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Once upon a time,
in a world that's never been,
I awoke to find myself
in the middle of a dream.

The stars, they glittered dully
on this midday summer's eve,
the flowers tickled grass blades
who cried-laughed happily.

And the clock chimed one
as the summer sun
fooled by the winter's day
glumly pranced and sadly danced
'till the gravestones ran away.

Then a tiny child of sixty-five
walk-galloped up to me.
Bareheaded, she wore a pretty pink hat
and stood grinning seriously.

"Don't you see?" She shouted at a whisper.
So I looked to hear the mute man's speech
and the call of the rainbow-black bird
And although the pink river flowed loudly upstream
Do you know, I smelled every word.

The elderly child poked my back
with a touch like silk and cut glass.
"You know," she said
"you've crossed the bridge
you must enter before you've passed."

I looked ahead-behind me:
a bridge of golden-silver wood
stood innocently-guilty crossed
as bridges always should.

I crossed the bridge and entered-left
the world that's never been
and yet never have I woken
from that strangely normal dream.

The Line Has Not Held

I’m not entirely sure how I want to begin this entry. I feel like there’s so many things that I need to address here, and I don’t know where to begin. This leaves me feeling slightly hesitant and anxious about the whole concept behind this post, and I know enough to know that that probably isn’t a good thing. I’m having trouble expressing myself in a way that isn’t completely self-centered, because what I have to say is beyond myself, and is more important than I am. It’s far more important than anyone person, really, and I’m at a point where I’m struggling to reconcile my personal emotions with what actually needs to be said.

I’ve come to realize that my own emotions won’t change anything. All of my anger at this situation, and all of my grief cannot fix this. If anything, that knowledge only seems to make me even more frustrated. I’m going to try as hard as possibly can to not be preachy about this, but I feel very strongly about this issue, so I can’t make any guarantees. I apologize ahead of time if what I say offends anyone, because I’m about to discuss a very controversial topic, and I understand that many people are going to disagree with what I’m about to say. I understand that, but I’m saying this anyway, because it needs to be said, and I feel that I need to say it.

Illegal immigration is a hugely controversial issue, with both sides having very strong arguments. I’m going to skirt around the “legal” question as much as I can for now, although I may feel up to addressing that issue later on in the year. The fact is, many people are coming into the United States via Mexico, regardless of whether one believes they should be able to legally or not. Ignoring the legality of this issue, there is a larger problem at stake: people are dying in their attempts to cross the desert. Why? Well, back in 1994, the Border Patrol decided that it would increase its efforts to crack down on illegal immigration. Knowing that the vast majority of migrants crossed in the urban areas on the border (because that’s where it’s easiest and safest to cross), the Border Patrol began to close up the border in those areas. This operation had different names in different cities: in San Diego, it was Operation Gatekeeper, here in Tucson it was Operation Safe Guard, and in El Paso, it was Operation Hold the Line. Operation Hold the Line is what all three are most commonly referred to. The Operation was a success, in that the number of apprehensions in urban areas has plummeted in the 14 years since. However, Operation Hold the Line has not reduced the number of people crossing into the United States. Instead, it has made a “funnel effect”; it has funneled people into crossing at the only available point now: the desert between Arizona and Sonora. Operation Hold the Line did not decrease the number of migrants, because it did not address the root causes of why migrants are crossing, and as a result, the line has not held. Increased militarization of the border is not the solution.

What the solution is depends on your point of view, I suppose. I certainly don’t have any real answers, other than dealing with the immediate humanitarian crisis here in the desert. According to Coalición de Derechos Humanos, since October 1, 2007, 148 bodies of migrants have been recovered in the desert. (Nobody knows how many bodies have not been recovered, but given the extreme conditions of the desert, it’s likely that the actual body count from this year is much, much higher.) This is why I’m so angry and depressed and guilty and frustrated. People are suffering and dying and there’s absolutely nothing that I can do about it, except to tell more people about this horrible situation. I suppose one of the reasons that I’m writing this is that I hope that maybe one of the two regular readers of this blog (well, besides me), will be able to help me in what I feel just might be the most important thing I’ve ever done. (Ok, that was extremely preachy, and I appologize for it.)

La Frontera

So it seems that moving half-way across the country can cause a person to become slightly neglectful of previous responsibilities. I'm really sorry. In my defense, I have been pretty busy these past few weeks. I've also been thinking about what exactly I want to write about, because I can think of several experiences that would all make excellent posts. However, seeing as how decision-making is not my greatest skill, I think what I'll do instead is take bits and pieces from all of that and put it into one post. If my thoughts seem disjointed, it's because they are.

I suppose one of the first things that I noticed about Tucson, was, obviously the climate. For a girl from Michigan, moving to the desert is quite difficult. It’s very hot here, and I find myself missing the humidity. Now, tanner than ever, and slightly sunburned, I feel that I’m starting to become adjusted to the intense (for me) heat. The desert is surreal and sublime. I can look out my window and see cacti. It’s very odd…I wouldn’t have thought that it could be so beautiful here. I always thought that a desert was lifeless, but that was before I saw the flowers and the fruit of the cacti. Before I got here, I hadn’t ever seen the sun set over the mountains, or for that matter, even seen mountains up close. Tucson is so different from everything I know and love, and at times I feel as if I were living on a different planet. A different, but very beautiful planet where everything is strange and weird and wonderful. Of course, I have more than just the physical environment to adjust to. There is the social environment as well. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that the large size of the University of Arizona’s campus didn’t terrify me when I first saw it. As a student of a tiny college, I’m not used to be surrounded by so many people. Standing alone in a crowd of thousands of people, staring at a map, desperately trying to figure out how to get to the library, I have never missed my home campus so much. I took for granted the tiny campus of Albion, where a five minute walk could take me from one end of campus to the opposite. So I’ve been adjusting. I’ve been puzzling over a bus map, trying to figure out how to get around.

But I haven’t only been in Tucson; I’ve been on the border, learning about the policies that have made it into what it is today. It’s very hard for me not to go into a very long, very angry political rant right now. I probably will go into one at some point, but I’d like to avoid it for the time being, at least until I feel like I know enough that I can actually be eloquent instead of just angry. For now, however, I will just say that seeing that long green wall for the first time was one of the hardest and most emotional experiences of my life. It was one of the many times that I’ve realized that my perception of reality, and actual reality were different. And just like all of those other times, I’ve learned from the discomfort and I’ve grown from it. I promise that I will write much, much more about the Border, and about immigration policy, and about the all of the people that I’ve already met who are suffering because of it. But before I can do that, I need some time to process what I’ve seen and experienced. But look for that sometime soon.