I, like many of you, have watched for the last many years as tens of thousands cross our boarders illegally. I have been frustrated and angry at the whole situation, like many of you may have been. Recently I checked my perspective. Well maybe it was checked for me.
My step-son introduced us to his girlfriend of a year. We have heard stories about her and their adventures together. We really looked forward to meeting her. Not sure who was more nervous - her, my step-son, or us LOL. Anyway, it went very well and we liked her very much. She was very smart, well spoken, kind, funny, and fit right in. She is a hard worker and very goal oriented. Throughout the night we shared stories and learned more about her, her family, and her life. She is a beautiful Mexican woman.
She shared the stories of her parents' struggles and how they came here under the Reagan administration illegally and worked in Washington state in the fields, met, married, and began a family. They worked hard - harder than most of us would work. They are a Catholic family and raised their children in the faith. As she shared her family's story, I was transported back in time to my young childhood when my parents owned a custom harvesting business and we traveled for 6 months out of the year from Texas to North Dakota harvesting wheat. We had lots of equipment, trucks, combines, employees, and mobile living quarters. We always knew we had beds, food, and shelter. I remember being a very young child and playing in the fields of Texas as everyone worked and would make friends with children whose parents were working by hand in the next field over picking cabbage or other vegetables. Yes their skin was darker than mine but as a child it never crossed my mind they were from another COUNTRY - what was a country? They were migrant children and we played together. After all we all looked alike by the end of the day in the hot sun and dirty fields LOL. I don't remember their being a language barrier. There might have been, but children find a way to communicate. I remember the adults bringing produce they had picked over and selling it to us for more than they were getting paid from their employers.
My perspective as a child was these are peers, friends, equals to me and we need to stay out of the way of the adults while they work.
Flash forward a "few" years to when I lived in TN. The illegal Mexican population was so "bad" that the state finally gave in and said everyone - legal or not- could acquire a drivers license / state ID just so they could try to keep track of the number of people. I had to get my license changed from Illinois to Tennessee during that time and 6 HOURS it took me to get through the line. Then they gave me grief about an Illinois CDL and I would have to come back blah blah....no thank you just give me an regular class D, I want to go home now. I would drive by an area where every morning the workers would gather and needy blue collar contractors would come by and pick up hard workers to work for the day. By this point in my life I had forgotten my perspective on life as a small child. I had listened to the "news" and my perspective was shaped by those who probably had NO idea of the people they spoke about. I never stopped and talked to any of them and I never learned their story.
My perspective was they were people who prolonged my day to get my driver's license changed and cause good hard working Americans to be out of jobs.
Move forward a couple more years. I was blessed to be a part of the Leadership Cheatham County program in Tennessee. The month rolled around where Agriculture was our focus. We visited a tobacco farm and watched how they harvested, dried, smoked, and packaged tobacco to send all around the world. It was an awesome day to be a part of. I remember someone asked the question - Why are you not hiring the people of this county who desperately need work. The farmer answered in a "drop the mic" kind of way. They don't want to work! He said he hires legally through the agriculture department to bring migrant workers to Tennessee to help him. He is required to place an ad in the local papers. He said if he did get an answer they would only want to drive a tractor they didn't want to work with their hands that was too much work. (WOW I could relate I was in trucking and I heard that all the time...I will drive but I am not touching any of the freight - I am a truck driver not a lumper) Tobacco farming is not easy. In fact it is very dangerous. There are large sharp spikes the tobacco must by stuck onto to be placed on the trailer frame that the farmer is pulling through the field that then goes into the barn to be hung from the roof for smoking. Those sharp sticks will go through a hand as easily as a tobacco leaf. He also explained he must have approved housing for his workers with no more than 2 per bedroom. He showed us his farm houses where his workers stayed. He treated his workers well and they treated him well.
My perspective was these migrant workers were doing a job "us hardworking Americans" were too lazy to do. Simple as that.
A few years later we would move to an island in the middle of the Caribbean Sea. There were no boarders to cross. People from all over the world would sail in and out with the wind. Some good - some not so much. Life is different in the islands. People often disappear. Sometimes the legal system processes people through but other times people vanish. They may sail away to another island, fly to the mainland, or just go missing. I remember looking at moving to another island and it was explained to us this way, you are the law at your house. Take care of the problem and feed the fish when you are done. That was the answer when we asked what the crime rate was.
My perspective was.....God gave us this world to live in harmony.
We moved back to the states and became bombarded with the noise of the political rhetoric once again. Watching crime rates rise with illegal border crossings and frustrated with our own government for not controlling things. Stop making America look like a free buffet line and things will stop! - My perspective.
Back to meeting the girlfriend. She shared how her father became an American Citizen but her mother never did. How her mother was deported under later administrations and they lived with her in Mexico as her father moved to Texas to work and would cross the border to visit the family. How they didn't know where they would be living or what they would be eating at times. How they would come back and live with dad and mom would cross the Rio Grande to get here again. How they moved to Missouri and created a stable home. Mom and Dad have since returned to Mexico to care for grandma but 3 children (adults) are here. The girlfriend is finishing her degree up and currently interning as a behavioral therapist in 3 county schools. She plans to finish her degree up by the end of this year and continue to get her Behavioral Therapist license to practice.
My perspective once again came back to that 3-6 year old child I once was. These migrants have left EVERYTHING they know and have to be here. They work harder than many Americans who want things given to them. They have goals. They appreciate opportunities. They are Christians. They are humans. It does not matter what country they came from. Yes there is a right and wrong way to be citizens. Let's find out their story. Let's show them compassion.
I am not naïve, yes there are some who want to destroy this country or do us harm. BUT hey, we raise them here too! Those are the ones we must identify and deal with accordingly.
More perspective - let's not judge any book by the cover, movie by the trailer, or person by their skin color or heritage. Let's open our hearts to start seeing people again for who they really are. Let's quiet our minds and open our emotions up to the way we were when we were children, the way we were meant to be.
The visit with my stepson's girlfriend helped to quiet the noise of the world so I could once again see the beauty around me. Count your blessings, find your peace, love endlessly.
