Notes from the Border by Michael Gelder
My dad, Michael Gelder, spent a few weeks volunteering in Tijuana, trying to support the humanitarian crisis our immigration system and international policy has created for people seeking asylum in the United States. This entry reflects his experiences, insights on the systems at play, and lessons he learned.
*****
January
2019
I haven’t posted anything to Facebook in a while, but it seems
like the right platform to share my thoughts from Tijuana, Mexico (TJ). I
arrived here Tuesday, Jan. 8 to volunteer with Al Otro Lado, a bi-national,
direct legal services organization serving indigent deportees, migrants, and
refugees in Tijuana, Mexico. Inquiring minds have asked these, or similar
questions, so here are some answers.
I should note that I am finding this to be the most intense
emotional experience of my life, which creates havoc when trying to rationally
describe what I’m doing and share the roller coaster of emotions. The first
part covers my daily life as a volunteer. Boring, by and large, but may be of
interest to those contemplating a similar commitment and wondering what you do
all day. Skip to “What’s it like to be there?” for more on my emotions in the
context of how we treat asylum seekers.
Why am I here?
I’m in Tijuana to do what I can to witness and support the refugees
and those who are offering them some measure of comfort and assistance. I am
here as an act of resistance. I am enraged that my government is treating
refugees, including those seeking asylum, as unwanted flotsam. As a human
being, and perhaps particularly as a Jew, I care deeply about the plight of
refugees, anywhere in the world. With this catastrophe occurring in my own
“backyard” I felt compelled to do more than simply donate to a relief agency.
This was an opportunity to engage personally with them and
demonstrate my support and compassion. There is nothing like being on the scene
to learn about it and experience it through my own eyes and ears, rather than
filtered through the press, government, or website descriptions.
Why am I here alone?
My wife, Mary Rita Luecke, was offered a job with our Cook
County Commissioner, who lost two staff members unexpectedly this summer. She I
had planned several months ago to take off the month of January to begin
exploring how retirement might feel. We were both not going to teach this
semester and I had arranged not to undertake any consulting that would require
work during the month. Mary Rita was very interested in this work opportunity
in a downtown office setting, a situation she hasn’t had since we had children
more than 30 years ago. So, she decided to accept the new job and is loving it
and enjoying the work scene, with new work friends and work issues to talk
about every night. And I continued with Plan A.
How did I decide to work with Al Otro Lado?
I learned of several organizations doing great, challenging work
on both sides of the border in Texas and California. I found two types of
organizations, those engaged primarily to support refugees and deportees, led
by missionaries or those with a similar approach to relieving suffering, and
groups primarily challenging the U.S. policies by providing legal support. My
interests and personality aligned better with those actively trying to right
the wrongs of U.S. policies.
I learned of AOL through National Lawyers Guild friends at the
end of December and my cousin Judy Flegel’s son, Isaac Mishlov, a law student
at UC Berkeley, who volunteered here the last week in December,
enthusiastically recommended it. I applied through an elaborate online form
they have posted to which they did not respond, but Isaac assured me that they
would put me to work if I showed up, which I did, and they did, too. I flew to
San Diego Jan. 7, used public transportation to get to the San Ysidro border
crossing, walked across the pedestrian bridge, entered Mexico and took a taxi
to the hotel I rented for a week, all the while hoping there’d be something
constructive for me to do while here.
What does AOL do?
AOL challenges the current policies by educating the refugees
about U.S. immigration law and preparing those who are in Tijuana to achieve
their goal of gaining permanent entry to the United States through asylum. It
is also suing the U.S. government to abide by its asylum laws and regulations,
which it violates by not immediately accepting asylum claims at border
crossings. There is no provision in U.S. or international law for the current
practice of limiting access to a trickle a day, 30-50 (with the vast wealth of
the United States and the billions devoted to border security, it could only
muster the resources at the San Ysidro border to process 30 individuals fleeing
terror and persecution yesterday) since I’ve been here, with thousands still
waiting a turn and more arriving every day (60 were added yesterday).
To mitigate the chaos of the backlog, the U.S. has agreed,
informally, with Mexico to establish waiting lists at border crossing points so
only those individuals and families who are near the top of the list every day
need come to the crossing point prepared to enter and seek asylum. The list is
managed now by refugees themselves, following incidents of corruption (money
and sex) to manipulate favorable placement on the list, when the list was first
established by Mexican authorities in December.
In TJ, Al Otro Lago has one paid employee and is otherwise
entirely staffed by volunteers, of whom there have been 20-50 on any given day
this week. The people change every day, but the functions continue unabated.
