Word of the Year 2019: Action: A Refugee Shelter

Casa Alitas in the old monastery. Tucson, Arizona. July 2019.

Casa Alitas is a shelter for refugees in Tucson. It's a beehive of hope administered by Catholic Community Services of Southern Arizona, overseen by a handful of paid staff, but kept buzzing by a swarm of volunteer worker bees.

When I hit Tucson in the spring, Casa Alitas was in an old monastery on Campbell Street.

Casa Alitas in the old monastery. Tucson, Arizona. August 2019.

Orientation


At the volunteer orientation I attended in early June, I heard these statements from the presenters (some paraphrased by me) about the women, men, and children who arrive at Casa Alitas. Assume that any factual errors are mine, due to misunderstanding on my part, and not the presenters' errors.

• The City of Tucson opened two shelters for a few days, and stopped the sending of refugees to Casa Alitas, but after about three days, realized it was out of its depth. 
• Border Patrol (BP) and Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) used to give Casa Alitas advance notice of numbers and a list of names of incoming refugees, but sometimes now we might only get 15 minutes advance notice of incoming guests and no idea of how many people to expect. 
• BP/ICE make a LOT of mistakes on the paperwork they give to the refugees they process. Sometimes the year is wrong, for example.
• We didn't used to need security guards at the shelter, but anti-immigration activists have entered the monastery campus for intimidation purposes.
• [At the time of this early-June orientation] the shelter transfers out 50-60 refugees per day toward their destinations within the US.

"[Upon arrival], we remove the Border Patrol (BP)/Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) bracelets because they are not numbers anymore; they are a person."

"We reassure them they are in the United States. Often they have been moved from one place to another by BP/ICE, without being told where they are going, so they don't know if they were taken back to Mexico or where they are."

"[Upon arrival] we give them chicken soup, because often they have had little to eat for a long time. They will get sick if we give them flour (which they are unaccustomed to) or if we give them too much to eat too soon."

"Some adults enter the US for asylum not only with their children, but nieces or nephews whose parents were killed. Often they don't have the 'right' documentation to prove their relationships. So the nieces or nephews are separated from their guardians and taken to other locations."




The overarching message I received from orientation was this: The refugees are our guests and we shall treat them as such.

Casa Alitas in the old monastery. Tucson, Arizona. July 2019.

Volunteers come from around the US

One day when I reported for a volunteer shift, I met a group of women and men who'd come down to Tucson from Colorado Springs for the sole purpose of volunteering at Casa Alitas for a week. All day, every day, they volunteered.

I also met a registered nurse from New York. She and her husband were semi-full-time RVers who, while they lingered in Tucson, volunteered at the shelter a few months earlier. They eventually returned to their New York home base, but she couldn't stop thinking about Casa Alitas. So she came back alone, this time making her temporary home in a room at the monastery. 


A herculean operation

Some days, more than a hundred refugees arrived at the shelter. 

I so admire the coordinators who somehow make it all work. And the volunteers who donate goods and time, who cook and who serve meals, and who sort clothes, and who help guests find the clothes and shoes in the right sizes, and who provide medical care, and who drive people to the bus station, and who offer a safe place for guests to fall asleep with one's family. And who honor their dignity.


The monastery closes and a new shelter home opens

At the end of August, Casa Alitas moved to a county-owned facility. More on this in another post.

By the end of its tenure in the old monastery, the shelter's security had to be tightened almost to a lock-down mode because of the threatening presence of anti-immigration activists.

Word of the Year 2019: Action: Lipstick and Salvation

Adelita comics, Museum of the Revolution, Juarez, Chihuahua, Mexico. February 2017.

Curious juxtapositions.

A security contingent for President Bush the Younger breaks a homemade, Pray for Peace, sign that my friend, Kate, brought to a protest.

Kate and presidential security at protest in Jefferson City, Missouri. Photo credit: Jenna Isaacson. April 2006.

A devilish dilemma between celestial salvation and the earthly decadence of pie, in tiny Rodeo, New Mexico.

Salvation or decadent pie? Rodeo, New Mexico. March 2013.

The promise of cookies to munch while talking of oppression and privilege at UTEP in El Paso.

Brown bag lunch for privilege and oppression series, UTEP. El Paso, March 2017.

In today's post, it's about action and lipstick. 


There is a little 12-step treatise that guides the reader how to manage a day. In one section, it goes like this:

Just for today: I will be agreeable. I will look as well as I  can, dress becomingly, keep  my voice low, be courteous, ...

