Hope on a Tuesday

It was a Tuesday night and I planned on meeting with a small group of neighbors who I thought might qualify for the new Deferred Action Immigration Policy.  I had talked to maybe 20 people and expected about that many to show up. I set up a few chairs in the living room of our Solid House and waited for our new lawyer friend, who graciously agreed to help our neighbors file, to arrive. You see, normally how these community meetings go is maybe about 50-75% of the people we expect to show up actually do, and usually they are 15-30 minutes late. It's the way of the neighborhood and something I have come to embrace.

But this Tuesday was different. It wasn't even 7:00pm yet, the scheduled start time of our meeting, and the little living room was packed. People were overflowing into the patio and we definitely did not have enough chairs for everyone. It was hot and muggy, but the energy was high. We decided to move our meeting to the church down the street so everyone would fit. All SEVENTY people walked through the neighborhood to the church. It looked like a parade! When the lawyer arrived, he went right into introducing himself and sharing about the basics of the new policy. There were arms flying up left and right with questions about themselves or "their friends." I couldn't quite put my finger on it at the time, but something was special about this night. A group of people who daily feel the weight of their societal labels, like "illegal" and "criminal", were eager, anxious, and excited. There was fear in the room, but as the night came to an end, it hit me: for the first time, a room of undocumented immigrants from our neighborhood were gathered together and the normal overwhelming feelings of struggle and fear were strongly overshadowed by hope.

Hope is powerful thing. Hope gives you confidence, drive, and determination. As I scheduled individual appointments for each potential applicant that night, I heard countless people talk about how they were going back to get their GED now, re-enroll in college, or apply for a job in the field they love, have a degree in, but could never pursue without a work permit. Hope was in the air and it was a beautiful thing to be apart of. 

As the night came to an end and as I locked up the church, feeling physically tired but emotionally rejuvenated, a mom and her 13 year old daughter came up to me. They had just heard about the meeting and were wondering if I could help the daughter apply. I explained that she was too young right now, but as long as the policy was still in place when she turned 15, I would definitely help her. I gave her the basics of deferred action and her face literally lit up as I explained the potential for a work permit and driver's licence...things this girl didn't dare dream about. Her mom looked at her daughter as she put her arm around her. She didn't have to say it but I knew what she was thinking.

This is why she made the difficult decision to come and dangerous journey here...for hope. 

And this is why I got involved in this work to begin with...to see that look of hope on the faces of my friends and neighbors.

The New Girl

Her face says it all. She is terrified, untrusting, confused, hungry and dirty. Her cheeks are sunken in and her lips as dry as the desert she just came from.

She couldn't be more than 17. She's a cute girl with straight, long, dark hair. I really know nothing about her, other than she's from Central America and was just picked up with her 19 year old brother.

Why did she come? Where are her parents? What happened to her while she traveled here? How long did she go without food and water? Does she know she's safe now? I know I can't ask her any of these questions right now, so I just smile at her. I can assume there is one question her mind is focused on. "Where is my brother?"

My heart breaks as I imagine and assume the hardships this young women has faced. Clearly, a desperateness must have driven her and her brother to make the long and dangerous journey here. Maybe they were trying to find their parents. Maybe they were escaping gangs or poverty. Perhaps they were hoping for the American Dream. No matter what the reason, the reality is that she is here now. She is alone, scared, most definitely hurting and vulnerable. The question for us is how will we respond to her?

Matthew 25:40

"Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me."

My DREAM for Change part 2

My life has most fully been lived on a little street in Fullerton, Ca.

This neighborhood means so much to me. It's where I fell in love with my husband. It's where I discovered who I truly am. It's where I have experienced Jesus in the deepest way. It's where I learned to dream BIG dreams for those I love, even if they are not able to dream them for themselves.

My neighborhood is far from "beautiful". There is trash everywhere, gangsters hanging out on the corner, worn down apartments, and I have broken up a fight or two. But it's not this physical place, full of imperfections, that has so deeply impacted me. It's the perfect God I have experienced through my neighbors that is what brings me to a deep place of reflection.

In the countless meals I have shared, walks to Target I have taken, and conversations had at the food trucks, I have come to realize how connected I am to my neighbors. We are not all that different. We all want to be safe, provide for and protect our families. We all want to be valued.

We all want to dream.

As similar and connected as we are. There is a stark difference between me and my neighbors: I have been given the right to dream. In fact, I have almost been forced to dream. I grew up with the idea that I could do anything. I was free and even entitled to follow my dreams, whatever they may be.

