The Sleeping Giant Behind the DREAM Act Decision

On Saturday December 18, the U.S. Senate failed to pass the DREAM Act, thereby blocking the legislation that would have given undocumented students brought to this country as children the chance to study in US universities and get on a path to citizenship. This is a devastating loss for the entire country. Under the DREAM Act, more youth from our communities would have been able to attend college and advance their education; our workforce would have gained more motivated doctors, lawyers, nurses, teachers, and other professionals; and our economy would have been bolstered by the additional contributions of DREAM students. This most recent setback for the DREAM Act is a loss for all of us in the US, but I would argue that the negative implications of the Senate’s decision are even broader than these immediate impacts. While it’s troubling that the DREAM Act didn’t pass, what’s perhaps more troubling is the rhetoric that was used to ensure it didn’t pass, along with the fact that the American people were willing to stand for that rhetoric.

Senator Kyl of Arizona, in his long list of reasons to oppose the DREAM Act, included the following point: “Chain migration… would result from this legislation because once the citizenship is obtained the individuals would then have the right to legally petition for a green card for their family members. And that means that the numbers here could easily triple from the 2 million plus that are estimated right now.”

What’s the underlying assumption driving this argument against the DREAM Act? It assumes that opening up a pathway to allow more immigrants (primarily immigrants of color from countries of high emigration) is essentially a bad thing, and bad for our country. This logic is misguided at best. Currently, our immigration system is firmly rooted in the values of family reunification; it’s just how the system works. What lends credibility to an argument like Kyl’s is not the facts of our current frameworks for legal immigration, but rather a harsh anti-immigrant, and arguably racist, sentiment. He assumes that more immigration from traditional sending countries (such as countries in Latin America) is threatening and should be avoided.

Regrettably, the reason rhetoric like Kyl’s holds political water is that many people in the American public have similar assumptions. As anti-immigrant narratives become more mainstream (and are reinforced through the media and political campaigns), many Americans come to accept them as truth, and become blinded to their racist undertones. Even some who would purport to be charitable towards the needs of immigrants often buy in to the dominant ideology. It is this domination of anti-immigrant sentiment, the implicit assumptions that make it acceptable to spout off arguments like Kyl’s, that I find most troubling in the aftermath of the DREAM Act decision. Of course, there are detractors, but I would argue that the public conscience, as a whole, seems to accept anti-immigrant, racially-driven arguments, especially when they are cloaked in rhetoric.

But that’s not to say that there can’t be a rapid shift in the public conscience. Most of the anti-immigration arguments out there are based on misconceptions about the visa system and the history of immigration to this country. Americans need to be educated about immigration; to understand its roots and the true benefit immigrants bring to our society and economy. The rising power of a mobilized immigrant community, combined with the support of citizen allies, will be critical in carrying out more widespread public education, and shifting mainstream public opinion towards a richer understanding of the realities of immigration to the US.

With empowerment and education, we can make a difference. Thirty six years ago, Senator Richard Russell stood up on the Senate floor and claimed that he would block the implementation of the Civil Rights Act, stating that, “We will resist to the bitter end any measure or any movement which would have a tendency to bring about social equality and intermingling and amalgamation of the races in our (Southern) states.” Now we look back and clearly see the racist assumptions underlying his statements. Public opinion has shifted considerably. If a Senator were to stand up on the floor today and say those comments, there would be instant public outrage among the American people.

I hope that soon, our public conscience will drive us to respond in a similar manner whenever anti-immigrant sentiment begins to hijack the national political agenda. Whenever racist ideologies are at work, I hope to see people of all colors and from all different backgrounds standing up, demanding that the human rights and civil liberties of everyone residing in the US be respected. In the meantime, I will not sit back and wait. The moral compass of the US will not shift unless we make it.

Dream Act Set-back is a Loss For All

Click here to see my letter in the Boston Globe!

RE “IMMIGRANTS lament Dream Act’s defeat’’ (Boston Globe Metro, Dec. 20): The disappointment about the Senate’s failure to pass the Dream Act reaches far beyond the immigrant community. I’m a US-born citizen, one of a majority of American voters who support the Dream Act. Many citizens are also lamenting the Senate’s decision, not just for what it will mean for our immigrant friends and neighbors, but for the impact it will have on our communities and the future of our nation.

