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by Gloria Esteva--Voces de Inmigrantes en Resistencia Scroll down for English |
Cuando pienso de “Santuario,” inmigración “legal,” o “ilegal”, Jose Rizon viene a mi mente. El era uno de los hombres y mujeres Filipin@s con quien yo trabajaba en la Industria del Goodwill por un tiempo, como clientes y trabajadores.
Muchas veces lo llamaba “Andre” porque mi memoria me recordaba a el jugador de fútbol americano, NFL Andre Rizon. Hablábamos mucho de todo durante el trabajo.
Inmigración era un tema que yo aprendí muy pronto que iba hacer su sangre hervir. Le temo mucho tiempo en ser ciudadano Americano jugando bajo las “reglas.” No pudo ir donde Prensa POBRE no tiene miedo de ir, declarando que nadie es “ilegal” o de desconfianza solo porque han cruzado una línea imaginaria, por búsqueda de un trabajo que paga mas que los de sus países de origen.
Yo escuchaba mucho a los locutores de la Radio KGO-AM810 durante el trabajo, pero no me fije hasta después de me estaba envenenando mi mente. Trataba, pero no tenia las palabras para poder decirle a José lo que yo quería.
Es un poco extraño, pensando en el y los otros Filipinos del Goodwill, muchos con el resplandor que asocio con las escritoras de prensa POBRE, como Ingrid de León—el resplandor de mantener sus valores, recordando quienes son y de donde vienen, asegurando el valor de todos, y tener la compasión a los que no tienen.
Ha habido muchas historias de “pesadillas económicas” en la TV sobre un hombre de clase media en un estado, su esposa y sus hijos en su casa. Imagínate dejando los a 10 mil millas en vez de mil. Mi compañero de trabajo ahorró mucho dinero y tiempo de vacación para tomar ese viaje muy largo; sus parientes viven aquí y por eso no se queda allá.
Inglés sigue
When I think of “Sanctuary”, “legal” and “illegal” immigration, Jose Rizon comes to mind. He is one of the Filipino men and women I worked with at Goodwill Industries for a while, as client and employee.
I often tried to call him “Andre” because NFL football player Andre Rizon kept bubbling up out of some weird depth of memory. We talked a lot on the job—about everything.
Immigration is the one thing guaranteed to make Jose go nuclear. It took him a long time to become an American citizen playing by “the rules”. He couldn’t go where POOR Magazine doesn’t fear to tread, declaring nobody illegal or unworthy because they crossed an imaginary line looking for work paying more money than they got at home.
I listened to many KGO-AM810 talk show hosts on the job, but didn’t realize until later some of them were poisoning my mind. I tried, but didn’t have the words to say what needed to be said to Jose.
It is somewhat strange, thinking about him and the other Filipinos at Goodwill, many with the glow I associate with POOR writers like Ingrid DeLeon—that glow of unshakeable peoples’ values (or at least knowing exactly who they are and never forgetting where they came from), asserting everyone’s essential worthiness, dropping the other shoe of a little bit of mercy when somebody is homeless or doesn’t have the money for a bus ride. Stuff like that.
Stuff like that, and then you say the I-word and Jose morphs into a werewolf, bitten by the mainstream media.
I’ve been wondering about stuff like the European Union. It isn’t perfect, but it works well enough. I don’t have a crystal clear vision of what a North American Union would look like, but we need to “go there”, think and talk about open borders, unified currencies and who should do what in such a game-changing regime.
Canada would manage a government arts program—and, um, HEALTH CARE—better than we do. What Mexicans would bring to the table? Energy. Spirit. Buckets full of it, to paraphrase a line a British actor spoke in a “Masterpiece Theatre” thing I saw years ago.
After September 11th, 2001, we slammed the door and made it harder for people to just get here to even try to play by whatever rulebook we’ve slapped together. Another guy I worked with has a wife and children back home in the Philippines. They’ve been waiting for years for a chance to join him here.
There have been “economic nightmare” stories on television news about middle class guys in one state, the wife and kids back home. Try leaving them 10,000 miles away instead of a mere thousand. My ex-co-worker saved money and vacation time every year to take that long long long trip; his parents live here, which answers the question about why he doesn’t just not come back.
We can do better.