Que Dramatico!

“Why do you have to be so dramatic!”  I thought as I rolled my eyes.   The speaker was telling stories of immigration officers pounding down doors and ripping mothers away from their children, of fathers leaving for work and being deported, never to say good bye.  It all seemed so extreme.  Maybe there were a few cases like that but, come on!  This is the United States of America.  We have order and compassion.  Let’s not be dramatic in our case studies.  Maybe you have thought the same things.  This is what I thought until it started happening in my neighborhood.

Lately our ministry gets more calls asking for help to find relatives that have been detained or deported.  Last week a mother called crying.  She was hiding in her closet with her four children, afraid to open the door to the immigration officers outside.  “We have never had any problems with the law before,” she cried, as my mind raced to know how to advise her.  “I don’t know why they have come.”  Clearly the immigration agents have a reason and right to ask her for her documents.  She has been in the US for seventeen years.  Her four children were born here.  Her husband was at work.  She stayed in the closet until they left.  What would you do?

What will we do?  Maybe you are rolling your eyes, thinking, “how dramatic!” but the fact of the matter is that the same scene could have played out this morning for your children’s schoolmates or one of your acquaintances.  Chances are that at some point throughout your day, you encountered a neighbor who does not have legal documents to be in this country.  There are around 12 million people in that situation in our country and knocking on their doors while they hide in the closet is not an effective nor American way to deal with the situation we find ourselves in.

There are many reasons that people do not have legal documents.  The system for obtaining documents is completely broken and we must come up with a way for people to literally come out of their closets and participate in legal ways in our society.  It is not safe for us to have neighbors driving around with no licenses or insurance.  It is not fair to workers for undocumented laborers to be working without paying taxes.  And it does not represent our best values to have neighbors who do work hard and contribute to our community be terrified to walk out the front door every morning.  This is the land of the free.

So what will we do to solve the situation?  Yesterday Representative Gutierrez introduced the Comprehensive Immigration Reform for American’s Safety and Prosperity Act (CIR ASAP).  It is a step toward looking at workable solutions that support our values of freedom and hard work.  Not everyone supports it.  Some say it is too dramatic.  As of right now there are no Republicans co sponsoring the bill.  But it is a conversation starter.  It is a solution oriented bill to move us forward as a nation.  Anne Lamott says to write “sh**** first drafts”.  Write something; get started.  This bill is a start- a first draft that we can examine and pour over and edit until we design a piece of legislation that will give some clear steps for undocumented immigrants to take so that they can earn a rightful place in our neighborhoods, workplaces and country.

The next time a neighbor calls I want to be able to say, “This is what you need to do- step 1, step 2, step 3…”.  No more hiding for any of us.  Let’s solve this thing together.

Crissy Brooks, Mika CDC, Costa Mesa

www.mikacdc.org

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Why Rejoice About Tearing Families Apart?

I heard about the police sting on the day laborers almost instantaneously. One of my neighbor’s boyfriends was in the group that was picked up on 17th Street. I thought it was too bad but there wasn’t much I could do. He was, in fact, here undocumented.

Then more and more women began calling me saying their husbands had been taken, too. By Monday, I had six out of the 11 families whose husbands were arrested asking me for help. The rent is due this week and there was the immediate pressure of where to come up with the money now that their spouses weren’t here or in a position to provide for them.

Our organization, Mika Community Development Corp., doesn’t deal much with relief work. The whole premise of our ministry is to equip leaders to take responsibility for their community. I buy into the idea that if you point out opportunities and open up space for people to work and lead, then they will step into that role and be successful. I believe it is more beneficial for the whole community and affirms the dignity of the individual to offer work instead of hand outs.

As I sat in my office surrounded by these suddenly single moms listing what they needed to get through the week, I was perplexed by the fact that 72 hours earlier these women and their husbands were self reliant. They were formulating a plan to pay the rent.

Now, in order to show men that they have to be responsible for their actions, we have deported them, and the burden of care for their families is on the community. Churches, individuals and companies have pitched in to make up the short fall in rent for this week. As generous as this is, it’s just a short-term solution. Now the hard work starts of mapping out a long-term plan for these women and their children.

Of course I could do nothing. I could “let the market take care of itself.” And I’m starting to think this might be the best solution. I hear this admonishment often in the news and in our own city policy discussions –- this idea that if you open up economic opportunity it will either succeed or fail based on the demand for the product.

The more I reflect on the immigration situation the more I hear this phrase in my head. I keep trying to figure out how we got into this situation in the first place. At the risk of making a very complicated situation too simplistic, I think it goes back to us as a nation, trusting the market’s ability to take care of itself more than our laws.

The economic opportunity was so great in the last few decades that our systems couldn’t keep up. There weren’t enough visas for the amount of foreign workers we needed to keep up with the economy so we found ways outside the law to keep it going.

