On Monday night,
I stood outside the Suffolk County House of Corrections in Boston, MA, alongside
nearly 100 community members and across from the 1,900 immigration
detainees that are held at the facility.
It was a
powerful moment. As we raised our voices outside in chants and poetry and song,
the men inside banged on the windows and held up signs in solidarity. Some
detainees communicated directly to their wives, children, and friends, who were
standing with us in the crowd, by holding up signs that said, "I love
you" and forming their hands in the shape of a heart. Other men used hand
motions and scribbled notepaper bearing black penned letters to tell us their
"alien" identification number in a plea for connection and assistance.
Community members and detainees share messages.
This
communication, across approximately 500 feet over a hedge and a highway
service road, was a striking change to the isolation immigration detainees
experience from the moment they are picked up by Immigration and Customs
Enforcement (ICE).
Each year,
400,000 people are detained by ICE, the grand majority (73%) for nonviolent,
often minor, crimes such as driving without a license or for immigration
violations such as missing a court date. While detained, these individuals have
limited communication with their loved ones - they have to pay out of pocket to
make phone calls home and no visits are allowed from friends and family who are
also undocumented.
Meanwhile, the
detainees' partners, parents, and children are suffering the pain of separation
on the outside. In addition to the emotional impact, many families suffer the
loss of their main breadwinner, and the economic impact can be devastating. For
many families, the separation and pain continue far beyond the period of
detention, as the majority of detainees are eventually deported.
The family of Josué Martinez, detained at Suffolk Detention Facility, participated in the protest.
As I learn more
about the reality of detention and the suffering it is causing in my community,
I become more and more enraged about the detention-deportation system that
my tax dollars are helping to fund. At a price of nearly $2 billion per year, my neighbors and friends are being locked up, meanwhile the prisons that hold detainees and the
companies that build detention facilities are making more money with each bed they fill.
While ICE
purports to be promoting alternatives to detention programs that allow
detainees who are a "low flight risk" to live in their communities
while their case is processed, the programs do not go
far enough - in Massachusetts we know that elderly and sick individuals are still being held in detention for
months and years, and sometimes even being kept in solitary confinement.
Also shocking is the extent to which the detention-deportation system disproportionately impacts people of color, who are more often targeted by law enforcement in their communities, and then funneled into detention through partnership programs with ICE such as Secure Communities.
Also shocking is the extent to which the detention-deportation system disproportionately impacts people of color, who are more often targeted by law enforcement in their communities, and then funneled into detention through partnership programs with ICE such as Secure Communities.
Sharing songs of solidarity at the open mic protest.
There needs to be an end to this perverse deportation-detention system that is bringing suffering to workers, people of color, families, and children, without making our communities any safer or stronger. The immigration reform bills being proposed now will not change the profit incentive for detention and do not focus on improving conditions for detainees. In fact, the bills include proposals for more harsh enforcement methods, such as $30 billion more for border enforcement and mandatory e-verify programs at workplaces.
More enforcement simply perpetuates suffering. What we need is an inclusive immigration policy that recognizes the U.S.'s role in stimulating the roots of immigration through economic and military intervention, honors the contributions of 11 million undocumented immigrants by providing a reasonable path to citizenship, and increases avenues for safe, legal entry for poor workers abroad.
More enforcement simply perpetuates suffering. What we need is an inclusive immigration policy that recognizes the U.S.'s role in stimulating the roots of immigration through economic and military intervention, honors the contributions of 11 million undocumented immigrants by providing a reasonable path to citizenship, and increases avenues for safe, legal entry for poor workers abroad.
I remain hopeful
that a just future is possible for our communities, if we continue to build
power and demand the change we really want from the grassroots level. As we
sang our final songs outside the detention facility and waved our goodbyes to
the detainees, we could see storm clouds gathering in the distance. We smiled
and linked arms, ready to fight for the rainbow after the storm.
To learn more about the Not One More Deportation week of action and national fast visit:
http://www.notonemoredeportation.com/
https://www.facebook.com/NotOneMoreDeportationMassachusetts
Me and my friend Keylin at the protest - just like the butterflies
we know that migration is natural and beautiful.
To learn more about the Not One More Deportation week of action and national fast visit:
http://www.notonemoredeportation.com/
https://www.facebook.com/NotOneMoreDeportationMassachusetts





Juliana - Remaining hopeful is hard. But I am hopeful that immigration reform can happen this year and that, with its inevitable mix of both good and bad elements, it will be an overall step in the right direction. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and feelings.
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