This is most akin to a political campaign, with a paid manager and everyone
else volunteering. Since the large numbers of refugees began arriving in late
November, AOL in TJ has attracted more than 500 individual volunteers and
offers training and support for Central American refugees seven days a week.
Until November, AOL offered training and personal interviews with a bilingual
immigration staff attorney just twice per week.
The purpose of all this work is to make sure that everyone
seeking asylum is fully informed about U.S. asylum policies, has had an
interview with an attorney, and based on that information, makes an informed
decision whether to seek asylum, and, if so, is prepared as possible to present
their claim as credibly as possible. The TJ program manager has engineered this
incredible leap in activity and productivity. He leads on-boarding training for
new volunteers and veterans (more than 12 hours) meeting every morning to scope
out the day, assign leads and volunteers to functions, and a de-briefing every
evening. This meeting provides an opportunity for everyone to express their
sorrows and joys, report on what happened during the day, identify ways to
improve and anticipate the next day’s activities. Days start early—7 AM with
attorneys and other volunteers fanning out across the El Chaparral plaza where
the names are called daily for refugees who will be allowed to cross by the U.S.
Customs and Border Patrol (CBP). These volunteers answer their urgent questions,
help those who have not been educated understand the next steps in their
request for asylum, and invite people to the daily AOL cachara (chat) if
they’re not crossing that day. Days end around 6 PM after the last meetings of
the day to prepare for the next day have ended at which point groups, go out to
dinner and then, exhausted, back to their Airbnbs or local hotels.
The full-time AOL staff member in TJ provides the inspiration
and leadership to make it all work. So far, attorneys, law students, Spanish
and non-Spanish speaking volunteers appear each day and the get the work done.
And the work gets done again the next day but with a slightly different set of
volunteers as some leave and new ones arrive. It’s very akin to the surgical
residency practice of “see one, do one, teach one”.
What awaits them at the border?
The lessons they learn from the AOL attorneys prepare them for
the most important step in the asylum process—the Credible Fear Interview with
CBP. Unfortunately, this interview with CBP does not until weeks or months
after they are allowed to cross the border. Families will be separated with men
and women and children going to separate holding cells called “hieleras,” or
“icebox” in Spanish because they are kept frigid, ostensibly to reduce disease,
but which punishes asylum seekers and induces self-deportation. Reports of the
unrelenting cold that causes children’s and adults’ fingers and toes to turn
blue, lips to crack, etc. seems, according to more recent reports from refugees
who emerge, to last longer now, up to two weeks, when it was previously only 72
hours under the Obama administration. Refugees are allowed to wear only one
layer of clothing, so we hand out sweat socks and advise them to wear their
warmest clothes closest to their body, which they’ll still have after they’re
ordered to take off everything else.
After their time in the icebox, they will be sent to detention
centers, (prisons for refugees) which are located all around the country. This
assignment often determines the family’s fate. It’s entirely possible for a
father, mother, and child to be sent to disparate parts of the country, where
they will live for months. It’s at the detention center where they will have
their credible fear interview with an English-speaking CBP officer, and a
translator, usually by phone or satellite. They will be deported if they don’t
convince the officer they have a significant possibility of establishing their
claim of persecution based on race or
ethnicity, religion, nationality, political opinion, or because the person
belongs to a specific social group. These are not simple categories to
understand, especially with a language barrier, and the interview is crucial,
yet there is no right to or any opportunity to have an attorney present to
argue on your behalf. This is the “interview” for which the AOL volunteer
attorneys help them prepare.
The detention center assignment is critical because the rates of
asylum approvals vary, from single digits in the Atlanta region to well more
than most in San Francisco. The region of the country where they are assigned
predicts whether they will be successful better than the actual case they
present, according to the immigration attorneys and AOL staff, who have tracked
thousands of cases.
What am I doing?
 |
| Serving food donated by World Central Kitchens. |
Depending on your skills and length of commitment, you get
assigned or can request to work on any or several of the dozen particular
function. Given this is a legal support organization operating in Tijuana,
legal training, immigration experience and speaking Spanish are essential
skills. I have none of the above and was anxious about what role I might play.
I needn't have worried. The functions of running this operation
seven days a week from 7 am to 6 pm assure that there are important
contributions people can make regardless of their language ability, training
and education. They need help with everything from handing out fliers at the
plaza every day, to maintaining security in the building where AOL operates
(some refugees who were targets in their home countries continue to be targeted
in Tijuana), to data entry, to scanning important client documents, to
cleaning, and basic clerical and support work. Through whatever magical sorting
hat the volunteer operations leader wore, I was asked to work on three teams
but the primary one, for which I became the lead on the second day, is food service.
