Tag Archives: politics

Sleepless in San Ysidro

If only I could sleep. Tomorrow is too important. That’s why I can’t sleep. If I’m too tired tomorrow how can I be strong for myself and for my kids. By tomorrow this time where will I be, where will my children be? I don’t want to think about it. But I can’t help it. I can’t help thinking that I have done this to my children. That I have put them through so much danger, that I don’t know what kind of dangers are ahead for them. What will happen if we are separated? How can they speak for themselves, they don’t know English, not enough to explain our situation. Neither do I, but at least if we were together—

Look at the way Antonio is sleeping, hugging his backpack like it was his old stuffed dinosaur. Jacklyn, thank god, she’s asleep, poor thing. I hope she doesn’t remember that nightmare when she wakes up. But how will she ever lose the memory of what happened to her after we left Durango. Molested by that gang member who carried drugs, while I was throwing up in the brush from the bad food. Her clothes torn and she had thrown up, too, from the things that monster did to her. Even now, look at the way that man sleeping near her keeps inching closer every time he turns over. In a minute I am going to wake her and trade places with her. She didn’t deserve any of this cruelty.

I really wish to god I had turned back before we got to the border of Mexico. But the farther we went the harder it was to turn back. How can I ever forget this living nightmare? This thing I have done, listening to false promises and lies and giving all our money to these bastard smugglers, these “coyotes”, who tell you they will keep you safe and get you to the U.S. and you will have a job there and a place to live. I was a fool, just like all these other people. And now look what I’ve done to my children. I suppose that’s the real reason why I can’t sleep.

Robbed twice, then arrested by Mexican immigration, they separated me and my children for two days. Then they finally let us go and told us not to stop until we reach the U.S. border. I was almost raped by that bastard smuggler but those two men from my country were nearby and saw I was in trouble and scared him off.

I miss the baby so much. But how could I bring her? You can’t take a three year old on this kind of travel. Some people do, but—. Will I ever see her again? Will I ever see Grandma? Sometimes I wonder if I ever really will.

In the morning I have to be sure the children remember those two words: Asilo Politico. The coyotes tell us that the Americans have nice hotels for families like us, we will get our own room, food, everything we need while they listen to our case. I don’t really believe any of that. I don’t know where they will put us. I don’t know if they will take my children from me. But I know they will not harm my children, they have compassion, they will give them plenty of food and a safe place to sleep with other children. Maybe they will let me visit them. That is all I care about. Maybe I will be able to sleep at night then. If I could only sleep now. But first I must move Jacklyn to the middle, between me and Antonio. I don’t want to wake him. He needs these few hours of peace. Before tomorrow comes.

No such law

I’ve been away from immigration law for six months now, but I can tell you this: There is no law that requires undocumented children and parents to be separated. If there were such an absurd law, you would have known about it long ago. Family unity is a fundamental principle of our immigration laws. You find it written into all aspects of our laws.

There are various laws and regulations that require certain removable aliens to be detained. Some criminals and those who pose a terrorist or security threat must be detained. Others may be detained or have a reasonable bond set if they are a danger to the community and/or are a flight risk. A lack of strong ties to the U.S. or the lack of any legally valid basis for remaining here generally indicate that the individual may be a flight risk.

If a parent is detained for one of the above reasons, then obviously the child cannot be kept with the parent in an adult detention facility and must be placed elsewhere. Undocumented children are not kept in immigration jails. Under the Flores v. Reno class action settlement, such children must be placed in the “least restrictive” setting appropriate to their age and needs. This might be a licensed group home or foster home, if no other relative is available. They go to school, receive medical care, counseling, etc.

Homeland Security has built family detention centers with family living units, but there are tens of thousands more families than can be accommodated. And other class action lawsuits have caused some of these centers to be shut down.

Family separations are thus an unfortunate, albeit temporary, situation that comes with immigration enforcement. Such separation should never be used as a deliberate policy.

Do you want good government or don’t you?

I’m Faith Wellernd and I approve this ad. . .

I believe I am qualified to be Governor of California because I have worked in all the branches of California government for many years, in leadership positions. Most recently I have been Lieutenant Governor and was Acting Governor for nine months while the Governor was recovering from heart surgery.

The problems we face are complicated and there are no simple answers or guarantees that we will overcome them. I can only promise that I will work hard and do my best to find those answers. I would like to lower taxes but only if we can meet the needs of the people of this State without spending as much as we spend now.

My opponent, Ernest Phelluh, would also make a good Governor. He has a great deal of experience and always does a good job. He is honest and sincere. He believes that California should meet its clean energy goals by emphasizing wind power over solar power. I believe that the emphasis should be more on solar power. So while I fundamentally disagree with him, I understand and respect his point of view.

Here’s some moderately-flattering footage of me digging the first shovelful at the groundbreaking for a new school. Here’s some moderately-flattering footage of Ernest cutting the ribbon on a new transit line.

Please consider both of our records and our platforms and vote for the candidate who you feel would best govern this State. Thank you.

