Wednesday, June 26, 2013

No Borders, No Bars: Reflections from the Not One More Deportation Open Mic Protest


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.


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.

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.


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

1 comment:

  1. 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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