My neighbors? Sure they can dream, in theory. They can imagine being doctors, engineers, teachers, artists, musicians, lawyers, politicians...but the reality of their circumstances often crushes those thoughts before they even fully play out in their heads.

When I first moved into my neighborhood I was an idealistic 19 year old. I thought with a little love and imagination this neighborhood could transform. What I have come to realize over the last 7 years is that love and imagination will only take you so far. I pray everyday not to lose my idealism, but I have accepted the reality that transformation takes time. It takes work and it is often times very difficult. When it comes to the reality of my neighborhood, there is just so much we have to overcome. We have systemic poverty, slum lords, a broken education system, and too many kids who don't know how to dream. We have generations of people who can't see past the corner of Garnet and Placentia and the second they do they are quickly reminded that for them, there is no point. Over the years I have also come to realized how deeply connected these issues are with the fact that so many of my neighbors are undocumented. When you don't belong, you have no rights, and you are treated like a second class citizen, what's the point of dreaming? I fear our lack of just Immigration policy is robbing our neighbors of their God given right to dream.

I think, as the Church, we need to acknowledge this as a viable possibility.

We also need to begin repairing the damage we have caused by allowing our big corporations to cause systemic poverty in our neighboring countries, taking advantage of cheap labor, creating a demand for drugs, weapons and prostitution, and allowing years of outdated and unjust laws go unchanged. Too many people want to criminalize the acts of those who came here unlawfully, but I think we need to take responsibility for our role in this mess.

We were so busy asserting our American right to dream for power and prosperity that we forgot about the dreams of our neighbors.

I know that changing our immigration laws will not instantly make everything better. There will always be poverty, corruption and injustice. But for my neighborhood, and countless other Immigrant communities across the nation, we will not see our dreams of transformation fully come to fruition without it. What Comprehensive Immigration Reform would do is restore my neighbor's ability to dream...something we had no business destroying in the first place.

Anchor Baby Revolution

I held a one week old baby boy tonight. He is perfectly beautiful and I was instantly in love. He’s just a little guy, weighing in at just over 6 pounds. He has all this hair and likes to pucker his big lips. His name is JJ and he is what many sadly refer to as an “anchor baby”.

You see, his mother is a 15 year old girl from Central America who upon finding out she was pregnant decided to make the dangerous journey to the US. She is an illegal immigrant.

As I was holding JJ I thought about how innocent he is. I thought about how happy he must make Jesus, laying there in his purest form, untouched by the darkness of the world. I thought about what it will be like for him to grow up and the hardships he will surely face being a child of an immigrant.

Then I thought about the new life he must have brought to his mom. This young girl comes from a place infested with violence, poverty and corruption. She has lived more life and seen more devastation in her 15 years than most do in a lifetime.

I hate that many in our country (including far too many in our Church) will never see past the law breaking act of crossing the border to have her baby. I hate that there will be people who think she is manipulative, selfish and wants nothing more than to live off the benefits of having an American Citizen child. Many things will be assumed about her while very few people actually try to get to know her. I hate that many will not see her innocence or her pure intent. I hate that many will not realize how selfless she actually is. I hate that her heroic act of traveling 2000 miles, alone and pregnant, just so that her baby won’t have to worry about being kidnapped and trafficked by the gangs or know what it feels like to slowly starve to death, will go unnoticed.

I don’t want to suggest that anyone who is pregnant should be able to come here and I don’t mean to over emotionalize our current Immigration situation. I simply want to remind us that there are beating hearts behind this issue. There are people like JJ and his mom who want nothing more than to live a life of dignity. I want us to ask ourselves the difficult questions. I want us to see JJ and his mom and think about what it would look like to love them well. I want us to think about the millions more who were not as lucky as JJ. I want us to consider our part in loving those who have crossed our borders while figuring out our role in the transformation that needs to happen in the places people are coming from. This issue calls for more than new policy; it calls for an army of Christians who are ready to fight poverty and corruption with peace and love. As believers, I don’t think we can complain about the drain JJ and his mom might be on our economy while we do nothing to address the reasons they are here in the first place.

Sometimes I feel hopeless because I know we have such a long way to go.

But then I remember who our God is.

I remember that when Jesus looks at JJ and his mom, He does not see an illegal immigrant and her anchor baby. He sees His son and daughter who He loves with all His heart and who He was willing to die for. I can’t help but hope for the kind of revolution that would occur if we were all more like Christ in this way.