Which takes me to good counsel from my mother many years ago about the value of making one's bed every day and cleaning off the kitchen counters. "These are small and easy tasks," she said, "but they make a tremendous impact" on how a room looks and how you feel.

There are so many unmanageable events, conditions, and people around us. I can give myself a little quality-of-life order in a chaotic world by making my bed, wiping down a kitchen counter, wearing clothes that I feel pretty in ... and putting on lipstick.

It's not only about me.

In one of my past lives, I was a cog in a government program designed to help low-income dads find sustainable work so they could better support their kids financially.** At one program design meeting, a colleague proposed that we refer to ourselves and our dad-clients by our first names so the men would "feel more comfortable." It rankled me then; it rankles me now. It bespoke a fundamental disrespect for the men, unintentional on its surface, but deep down, a presumption that there was a lack of honorifics in the men's personal communities.

This might seem to veer away from a conversation about lipstick and salvation, but for me, there's a connection. Because, sure, when I apply lipstick, it is about me, and my desire to "look as well as I can, to dress becomingly, ...." But when I apply lipstick on my way out the door to support, or protest, or walk in alliance with someone, it is also me giving that person or group the same kind of respect that I give to a companion if we were to go to a fine restaurant or a party or out dancing.

(A man once lamented to me how his mother puts lipstick on for the arrival of his brother, but never for him, which, in his mind, proves that their mother values his brother more than him.)

So I had to smile a few weeks ago when I did my first water run with Humane Borders. Our group of four bounced and bumped on a rutted gravel-then-dirt road in a big ol' truck to places only visited with any frequency by Harris hawks and jack rabbits. At one of the water barrel stations, we took a snack break, after which one of my fellow volunteers shared regretfully, "Oh, I left my lipstick at home, and now that I've had a bite to eat, I can't re-apply any." I laughed appreciatively. Yes! I knew exactly the disappointment!

A week later, I answered an urgent evening call for volunteers to welcome the arrival of 30 new refugee guests at the Benedictine Monastery-cum-refugee shelter. As I approached the main door, another volunteer met me. She informed me that the guests had been successfully absorbed into the shelter, so neither of us were needed, adding, "And here I'd put on my lipstick and came over as soon as I could!"

And I laughed, and exclaimed: "Me, too!"

I'm no Adelita with stiletto heels and cinched waist, but lipstick, oh yes. Bring it to the revolution.

I'm pretty sure she's wearing lipstick. La Batalla Por Juarez, Carlos Flores, Chamizal National Monument exhibit, El Paso, Texas. October 2016.

** Tee hee hee. "Sustainable work." That's how things began, but they soon segued into funneling folks into low-paying, low-to-no-benefit jobs in chicken and turkey processing plants.

Word of the Year 2019: Action: Escaping Despair

Benson Sculpture Garden. Loveland, Colorado. May 2016.

It seems unreasonable to confess the despair that pulls me out to the deep water sometimes, like a riptide; hard to escape, easy to drown in.

Benson Sculpture Garden. Loveland, Colorado. May 2016.

After all, I have sufficient food, clothing, and shelter, income, and a general expectation of predictability in what will happen in my life tomorrow and the day after, inshallah. I am healthy. 

"Long Walk," by Shonto Begayl. Bosque Redondo Memorial, New Mexico. September 2013.

Fortunately, the despair hits only sporadically.

"Long Walk," by C Ortiz. Bosque Redondo Memorial, New Mexico. September 2013.

What is almost a constant, though, is this new-to-me chronic anxiety that pulses as it sips at my thought life, a surreptitious leech.

Child of slavery, by Woodrow Nash. Slavery Museum, Whitney Plantation, Louisiana. March 2015.

Have I grown more sensitive to caffeine? Not eating enough kale? Eating too much wheat? A part of the natural aging process? Maybe I'm dehydrated? Am I yoga-deficient? Delayed reaction to vaccines of my childhood?

No. I know from my research into and delivery of burnout and stress management seminars that we, as humans, tend to deny, discount, and dismiss the contributing factors, the extent, and the effects that prolonged stress has on our mental, emotional, and physical health.

"Coming Home," by Rod Moorehead. Slavery Museum, Whitney Plantation, Louisiana. March 2015.

There are those among us in the United States - some of our own family members, neighbors, colleagues, faith leaders - who want to justify crimes against humanity, both domestic and international. These folks want to blame the women, men, and children who seek to rescue themselves from danger, who want to claim their unalienable rights to liberty, justice, and the pursuit of happiness.

Dia de los Muertos, Mesilla, Las Cruces, New Mexico. November 2012.