Then we changed our minds. We decided that enough is enough and now we want to enforce these laws. So we’re cracking down. The market has failed us. We are afraid there’s not enough for everyone and so we’re back to trusting in the law. In the mean time there are millions of people caught between our invitation into opportunity and our crackdown with the law.

So I cannot do nothing. These millions of people have become our neighbors and coworkers and friends and those who serve us in many capacities. I can’t do nothing because my faith as a Christian requires justice and mercy. Some say it was justice for the 11 day laborers to be deported. Now it is mercy that must follow through on the ramifications of those men being removed from our community and their families.

Several of my fellow Costa Mesans commented on the Daily Pilot story about the police bust using language of celebration and rejoicing. While I disagree with the reasoning, I can understand the support of the police actions.

What I cannot understand is those who rejoice in the fact that our neighbors’ families have been torn apart. Children are literally crying for their fathers, and mothers are scrambling to get by. You can say they brought it on themselves but why would you celebrate that kind of pain?

I have cried a lot this week. I cried with the women who don’t know how they will provide for their families. I cried with the men as I sat in a hotel room in Tijuana explaining that the church in Costa Mesa is standing with them and their families. But mostly I’ve cried alone in my car wondering how we became a city that tears families apart on purpose and then rejoices about it.

Crissy Brooks

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How Far Does Compassion Go?

The other day my friend asked, “Can I have a hug?” The vulnerability of the request took me off guard. Some days you need to be squeezed. I thought of this as I got ready to visit another friend in jail. I wondered what it is like to go for years without a hug. My friend is facing 25 years to life. 25 years without feeling rain, without smelling flowers. 25 years without a friend wrapping their arms around you and holding you tight. I can’t imagine. It seems so harsh.

Then I snapped out of my compassion and remembered that he is a criminal. He did something to be in jail. He shot at someone. Perhaps my compassion is misdirected. Would I be as compassionate if my friend had been shot at?

Perhaps my compassion springs out of witnessing the arbitrary, seemingly unjust system my friend is entangled in. There are some people who murdered and got seven years. Then there is my friend, who shot a gun but hit no one. No one was hurt and he is looking at 25 years to life. It doesn’t look like justice to me.

As I struggle with this tension of how far my compassion should go for criminals, I reflect on the scriptures. In Matthew 25:36 Jesus said, “I was in prison and you came to visit Me.” This passage teaches that in visiting prisoners we are serving Christ. It even uses visiting prisoners as one standard by which Christ will judge who his followers are.  Nothing is mentioned as to if the prisoners are guilty or which Christ will judge who his followers are. Nothing is mentioned as to if the prisoners are guilty or not.

I am struck too by one of Christ’s final acts- to forgive a guilty, convicted criminal on the cross. It was clear that he was guilty and yet Christ had compassion on him. So maybe I’m not that far off. Maybe compassion does not have to make sense. Forgiveness is not logical. The wisdom of God is foolishness to the world.

So how far does compassion go?

Crissy Brooks

For more from Crissy Brooks go to:

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Another Crazy Making Irony

We say it’s a “Win-Win”- those situations where each party involved benefits. As cheesy as the term sounds sometimes, it is nice when things work out well for everyone. I heard of a potential “win-win” a couple of weeks ago when one of my neighbors asked me to look over some paperwork.

My neighbor has been working as a Nurses Assistant at a convalescent home for 21 years. He makes $10.63 an hour and works full time. He has been in the process of getting his permanent residence status. He has paid a few thousand dollars in legal fees and gone through all the steps. He is in the homestretch.

What he needs to seal the deal is a paper signed by a “potential’ employer stating that they will hire him once he has his papers. It seems fairly simple considering that he has been working under the radar at this company for two decades. I imagined that his boss would gladly sign the paper and congratulate my neighbor on becoming legal and thank him for his years of service doing the dirtiest jobs in the hospital.

Here it comes- the crazy making part: The supervisor won’t sign the paper! But it’s a “win-win”- you get a legal employee, he gets to walk proud, free of fear. Yeah, no.

In my naïveté I am always sure there is a way to make things happen. I offered to go with my neighbor to plead with his supervisor. I offered to threaten him with phone calls to the immigration authorities. I coached my neighbor to have his lawyer call on his behalf. We racked our brains.

Now the deadline has come and gone with no signature. My neighbor will have to begin the process again- spending years and resources on one more try.

What is the fear that keeps us from helping? What is the pride that let’s us play with others’ futures? What did the employer have to gain by not signing the paper?

Crissy Brooks

For more information on MIKA Community Development Corporation click here.