As a medical student and someone who deeply values higher education, I have worked hard for the passage of the Dream Act alongside students, teachers, church leaders, and community members from across Massachusetts. The many citizens involved work in solidarity with immigrant neighbors to ensure a brighter future for our communities, our own families, and ourselves.

Under the Dream Act, more of our nation’s youth could attend college and advance their education; our work force would gain more motivated doctors, lawyers, nurses, teachers, and other professionals; and our economy would be bolstered by the additional contributions of Dream students.

This most recent setback for the Dream Act is a loss for all of us in this nation, and we should all lament its defeat.

Check out the link to the report: "Universal Language Access in DC Healthcare," the culminating document of my work from last year: VIEW REPORT

Confessions

As a white citizen raised in the US, I'm often asked the question: "So why are you so interested in immigrant rights?" Usually I answer with a rambling tirade about social justice and the global order of things - real big picture thoughts. But I've been thinking a lot lately about the deeper reasons for my involvement, and I admit have a confession to make. At the heart of the matter, my reasons for engaging in this work are actually a lot more personal than it might seem at first glance:

I was raised in a family where I was taught to value diversity, fairness, and the contributions of immigrants. 7 of my 8 great-grandparents were immigrants to this country from Europe and the stories about their early struggles and later successes in the US were always a prominent part of the stories I was told as a child. Also, 2 of my siblings were immigrants, adopted from Latin America when they were young. My parents were excited about diversity and would always seek out immigrant neighborhoods and interesting restaurants near our hometown on Long Island, New York and bring us along. And lastly, my parents cared deeply about fairness and justice. While my parents weren’t very vocal about these intentions, I always noticed how they treated others with dignity, how they devoted their lives to serving others, and how I would sometimes be brought along to the occasional protest for a social justice cause.

Growing up in my household, it was only natural to accept immigrants as valuable members of our society, as people that needed to be respected and appreciated for their unique contributions.

Maybe that’s why I was so stunned to learn, in the early 2000s, about the rising anti-immigrant movement in the towns around where I grew up. I learned about immigrant beatings and other hate crimes carried out by people as young as high-schoolers. What would make some of my neighbors have such deep-seated hatred against other neighbors of mine, just because they were immigrants? How could this be happening in my community? It made me sick to my stomach. I felt a sense of responsibility for addressing the issue: to play my part to root out the anti-immigrant sentiment and to work for justice for immigrants in the communities where I lived (although at that time I didn’t really know how I could do it). I also was curious to learn more about these immigrant communities. Who were these immigrants and where are they coming from? Why were so many immigrants in the US undocumented – why didn’t they come via legal channels? While I was taught to value diversity growing up, my hometown was actually pretty homogenous white middle-class. I had had exposure to immigrant groups, but I didn’t have many personal relationships and lacked this deeper understanding.

In college, I started working with immigrant populations in the city where I lived, volunteering at the local high school and in a health clinic, and also made friends with classmates of mine who were immigrants themselves. I learned through their stories about the barriers, struggles, and racism immigrants in this country, particularly immigrants of color, experience. I also learned that, while there are some legal channels that certain immigrant-hopefuls could follow in order to “get in line” and come to the US with papers, most immigrants from traditional immigrant sending countries had virtually no legal channel available to them. This was especially true for unskilled workers, hence the root of many of my city’s immigrants’ “undocumented-ness.” Lastly, I learned that immigrant populations brought beautiful diversity and also economic advantages to our city.

I felt committed to continue to work with immigrant groups, so I went to Mexico for a year to get fluent in Spanish. While there, I worked in a migrant shelter in southern Mexico, where I met migrants on their journey to the US and learned about the dangers and exploitation they face while traveling. These experiences strengthened my resolve to work to combat the injustices faced by immigrants and their families. When I came back from Mexico, I got a lot more political and I started getting more outspoken about the need for policy change to protect immigrant human rights. I felt like I owed it to all the people I met in the shelter who were generous enough to share their stories with me.

So that's where I'm at now. I want to work in solidarity with immigrant groups and also help educate and mobilize people from communities like the one I grew up in to take a stand for the cause. I'm committed. I'll do it until we truly achieve "liberty and justice for all" - both at home and in immigrants' home countries. There's a lot of work to do.