Migrant Youth: May 2008 Archives
A few weeks back, I ran across the story at RaceWire of
Armando, a Honduran who had lived all but 9 months of his 26 years in the
I have been "detained" by the Department of Homeland Security for over ten months now, as I had been fighting my deportation case and hoping for a second chance. I really don't like the word detained because I feel it is a word used by "them" in an attempt to lessen the truth; that I am their prisoner.
It seems all I have been doing in my life is adapting to major changes, one after the other. From the loss of my father at seventeen, to adapting to military life, to getting used to a 6x9 cell. I have had to make some major adjustments and I have come to learn that change is inevitable.
However, I never would have guessed that I would now be getting ready to be deported to a country I know nothing about. I never thought I would be preparing to be banished from the only country I have known, the country I volunteered to fight for, and not to mention the country that my family lives in.
This was the first May Day march I had participated in. It was a lot of fun, and emotionally and (in a strictly secular way :-) ) spiritually uplifting, but I kind of felt like I had missed the party. I heard about crowds exponentially larger in 2006 and substantially larger last year. But apparently, frustration in the pro-migrant community with the lack of progress toward comprehensive reform and fear instilled by widescale raids over the past year-and-a-half had combined to ratchet down participation in this year's march. (With my own eyeballs, I estimated between 2,000 and 3,000 marchers--not something you see every day parading down Broadway, but certainly not the numbers seen in recent years.) It's a shame, because things are about as bad now as they've ever been for migrants in the
The low numbers, then, are a clear indication that the
restrictionists--backed squarely by the