating like I was in an oven. Who’s going to want to do that work? You tell me. Nobody. Only us, who have the need, do it. And we came here with the idea that we would make it economically. To maintain our families over there.

He [Trump] thinks because of the news, but that’s like 20 percent. What happened to the other eighty percent? Those of us who work. Who have good intentions. And the only thing I say to people who come here, when they start their paths here, is that they go to school to learn English. That’s the key here, to get ahead. One. The other, is that if you want to speak English, you have to live in English, not in Spanish. From the border it’s called United States of America. It doesn’t say United States of Mexico. And we have to respect the laws of this country, and live like Americans. Then, it will go well for us. Because if we’re here, if we bring our heritage, we can do it here in our house. But when we’re outside, to live like an American. Because that’s how it is. It’s not our land. This is American land. You remember when there were some protests, from, who was it, about immigration? How do you think that an American is going to receive us if we go out with the flag of our country? Of Mexico? No, why don’t we go out with the flag of the United States? Then they will receive us well! Right? Because I live here, I think like that. So, my way of thinking, I have to think like an American, because I live in America and now I’m American, we have to live like Americans. And if you want to keep living here and make it, you have to stick to the law of the United States, because that’s the law here. So if you’re going to live here with the law of Mexico, you’d be better off returning to Mexico. Seriously. Why come here? If you’re going to come here to get ahead, you have to leave your stuff from there, and take the things from here, and you’re going to succeed. Because if you’re going to protest, no, this or that, no, you’re mind won’t let you. That, that’s what I think.

M: Right. Is there anything else you’d like to say, to share?

J: Well, that’s everything. That’s my advice. We have to do the work that a lot of people don’t want to do. Right? And that’s why a lot of people take advantage of us. The American is fair. But some people take advantage of immigrants. Because they don’t have papers. So they’re going to treat us like slaves. And that’s not okay. So, for us, only when we learn English and know the laws from here, from the United States, only then, they won’t be able to do anything to us.

And we need to have another amnesty, because there are a lot of people. Like I had the opportunity. I received amnesty in 1985. On August 28, 1988, I was legal. Yes, from that time until now, I’m legal. We need this, we need an amnesty. And thanks to God, I had that. Right? I haven’t been in jail, I’ve never been in jail. One time they took me because they thought I was drunk, but no, I had only had one beer. But I was there for like three hours. They told me, “Tell the truth, how many beers have you had?” “I’m telling the truth, one!” Boom, boom, they took me to the station. And then, they put me, in that time they were starting with the-

M: The breathalyzer.

J: Yes. [Blows out] “Beepbeepbeep.” Zero zero zero zero. The police said to me, “It’s lying! Blow!” Paa! He hit me. I blew more. “It’s lying!” “No,” I say, “I’m telling you the truth! Don’t hit me.” So the guy who was in charge say, and he says to me, “What happened.” And he told me, “Blow. But do it right.” I blew. “No, he’s not drunk. Why did you bring him?” He took me back to my car. In this time, I’m talking about 1980, 81, when I had my first car.

Now, it’s hard to cross. It’s hard.

M: Yeah. It’s really hard.

J: But people cross.

M: Yes. They’re always going to cross.

J: But how much does it cost now? A lot of money. That is, how much did it cost me to cross?

M: You said three hundred, right?

J: Fifty. How much does it cost now? It’s thousands of dollars! It’s expensive.

After me, I was the second, and then the rest of the family came. My mom was caught by the Border Patrol. She was in jail in Chula Vista. With my brother. But this was later, when they came. They came in 85. In 84 or 85, my mom came with my brother, my brother was 11 years old. And my brother only recently became a resident. He didn’t want to, didn’t want to, didn’t want to. Until one time I said to him, “You know what, I’m going to go find you.” And I found him a lawyer. And it cost money. And like that, now we’re all good. But I tell you, where did all that come from? 1976, earthquake, poverty. Many people because of poverty, many for politics.

That’s why, watch the movie, The North. Look, it’s going to help you a lot, a lot. They’re two Guatemalans, indigenous. From there comes the story of why they leave Guatemala, they cross through Mexico, and there’s the story in Mexico, what they live through in Mexico. What they had to do to be able to make it here. Him and his sister. They crossed. But that story is so… sad. And wow, it’s terrible. It’s a story that sympathizes with the same things we all experienced. Many people went through more, many less. But it’s the same story. They had to go through worse than what I went through. And one of the actors from that movie, they’re all Mexican. The actors. One of them, I’m not sure how long ago, maybe 18 years, got killed by a drunk driver in East Los Angeles. Yeah. But yes, it’s a very good movie. With the government, everything because someone wants to fight for his or her rights. People don’t have rights there. You think they have democracy? You think they have a democratic country? Lies. It’s because there is neither democracy nor communism. It’s the law of the government. They’re dead. They take away your land for the rich. And like that. Many people here in the United States for the same reason. They leave fleeing from there, and they take us away from here. We think we’re safe here, and look at the police now. There’s no way to cross.

Well, this is part of the story, this house. Small, we live here, humbly. But now we have something. There, we didn’t have anything. You know what our house was like? Where we lived? It was like half of this room, but it was made of wood. But it wasn’t wood like here that’s straight. It was, you know, here’s the tree, and you take off the sides, and that’s called lepa. And the house is made out of that. They cover it with newspaper, wherever it has holes, and it’s not straight, no. They’re pieces, the round part of the tree, and you make a house from that. A frame, and you put on a roof, you put what’s called lámina [aluminum], out of metal, for the water, and you cover it. But there, it’s never too hot or too cold. That’s why they call my country the country of eternal spring. It’s never cold, it’s never hot. It’s always spring, all year.

M: What part of Guatemala are you from?

J: From the city. Guatemala City, in a colonia [neighborhood] from Zone 19. It’s a place, here how they have cities, there they’re zones. Zone 19. And they’re made up of colonias. I lived in a colonia called El Milagro [The Miracle].

M: El Milagro. And the miracle is that you left.

J: And by a miracle, I arrived.

This is the final part of Juan Carlos’s story. Read the first part, about his journey from Guatemala to Los Angeles, here.

Thank you so much to Juan Carlos for sharing this story with me.