My DREAM for Change

The DREAM Act. What is it, officially? It's a Bi-partisan piece of legislation that would provide paths to citizenship for young people who meet a specific list of requirements. What is it to the thousands of undocumented youth working their butts off with little to no payoff? It means a future. It means opportunity. It means hope.

Let me break it down for you.

Over the last 2 decades, when migrating to the US became the response to poverty and oppression in Mexico and Central America (other places too, but most undocumented immigrants are from this region), parents would uproot their entire family and make the difficult journey here. Many of the children were very young. Upon settling in the US, parents would enroll their children in school and they would begin their pursuit of the American dream. These children grew up, learned English, assimilated to American culture and slowly detached from their home country. Their memories of their life in Mexico, Honduras, El Salvador became few and far between. They said our pledge of allegiance at school, learned about our government on the news, were entertained and integrated into our pop culture, and sang our national anthem at sporting events.

They were becoming American in every way except on paper.

Many didn't even know they were "Illegal" until they noticed all their friends getting driver's licences or applying for part time jobs and asked their parents why they couldn't do the same. And after high school? Well many of these students went on to college, working as babysitters, house cleaners, tutors, construction workers, painters, gardeners just trying to pay the ever growing fees for tuition and books. Many did not make it past the first year in college. Some gave up on their education because it was just too difficult. Others were left with little options, forced to work more and study less until they stopped classes altogether.

But some made it through.

Some toughed it out and found an inner strength that can only be understood when witnessed first hand. Those that graduated with their BA, their masters or even their PhD, defeated all odds and got through college with NO LOANS, NO FEDERAL FINANCIAL AID, NO WORK STUDY, and in some cases NO IN-STATE TUITION.

Now what do we, as a responsible country, do with these nurses, doctors, lawyers, teachers, and engineers who are not able to put into practice the education they worked so hard for? Even more importantly, what do we, as a community of Christ followers, do with the dreams of thousands who wait in limbo? I only see 3 options.

1. Deport them all.

2. Let the status quo remain.

3. Create paths to citizenship.

I don't think Jesus is for mass deportation. The group of people we are talking about are innocent. They did not chose to break the law in coming here. They have worked hard and want to be apart of this country. In many cases, they do not know or remember much of their home country. Would it really be right to rip them away from everything they know and send them back to a a place that really is foreign to them? I look at scripture and who Jesus is and I can not seem to reconcile this option with my faith. I'm really not sure how anyone could.

The status quo does not work. We have thousands of people living life in limbo who have little to no rights. I'm not sure about your Jesus, but mine is not ok with that! He is the defender of the weak. He stands up for the oppressed. He calls the Church to do the same. I can't settle for sitting back and doing nothing while so many are suffering. My faith won't allow it.

So this brings us to the 3rd option. What if we created a comprehensive path to citizenship for these young people? What if we invited these determined, hard working, intelligent, good people to come out of the shadows and live in their full potential? This is exactly what the DREAM Act would do. It is not amnesty, rather a way for deserving young people to earn their legalization. This is more than a piece of legislation. This is the future of countless young people. We need to do what's right.

Now let me take a minute to address the critics. There are far too many lies and misconceptions going around about the DREAM Act. It is my opinion that most of these false statements are rooted in one of two things: fear or entitlement. Many are afraid of what this might do. They are afraid it would encourage future illegal migration. They are afraid these students, once given citizenship, will then sponsor their families to become citizens, and so on and so forth. They are afraid it will cost too much money...the list of fears could go on and on. Many also feel entitled to their rights and privileges as American's, which means there has to be someone who is NOT entitled. They say things like, "Well what if they take the spot of an American citizen student in a university that is already difficult to get into?" or "Those are MY tax dollars, why should someone else benefit from that?" The attitude is that these undocumented students are less deserving of rights than American born students are. I would be very careful about this mentality...it is pretty blatantly anti Jesus.

Besides, there is very little legitimacy to these statements of fear and entitlement. I could write for days about all the myths out there and address just about every single one with factual statements proving this really is the only option for our country. You can find some of that here.

I, however, am more concerned with the day we all meet Jesus and when He asks us if we loved the stranger and looked after the poor. I want to be able to humbly look Him in the eyes and thank Him for who He made me through this fight. I want to praise Him for allowing me to know Him better through my feeble attempts at loving the stranger and taking care of the orphan and the widow. I want my brothers and sisters to be able to do the same.