The Americans who stand at the bridge and block escape or who actively hunt down children, men, and children to imprison or expel them, or who criminalize people who are using their good sense and courage to save themselves and their children from untenable conditions .... these Americans think their actions affect only those they block, grab, detain, or expel.

The Wall, Columbus, NM-Puerto Palomas, MX. April 2013.

But these actions by our fellow Americans are toxic clouds that rain poison upon all life, including themselves, their mates, their children.

These actions change us, whether we are perpetrators, collaborators, bystanders, or upstanders.

So. Sometimes I get pulled into despair.

Action is necessary to escape despair and to alleviate chronic anxiety

The riptide model


I borrow from this fine video on riptides, which offers a summary about surviving a rip current:

1. Stay calm. 
2. Conserve energy. "If you attempt to fight the current, you will just expend all your energy and strength. Which will lead to tragic consequences."
3. Just relax and go with the flow. (Note: In the context of these dark days, I translate this as it being my role to walk alongside those who suffer - not to "save" or "solve," but to take actions as an ally to support others' self-determination.) 
4. Keep afloat, weigh your options, and don't exhaust yourself.

"The 187," by Carlos Flores, Chamizal National Monument, El Paso, Texas. October 2016.

Remember my place

It is an action of mindset to honor others' self-determination and self-rescue. It fixes my role.

In El Paso, I learned from a group of Catholic sisters that:

As sisters (they said):

• It is our job to go where no one else wants to go and do what no one else wants to do.
• We work on the margins.
• We try to live as though there is no border. Those of us who can cross, should cross and behave as if there is no border.
• We need to tell the stories to those people in the country who don't have the privilege to live here, on the border.
• It's not important to [the mothers at the Santo Niño Project] that we solve a problem; it's important that we accompany them. 

Recently, I received this open letter from the IFCLA in St. Louis. It came on a day of despair. Excerpts from the text:

I know that many of you are worried, scared, angry, confused, and eager to take action in light of all of the news and information circulating regarding threats of increased immigration enforcement. .....

It is important that we actively work together against the fear and hatred that are already traumatizing our communities. ....We must not contribute to fear, panic, chaos, or trauma. We must remember that immigrants and their families are the ones who should make decisions for their own lives. Whatever those decisions may be, as allies, accomplices and people of faith and good will, we are called to honor their integrity and liberty in ways that are supportive, respectful, and selfless. This is how we honor the dignity of all, especially in times where our own drive to be saviors, fixers, helpers and healers can misshape our good intentions into harmful impacts.

In the St. Louis region during the last several decades, immigration enforcement has not stopped, waned, or ceased to impact immigrants and their families, loved ones, colleagues and friends on a daily basis. Raids are not new. Targeting immigrant families is not new. Threatening massive deportations is not new. ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) is present in St. Louis, in Missouri and in Illinois. Local police regularly collaborate with and facilitate immigration enforcement in our region every single day. The latest flurry of public statements, news articles and social media turmoil regarding the Administration’s call for mass deportations in the coming days may be indicative of a new wave of enforcement operations in select cities, but this is a continuation of everything we have been fighting against for decades .....

..... Please be prepared to show up, support, interrupt, and disrupt whatever may happen. .... make sure you are spreading accurate information about your rights and the rights of immigrants. Trust your relationships, trust your colleagues, and trust the individuals and organizations that are in deep relationships with immigrant communities in St. Louis. Trust that if there is a need and an opportunity for allies and accomplices to show up, you will be informed and instructed, and that call will be rooted in the needs and demands of our immigrant neighbors.

As we consistently have done for years, we still urge you to speak out against ICE, against all immigration enforcement, and all actions that violate our shared values. Please call your elected officials at all levels of government to denounce the targeting of immigrants and their families. Please call your members of Congress (210-702-3059) and demand they cut all funding from the Deportation Force. Please call the national office of ICE (888-907-6635) and denounce the Administration’s statements, any operation that would destroy families and individual lives in our communities. .....

Please do not spread fear. Please do not sensationalize tactics that are always present in our communities - regardless of when the news, the President, or other leaders speak of it directly. Stay the course, my friends. Our community needs our calm, non-anxious presence now and always. Our community needs you to commit to changing the systems every single day, not just at the moment of chaos.....

I read a quote from Scott Warren, in which he referred to "self-rescue." That the women, men, and children trekking into the United States are rescuing themselves from insupportable conditions at home. The moment I read this, it solidified further what the sisters and IFCLA say.

It confers full respect and dignity in the individuals and families making the best decisions they can based on the information and the resources they have on hand.