PAID FOR BY THE CALIFORNIA MONEYLESS AND SLIME-FREE PUBLIC CAMPAIGN REFORM FUND

Uniformly qualified

     Yesterday, another free-wheeling random-style revenge shooting. Besides all the other things that ought to be said, I want to say something about the local police chiefs and sheriffs whom we see on television briefing the press after these horrific shootings. Whether they’re heads of large urban police forces or small town sheriffs, these men and women are, without exception, well-spoken, responsive, professional and eminently competent. And this is under extremely stress-filled circumstances.

     They choose their words carefully, they don’t twist facts, they don’t exhibit bias. They are candid yet cautious. This is not to say that these local officials are heroes or saints. This just makes me wonder why so many of our senators, governors, cabinet members, White House officials, and especially White House occupants, have none of these qualities. Why are there so many good people in government, and so few really good ones at the very top?

“Going once, going twice, sold!”

It hasn’t sunk in yet. Even after four months. That the Presidency of our nation is now just a piece of property. That can be acquired. That can be acquired through dealings and leveraging. Through bids and transactions, proffers and presents.  In other words, the Office of President has finally been privatized.

It’s no longer regulated. It can make its own rules. It can do, say, decree, undecree, prioritize, deprioritize, reveal, conceal, validate or invalidate whatever it wants, whenever it wants, and however it wants. It now owns us, we don’t own it.

I hear it’s planning on selling off the Constitution, one Article at a time. The Bill of Rights will be sold at auction. Cash or letters of credit only.

The H-word

Never has one man been called so many names by so many people. Never before has any man deserved to be called so many names by so many people. Demagogue, bully, fascist, misogynist, lummox. Lummox?

I have called him quite a few myself. I think I’ve finally decided which one is the most fitting. But nevermind that.

Here’s what’s bothering me: Doesn’t it feel good to attach colorful epithets to someone we consider so malicious? Why is that? Why do we enjoy making it personal? The question I’m really asking is: Is it OK to attack hateful ideas or hurtful rhetoric with hurt and hate? Is it OK to hate hate?

That’s a moral question, or maybe psychological. I’m not sure I want to know the answer, even if there is one. I sort of hope it is OK, because I can’t help it. I do hate hate. But only hateful hate, not the unhateful hate that only hates hateful hate.

Maybe the best we can ask of ourselves is that we keep careful track of our emotions and our reasons. Why we do or say the things we do. And judge ourselves as we do the people we call names. It’s a work in progress. Kind of like democracy.

 

It Can’t Happen Here — Sinclair Lewis

“Aw, shoot, Dad—and you too, Julian, you young paranoiac—you’re monomaniacs! Dictatorship? Better come into the office and let me examine your heads! Why, America’s the only free nation on earth. Besides! Country’s too big for a revolution. No, no! Couldn’t happen here!”

I just read the most amazing book I’ve read since 1984 (the book, not the year). Possibly the most amazing since 1973 (the year, not the book). Actually, Sinclair Lewis’s novel It Can’t Happen Here, which was published in 1935, predated 1984 (the book, not the year) by fourteen years. Which means that Lewis did not have the benefit of hindsight when he recognized what too few people seemed to recognize around the middle of the Great Depression. Sinclair Lewis saw what was happening in Europe. He also heard frighteningly similar rumblings in this country. His book, written half a decade before the true magnitude of European fascism could be witnessed and understood, was a chillingly accurate forecast.

So did Lewis also predict what we in the U.S. have just witnessed and are struggling to understand: the election as President of a populist demagogue, in the mold of Senator Buzz Windrip in the novel? Well, Lewis’s protagonist, liberal journalist Doremus Jessup, listens only half-concerned to the national radio broadcast of the nominating convention, but the similarity is striking:

. . . every delegate knew that Mr. Roosevelt and Miss Perkins were far too lacking in circus tinsel and general clownishness to succeed at this critical hour of the nation’s hysteria, when the electorate wanted a ringmaster-revolutionist like Senator Windrip.

Though Lewis begins his book in satirical tone, we’re not too many chapters in before we realize, along with Doremus, that this story—the rise of a political movement based on anger, hate and false rhetoric—is no joke. It is nearly, in fact, as powerful and sobering as Orwell’s 1984. Here is how Doremus saw Senator/President Windrip’s quasi-official partisans, the “Minute Men”, or “M.M.”, which protected Windrip’s surging popularity by terrorizing the general population and appealing to its basest impulses:

They had the Jews and the Negroes to look down on, more and more. The M.M.’s saw to that. Every man is a king so long as he has someone to look down on. . . . Their mutter became louder, less human, more like the snap of burning rafters. Their glances joined in one. He was, frankly, scared.

Could Lewis have had the Nazi SS in mind? Seems likely.

I just realized that, for better or for worse, many of my favorite books are about the oppression of large segments of society by vindictive, self-righteous governments or ruling classes. A Tale of Two Cities, The Grapes of Wrath, In Dubious Battle, Mother, Doctor Zhivago, Homage To Catalonia, Fahrenheit 451, and the two brave books discussed above. You should probably read these books, all of these books, while they’re still on our shelves. Before they start hurling them into big piles in our city squares and torching them. Which is what happened to Doremus Jessup’s personal collection of books. Which could happen here.