We all need to be a lot less concerned with the impacts on us as Americans and focus our energy on being administrators of His justice, grace and love.

If you are interested in helping the DREAM Act get passed as it goes to vote THIS WEEK, click here and follow the instructions to place a call with your local representative.

Once on the phone, say something along the lines of "I am calling to urge my representative to vote yes on the DREAM Act because I believe it is the first step in fixing our broken immigration system. As a person of faith, I feel it is necessary we do what is fair and just for the thousands of undocumented young people who feel just as American as you and me and who deserve the rights you and I have. Please let my representative know that his/her constituents want the DREAM Act. Thank you."

It will seriously take about 2 minutes and our politicians need to know the Church is alive and that we will not be apathetic. Will you join me?

My Purple Prayer Bead

There is a large, purple bead by my bed. It was given to me by a 7 year old and it reminds to pray for all of the girls at the shelter.

Tonight, at the shelter, I met a 15 year old girl. This 15 year old was arrested when her youth leader was pulled over (without breaking any traffic laws) while driving her and other students home from youth group. When asked to show ID, the undocumented youth leader could not so the officer preceded to check the IDs of all in the car. Those without proper documentation were apprehended, including this 15 year old. The youth leader was deported and this 15 year old sent to the shelter. She actually praises God that she is in the shelter because she feels she is there for a reason. This 15 year old feels a calling on her life to love those who do not feel loved. She has found joy in the ugliest of situations and is trying to share that joy with the other girls. She is sharing that joy with her new friend, a 14 year old who also lives at the shelter.

This 14 year old is a mom to an almost 2 year old with special needs. She was repeatedly raped and became pregnant at the age of 11. This 14 year old has come to the realization that she is not capable of parenting her son at this time and so has agreed to let him go live with a foster family while she continues to work on her issues and prepare herself to be the mom she wants to be. She has made an extremely difficult and selfless decision. Fortunately, she has found support, purpose, and friendship in a little 7 year old.

Self proclaimed "best friend" of the 14 year old, this 7 year old has managed to create family amongst a bunch of broken, lonely teenage girls. She can make anyone smile and although she misses her parents very much, this 7 year old is very concerned with how the other girls are doing. She sits through our Friday night Bible studies aimed towards teenagers, I think, because she wants to ask for prayer at the end. She wants prayer for all the girls and their cases. She doesn't have much of anything, but she had a purple bead and she told me that she really wanted me to have it.

Three incredible girls that are no doubt changing my life. I believe we need these girls to teach us about Jesus' unending joy and peace, boldness in Christ, selflessness, grace, community, and the power of prayer.

I pray we do not deport them.

Freedom

I spent the day with a bunch of boys from our Garnet Teen Center...always an adventure, to say the least. As we were driving home from a day at the beach, one of the boys read the sign as we got on the 405 south...towards San Diego. He said, "I'm not aloud to go there!" I reassured him that we were, in fact, going home and that he had nothing to worry about. Although I chuckled a little when he said that, it also struck me as kind of sad. See this young teen does not have papers...he is "illegal." He recognizes his lack of freedom.

I spent a long time talking to a friend of mine tonight. He is also undocumented and is in the middle of a messy court case trying to legalize his status. He has been in immigration detention for the last 2 years where he had to basically do whatever people told him to do. Now that he is out of custody, he has no idea what to do or how to make choices for himself. He is just waiting for time to pass, is how he explained it to me. He doesn't trust people around him and even more, he does not trust in himself. He has no control over what his future holds, as he is at the mercy of a pretty harsh immigration judge. He knows that even though he is out of custody for the time being, he could be apprehended and deported at any time. He recognizes his lack of freedom.

I have spent the last 4 years working along side a young man from my neighborhood. He came here as a young child but now is 19 and trying to sort out his life. He has some college credits and is planning on continuing, but is struggling to pay for the classes he needs. The words, "What's the point" too often come from his lips as he expresses his frustration with his life. Even if he can find a way to pay for his classes and graduate from college, he can not legally work. He could go back to Mexico but his whole life is here: his family, his community, his girlfriend, his ministry. His memories of Mexico are few and far between. So he stays...hoping for a miracle. In the meantime, he daily recognizes his lack of freedom.

Galations 5:1 It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.

Tonight as I go to bed, my heart is heavy, as it often is after blogging. But tonight, I hold on to Christ's promise and I pray His truth over my beloved friends, with the hope that they can one day recognize the freedom He offers.