Each day AOL serves approximately 100 meals to the refugees who
attend their education and information sessions, their children, and the
volunteers if any food is left over. The food is prepared by World Central
Kitchens, an NGO that sets up kitchens to feed those impacted by natural
disasters around the world. I understand Tijuana is their first foray into
helping with man- made disasters. But the volume of refugees many hundreds of
miles from home with no way to eat on their own prompted them to set up shop
here, where they serve more than 3,000 meals per day. The place where they
prepare all these meals is an amazing operation. Please check them out and
consider giving generously to their work. They’re literally keeping people
alive.
We pick up carts with trays of food for lunch and bring back the
empty trays the next day when we pick up the new food. There is also a crate of
100 apples or oranges every day, as well. Meals alternate between hot
casseroles (chilechanga yesterday) and sandwiches (turkey and cheese today). On
hot meal days, we also get and another container of everything we could
possibly need to serve 100 meals: plastic table cloth, cloth aprons, tape,
disposable gloves, serving spoons, plastic utensils, and paper serving boats.
As the lead, I’m responsible for retrieving the food, packed in
very heavy containers, and carts on hot food days, that require at least two
people for lifting), carrying them in and out of an Uber, carrying them up to
the third floor, setting up the room and preparing for clients to eat around
12:30 pm. I/we also clean up after they leave around 4 PM and get the room
ready for the end of the daily debrief. While I was there, we innovated by
adding a 5 gal. water dispenser so they can have water with their meal.
This is a remarkable organization. There’s no budget so the
volunteers chip in to cover costs. There is no van for the schlepping; on
several days I took Uber to and from the kitchen and one day a volunteer had a
car and she dropped off and picked on her own.
My other two functions are health clinic organization and
documentation. There is a health clinic on the 2nd floor of the four-story cooperative
building they operate from. The clinic is not officially operated by AOL but
the refugees who come for the education and training (and lunch!) are able to
see a doctor, an herbalist, medic and others volunteering from a variety of
U.S. university medical schools or on their own, during the afternoon. During
the mornings, the medical team visits the shelters where thousands of refugees
still live, in desperate conditions, along with even more deportees. I helped
sort and stock the exam room with items donated from clinics and hospitals
around the world. It is very rudimentary, but the docs and nurses are kind,
efficient, knowledgeable about care in these crisis situations.
The documentation team scans the important documents and photos
clients bring to the interviews with attorneys following the training sessions
and are essential to make their case for asylum. Documentation is another
innovation, designed by a volunteer, to make a digital copy of every important
document in case they get lost or destroyed. These documents have survived a
lot through their ordeal getting to the border but there are reports they are
routinely lost or misplaced by CBP and makes it easier to deny asylum due to
lack of documentation. The scanned images are available in secured files
accessible only to the client or a loved one they trust.
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| One of the children whose family received services through Al Otro Lado. |
I have also gravitated to Play Time when there is downtime on
the chow line. This is the space at the back of the room where the interviews
are taking place where volunteers play with the children. For three hours, we
entertain the children in every way possible. There are usually 10- 15 children,
from toddlers to young adolescents that love being held, getting to play with
toys, games, balls, bubbles, dominoes, whatever’s been donated. Kids are
allowed to take with them whatever they want and are so excited, I mean
gleeful, to have a new toy or car or doll or game of their own. They’ve been
without for a very long time.
And in spare moments, I also work on the mystery of one man,
who's homeless and visits the center every day, although he’s not technically
eligible for AOL’s help because he’s not a refugee seeking asylum. This man is
in his 50s and is lost. He maintains that he’s a green card holder who was
attacked and injured in California, and awoke in a hospital, not sure which
one. ICE found and deported him to Mexico. That’s how he got to Tijuana. He
knows no one here and has been homeless for some time. He claims to have a wife
and daughter in California who may be looking for him but doesn’t remember
their telephone numbers or email addresses. He is very sweet with a warm gentle
smile and very grateful for the food and any assistance we offer him. The
attorneys can’t spend more time with him so when I see him in the food line, I
usually take some time to talk about his situation. I verified he was a patient
at a UC Hospital, but we have no way to retrieve his medical records since he
doesn’t have an address and AOL can’t formally represent him. His full
immigration record has been FOIA’d, which will shed more light on his status
but that will take months. The company he thinks his daughter works for has a
phone that is constantly busy. My fear is he has a wife and daughter somewhere
and will die in TJ without them ever hearing from him again.
What’s it like to be here?