Crazy Making Ironies

Sometimes things can get so nutty! A couple of years ago our city council passed an ordinance that placed a Federal ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) agent in our city jail. So now anyone who is picked up by the police is screened by an ICE agent. You don’t have to be convicted or guilty of anything, just brought in for whatever reason and you are screened for documentation.

A couple months back a friend of mine refused to sleep with her abusive ex-husband when he brought the rent over. He got angry. She got scared and threw a plate at him. When the police got there he was bleeding and she wasn’t so they took her away as the aggressor. It didn’t seem to matter that he had a history of domestic violence. So my friend spent the night in jail. There were no charges brought against her and the case was dropped.

Except then she was on an immigration hold after having been processed through our city jail. So now she is in the process of being deported, in which case her three American citizen children will be left in the custody of their abusive father or child protective services.

That all seems pretty straight forward and some would even say it is fair. Technically, the law played out (whether or not it is a just law is another question). Here’s where it gets nutty…

While our team is trying to get an immigration lawyer on the case I get a phone call from one of our city council members who was a strong proponent of placing the ICE agent in the jail. She is calling to say that she would like to recognize our organization at the next city council meeting with a Proclamation of our valuable community work.

The thing is that the woman in the process of being deported is the main force behind our “valuable community work.” She rallied the neighbors to open the community center. She is the one who pulls people together to support a neighbor in need. She is the main idea woman behind our community seminars and programs.

So I went to the city council meeting to receive an award for my friend’s work in the community that she is simultaneously being removed from by the same council’s policy.

I don’t know whether to laugh or scream my head off. Isn’t it confusing to celebrate one’s work on one hand and then condemn them on the other? It’s too nutty. It’s too real.

Crissy Brooks

For more information on MIKA Community Development Corporation click here.

Alleys, Scars, and Day Laborers

It is amazing to what lengths we will go to avoid seeing what is hard.  This morning on my way home from my run I thought about going down the alley.  I like to pass through that way every once in awhile to check out what’s going on.  The alley is a bit of a “behind the scenes” look at my neighborhood.  – When I walk down it I can see which crews are active by the graffiti.  I have a chance to notice whose landlord is not keeping things up.  Sometimes I can tell if a family has to live out of their garage.  Walking down the alley is one way I take the temperature of how we’re doing as a community.  This morning though, I didn’t want to run down the alley.  I didn’t want to know what’s going on.  I didn’t want to see graffiti.  I didn’t want to notice furniture discarded in the alley.  I didn’t want to know what was wrong.

This willingness to embrace denial has crept into my heart as of late.  There has been a general discontentedness that I have tried to avoid through various methods.  I’ve been shopping. I’ve cleaned house like a madwoman.  I went for long runs.  In this attempt to make myself feel better, I decided I needed to get rid of my scars.  I bought some scar removal anointment and committed to the suggested three times daily application.  It seemed that the more I applied the anointment, the more scars I noticed that needed to be removed.  I was diligent, even rigorous, with applying to each unwanted mark.

Somewhere around day 3 of my manic application of scar lotion I realized that I was removing scars from my body in an attempt to make my heart feel whole.  I was willing to commit to a system of scar removal, yet not willing to sit quietly with my hurting heart.  I did not want to know what was wrong.

Today as I walked to work I thought about taking a different route.  I did not want to see the day laborers on the corner.  We have worked on several initiatives together in our city that have not been successful.  I feel like I’ve let them down and this morning I did not want to answer their questions about our next move.  Plus now with the economy being so bad there are more guys and fewer jobs.   I feel the burden and urgency when I’m with them.  Today I didn’t want to know what was wrong.

I am convicted by what Albert Edward Day wrote in The Captivating Presence:

“I came to a new understanding why Jesus passed up the religious establishment of his day, the economically secure, the socially prestigious, and sought out the poor, the outcast, the sinner, the broken, the sick, the lonely.  He felt, as we so often do not feel, their sorrow.  He was acquainted, as we too seldom are, with their grief.  On Calvary he died of a broken heart.  But that heart was broken long before Black Friday, by the desolation of the common people. ‘In all their afflictions he was afflicted.’

Most of the time we are not.  We seem to have quite a different conception of life.  We avoid as much as possible the unpleasant.  We shun the suffering of others.  We shrink back from any burdens except those which life itself inescapably thrusts upon us.  We seek arduously the wealth and power that will enable us to secure ourselves against the possibility of being involved with another’s affliction.  Lazarus sometimes makes his way to our door step.  We toss him a coin and go on our way.  We give our charities but we do not give ourselves.  We build our charitable institutions but we do not build ourselves into other’s lives.

May Jesus give me his heart to enter into the lives of others.  May he strip away the anointments and alternate routes that keep me from seeing and feeling what is.

Crissy Brooks

Crissy Brooks is the executive director of MIKA Community Development Corporation. To learn more about MIKA visit their website by clicking here.

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