My bouts of despair and worry do nothing to serve others. To paraphrase a quote I hear via 12-step meetings:

"It's easier to act myself into new ways of thinking than to think myself into new ways of acting." 

Word of the Year 2019: Action: Penpal

The mail goes on. Roots n Blues in Columbia, Missouri. September 2007.

Many years ago, while attending university, I met an Ethiopian post-graduate student named Taye Woldesemayat. He was a TA and a student in the school's political science department, which is where I did my work-study job.

Taye made a big impact on me by way of a story he told while we shared a pizza one day:

In Ethiopia, as land was handed down to sons by their fathers, their descendants - subsistence farmers - owned smaller and smaller pieces of land as it was divvied up with their brothers. The plots of land were becoming too small to support cattle, the traditional livestock of choice. Some smart people, perhaps with USAID, had a great idea: Encourage the subsistence farmers to switch from cows to goats. The goats provide meat and milk like cows, but take up less space and consume fewer resources.

Upon hearing this, I said, "Hey, that is a great idea. Creative!"

And Taye said, "No, it's forcing the farmers to do all the changing. The oligarchy doesn't have to change anything. They keep their wealth and vast properties. What needs to happen is land reform."

Years after we both left the university, I learned that Taye had been imprisoned by the Ethiopian government. The government accused and convicted Taye of treason, which was just one of the usual covers that governments use to quash contrary citizens.

I began to write Taye monthly letters. My goals were to:

• Offer a friendly voice to someone in an unfriendly situation;
• Let Taye know that another person on the outside was thinking of him; and
• Put the jailers on notice that Taye had another ally on the outside. 

Penpals for people imprisoned in US detention centers
(including actual prisons with actual convicted felons, which immigrant detainees are not)


There are a number of organizations that sponsor letter-writing to detainees. The group that sponsored my penpal training yesterday is AVID in the Chihuahuan Desert. AVID is an affiliate of Freedom for Immigrants.

A primary goal of correspondence with detainees is to offset the isolation they feel due to the forced separation from their loved ones, their homes, jobs, communities, and from the routine of their lives outside the detention camps.

I can be a penpal regardless where I live, so this will be an ideal action for me to participate in.

In fact, before I left the training, AVID gave me a list of detained folks who'd expressed the desire for correspondents. I selected an individual who speaks English. He is from East Africa.

A small act for the cost of a little time, a stamp, some paper and printer's ink. But an act, nevertheless, and one which might shine a little light on both the sender and the recipient.

Word of the Year 2019: Action: Legal Observers

At immigrant family-separation protest in Troy, Missouri. June 2018.

Yesterday I attended ACLU Texas' training for volunteer legal observers.

The ACLU's role definition of a volunteer legal observer:

Legal observers act as legal witnesses to political demonstrations and document the events of public protests, including any incidents of police misconduct or violations of the rights of protesters. Legal observers are committed to defending free speech in a way that is as objective as possible so that their documentation can be used as evidence if police misconduct or obstructions to constitutionally protected free speech are challenged in court.

Police with crowds awaiting the arrival of the Georgian Orthodox Patriarch. Rustavi, Caucasus Georgia. August 2011.

The presence of ACLU legal observers at a public gathering:

1. Carries the political and legal gravitas of an organization with high name recognition and a history of successful and very public litigious actions.
2. Alerts law enforcement that eyes are on them, encouraging appropriate behavior.
3. Reassures participants that there are witnesses present who are documenting actions.
4. Demonstrates a "best practice" in a system that espouses civil rights - keeping honest people honest.

The presence of ACLU legal observers bolsters the voices of law enforcement officers on the ground who strive to "protect and serve" everyone in a public gathering - but whose voices might be drowned out by peers who abuse their law-enforcement authority.

My friend, Kate, the rabble rouser, having her sign broken apart by law enforcement prior to visit by President Bush, presumably because of the wooden sign bolster. Credit: Columbia Missouri Tribune.

The three main tasks of an observer:

• Monitor
• Record
• Report

Until I went to the ACLU training, I didn't know about the National Lawyers Guild. Since its founding in 1937, the NLG has existed to "put human rights above property rights."

NLG launched its legal observer program in 1968! NLG's legal observer program is one component of its larger Mass Defense Program, which "is a network of lawyers, legal workers and law students providing legal support for political activists, protesters and movements for social change."


Here is a link to the 2003 version of NLG's Legal Observer Manual.

Police presence at protest in Tlaxcala, Mexico. February 2009.

Although I'm leaving the El Paso area shortly, I'll try to hook up with an ACLU legal observers group at my new home ground. To take action.