It’s the most intense work I’ve ever done, anywhere, anytime,
anyplace. (Not because of the workload, per se. Dishing out 100 meals someone
else has cooked is not exhausting.) Perhaps it’s the combination of being away
from home, alone, on foreign soil, not knowing the language commonly spoken,
and being constantly overwhelmed by the self-inflicted humanitarian disaster I
witness daily. Every person in that food line, every person I see talking to
lawyers is someone who is fleeing violence, poverty, corruption, extreme gang
violence, unspeakable brutality. Gang rapes, murders, decapitations,
disappearances, arson of homes and businesses, kidnapping of loved ones, ...
the list goes on, are routinely cited as reasons for leaving their home and
country. (This is what’s depicted in the photos we scan.) And every person I
encounter has endured subsequent months of grueling travel, much of it on foot,
many with children in hand bound for the U.S.
Even after additional months of homelessness in Tijuana, they
believe, still, with all their soul that they will be welcomed in the U.S. and
protected from the horrors they’ve endured. Oh, those naïve souls. Didn’t they
get the Fox News talking points? Didn’t they hear our President? Don’t they
know...what we’re really like these days?
So, our role with AOL is to help prepare them, warn them, help
them understand their chances, and make the best decision possible among the
horrible options they face, and, if they want to proceed, how to plead their
case for asylum in the best possible way to give them a fighting chance to
avoid deportation.
Reflections
This is the closest I’ve ever been to people caught up in a
historical maelstrom. I’m talking with, feeding, playing with the children
whose plight will be the paragraphs of future history books. The wealthiest
nation in the history of civilization turning its back on the exodus of several
thousand least fortunate. Since being here, I’ve thought the Egyptian Jews were
lucky they only had the Red Sea to cross. If it was the U.S. CBP, we’d be a
lost footnote in history.
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| Artwork the young girl photographed above left behind to help decorate the center. |
Aside from the devastating historical implications, the
immediate is emotionally overwhelming. I cry, literally, as I play with
children who could be, within days dead, separated from their parents or, at
best separated from their parents, and much later reunited. Where, when, what will
happen to them, I’ll never know. They’re happy and hopeful today, but the day
their number is called, and they get on the bus that takes them 5 minutes to
the border and CBP, their lives will change forever. For some, it will be the
blessing they’ve sought and deserve. But the numbers predict a sadder outcome
for most—deportation back to their native country, where if they were targeted
before, they will be sitting ducks upon their return. This is happening now to
those who are failing their critical fear interview and are sent back to
Honduras and Guatemala.
And I cry (still talking real tears) thinking of my children.
How am I or how are they so fortunate to never have experienced anything
remotely so horrifying? I didn’t deserve the wealth and privilege I was born
into any more than these folks deserve the terrors they’ve endured. I see the
fathers and mothers and think, what would I do in their situations? How would
Mary Rita and I sort out our options and decide what course to follow? How did
they end up in Tijuana awaiting their turn to emigrate with a small chance to
succeed? The best I can learn from the lawyers and the few conversations with
those who speak English is that they felt they had no choice. They made the
decisions, day by day, that they thought were in their and their family’s best
interest, just as I do. (I'm being or my partner is being beaten, raped, robbed
repeatedly, otherwise threatened and the police won't do anything--then get out
of town. Grab what I can carry and join up with others for safety, head north
to the U.S. where I might be safe and, at last, live my dream mot a nightmare.)
Being in Tijuana was not their Plan A. And I accept that. Hence,
it becomes my obligation, as a fellow human being, to help make this choice
work for them, as I would want and desperately need help if I was a refugee.
Just as a little more kindness, a little more sacrifice would have saved
millions of lives in previous tragedies, I feel obligated to be the help they
need now.
I am so grateful for this opportunity to show solidarity with
them and resistance to our president, witness the suffering, and help in these
small ways. I can’t urge my friends and family enough to get involved in this
fight, however you’re motivated. Send yourselves or send a check. Or go to Al
Otro Lado‘s Amazon wish list to provide supplies for clients and us volunteers.
Or find another organization to help. There are dozens out there. And don’t
forget the amazing work of World Central Kitchen. This is a time to fight for
justice, let’s not let it slip by.
P.S.
I’ve been asked what the reaction is to the government shutdown
over the “wall.” There is no reaction. There is no attention paid to the
president, his speeches, tweets, etc., among the people I’ve been working with.
The humanitarian crisis and need for immediate legal support overwhelms
political considerations for those on the ground. AOL and others are suing to
force the government to comply with U.S. (and international) law. And the
immigration attorneys who come down to help are immersed in the legal battles
at home. But the consensus seems to be that this was bad, before Trump was
elected. It’s gotten much worse, with the “caravan” and he’s continuing, exacerbating,
but also illuminating the illegal U.S. policies regarding people seeking
asylum. It’s going to take a while to undo policies that have been in place
decades. So, anything that we think will work, we should do. Doing nothing will
change nothing.
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