No Me Gusta Adios

I have always hated good bye's. The worst kind of good bye's are the ones where you don't know when you will see that person again. Well tonight I had to say a couple seemingly permanent good bye's. I have spent the last month and half getting to know the girls at the shelter and I knew the day would come when some of the girls would leave. It's forbidden for volunteers to exchange personal info with the kids or stay in contact with them after they leave the shelter. I understand and respect the rules, but it still sucks. A couple of the girls are being reunited with family and will be able to finish their court cases outside of custody, while other's are leaving under less exciting circumstances. For those that are going to live with family, it's bittersweet. I know it's so great for them to be in a real home, but the reality that I will never see them again and never know how their case turns out is difficult. For those that don't have family, it is a whole lot of bitter and not anything sweet. They are stepping out, alone, into a world that is pretty much against them. They will have to continue their fight without the comfort of a counselor to help them deal with all the trauma or the security or their pro-bono lawyer to help win their case. There is such a long road ahead for them and it blatantly reminds me of the long road ahead for all of us who have chosen to join them on this journey.

Take M for instance.

M is a little less than 2 weeks away from her 18th birthday. For a kid in Immigration Detention, your 18th birthday is not something you look forward to; a far cry from the average 17 year old's anticipation of freedom. For these kids, it can too often represent the opposite of freedom. M has spent most of her life here in the U.S. Her family migrated here when she was a young child. As she became a teenager, she ended up getting arrested for some minor crime and then turned over to ICE. For one reason or another, her family was not able or willing to sponsor her or take her in, so she stayed in the shelter. Now, on the brink of "adulthood", her options are pretty limited. She can legally no longer stay at the shelter because it's only for minors. She has no family that is willing to let her come live with them. She has no green card to get a job and rent her own place. Her Immigration court case is still pending and now that it will be moved to adult court, the wait time will be longer and the judge harsher. She is virtually alone in an incredibly scary world. The crazy thing is that if she was born here, she would have been put into domestic foster care and would have received at least opportunities for free education after she turned 18. But no, she was born a few hundred miles away from deserving even those rights...or so our laws say. So what will happen to her? Well she will probably go live in a shelter until her case finishes. From there, she will either receive her papers or get deported. If she get's her papers, she can at least get a job and try to make something of her life. If she get's deported...well, then she will go back to a country she doesn't even know. Either way, the road is long and lonely. It's nights like tonight that make me want to buy a big house and fill each room with young people like M. Matt keeps telling me, "One day, Bethany, one day." I know he's right, but for me, "one day" can't get here soon enough.

Meet Julie and Natalie

Julie, 7, and Natalie, 3, are our neighbors that live directly behind us. For some reason, they have decided they like coming to our house. I'm not exactly sure why, we have nothing that I would consider appealing to a 3 and 7 year old, but they come...almost daily. Because of this and the history we have with the family over the past few years, we have gotten to know their story quite intimately. Natalie, Julie, and their older brother, Jose Luis, were all born here to their American citizen dad and their non-citizen, Mexican born mom.

When their parents were first married, the couple sought to legalize the status of the new bride. It seemed like a no brainer; if you marry an American citizen, you should get your papers. Unfortunately, this is not as true or as easy as it used to be. When the couple was first married, she was told to go back to her country in order to return legally. As she left the US, thinking she was doing everything right, her leave was incorrectly marked as a deportation, even though this was not what she was told. For those of you that know anything about Immigration you know that a deportation on your record basically means you are blacklisted from the US and it makes it practically impossible to ever receive residency or citizenship. In order to be with her husband and ensure her future children would have opportunities as American citizens, she crossed the border and started their family.

Fast forward to today. After thousands of dollars spent on lawyers and years of struggling through the difficult choice of "follow the laws of the land" or be with your children, the family has found themselves in a tough spot. Their mom has returned to Mexico to try and legalize her status once again, but was told she must "wait in line" at least 10 years before she can legally return to the US. 10 years. Her kids will be 13, 17, and 22. The thought of a mother being away from her children for 10 years is unfathomable. As just a friend, I personally can't imagine missing these children grow up, so to think what it must be like for their mom daily breaks my heart. The kids often talk about their mom and how much they miss her. After they leave our house, I usually have one of two responses to our time with them: I will sit and cry or I get on a soap box and begin preaching to the choir (my husband) about how injustice is alive and well...and then I sit and cry. I feel so helpless; so hopeless. All I can do is love them like crazy while they are in our home, tell their story and fight for reform.