From March 22-27, 10 students participated in Northeastern Illinois University’s first Alternative Spring Break. The students traveled to El Paso, Texas and across the border into Ciudad Juarez, Mexico. The purpose of the trip was to immerse students in the real lives of people who live on the border. Over the course of their trip they learned about immigration, border control, the global market, sweatshops and the relationship between Mexico and the United States.
The following stories are from two of the students who participated in the Alternative Spring Break trip.
Mexico Immersion
This spring break Northeastern Illinois University (NEIU) gave 11 students, including myself, the opportunity to travel to the border of El Paso, Texas and Juarez, Mexico where violence and strife prevail. The immersion trip allowed me to become a part of the local Mexican culture while becoming personally involved with immigrants, migrant farm laborers, and people who live in America without papers to give them credibility. My eyes were opened and my heart broke while people told stories of struggle, unlawful treatment, and of oppressive governmental forces. I felt like a minority as a white woman for the first time in my life. I now understand the racial construct of my white heritage and know I am privileged because of the color of my skin. I feel obligated to become an instrument of change, an advocate, and someone who uses their privilege for the good others.
To understand the conflict at the border we as Americans must understand our role in creating the fence that separates shared land and ecosystems. From 1846 until 1848 the Mexican-American war raged with one goal in mind: to conquer land. This conflict is usually called the Mexican War by U.S. citizens, while the Mexican residents refer to it as the Invasión Estadounidense de México, which translates as American Invasion of Mexico. Before 1822 what is known as Mexico, along with California, Texas, New Mexico, Colorado and Utah were Spanish colonies. Mexico fought Spain to become a free nation like the United States. In 1844 James Polk was campaigning to be America’s next president with the idea to expand United States territory by conquering Mexico. On June 30, 1845, Polk ordered American troops to march beyond Mexico’s borders, causing many Mexicans to flee out of fear and abandon land that flourished with crops for their survival. We stole more than 500,000 square miles of Mexico’s national territory.
The people of Mexico are now caged by a fence that runs along the desert sand. The fence has been crossed by Mexicans in search of a better life, with a more advanced system of government than the one that controls them today. Crossing the border is not an easy task and can end in death, not freedom. The desert conditions are harsh and lead to dehydration, while crossing into America by swimming takes lives captive by strong undertows and deep waters. In the last two years 12 people have died at the hands of the American Border Patrol. (http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2008/mar/04/usa.mexico) During my trip, I walked along the fence that separates Mexico and myself. I walked along the chain link and gathered mutilated shoes and trashed articles of clothing, wondering what person possessed these materials while escaping to America, “the land of opportunity.” On the other side of the fence the land was the same as the land that I walked on. In Mexico, a boy ran to the fence, clinging to the metal as he stared at us as if we were zoo animals to be poked and prodded. The students who spoke Spanish conversed with the ten-year-old as I observed and processed my feelings of discontent. My feelings were conflicted. I felt like a human in a cage without freedom to roam. I felt angry that I couldn’t hug the small child or experience his world on the other side. The Mexican-American War divided people by race and used the borders to cage humanity with man-made steel.
On one afternoon during the immersion trip, we visited a migrant home, a place where men who worked as chile pepper pickers slept and were fed. Juarez is a city containing 1.5 million people, and half of those people live in poverty. More than 20,000 farm workers are responsible for producing fruits and vegetables, a multimillion dollar industry. Yet, they earn an average of less than $6,000 a year according to a Centro de los Trabajadores Agrcolías Fronterizos hand-out. The men that slept here were bused at two in the morning to different locations and worked from dawn until six in the evening. Each gallon bucket that the workers filled with peppers equaled 49 cents in pay. One migrant worker explained that the most he ever made in a day was $74. The money these men earn is then sent to their families, who reside mainly in Mexico. As I looked around the room at the men sleeping on mats, on a concrete floor, without the company of their families, despair took over within me. These men picked chiles so that people like me could eat. I still don’t understand how America would be tolerant of such treatment to any human being. Whether these men are legal is unsaid, but being legal is not what makes someone human or able to feel.
For years America has segregated people by race. We have exploited and dehumanized other cultures for our corporate gain. We are a country for immigrants, which hates immigrants. We have designed a social class system that keeps the rich rich, and the poor poor. White people have gentrified neighborhoods, pushing minorities out, and allowing corporations to reign through almost-religious consumerism. In Chicago we are segregated by race. There is Little Italy, Pilsen for the Polish, the South Side for blacks, and Chinatown is a place for the Chinese to feel unthreatened. If you are a rich man’s wife, you can push your name-brand stroller down Southport in Lakeview, while buying a $200 shirt that was sewn in garment sweat-shops where they make less than $4 a day.
After this trip, I wanted to change my major, cut my hair off, and join the Peace Corp. I felt as though I had been living my life without concern for other human beings, and I felt guilty for my lack of empathy and my careless spending. After returning home, to the reality of everyday life, I still feel an urge within to scream loudly for the sake of justice. I wish the world were a place without borders, where race was non-existent.
I am engrossing myself within academia and beginning to see that my education is vital for my future if I am going to make an impact within a decaying society that is collapsing under the threat of global warming and economic struggle. I am delving through readings, becoming more culturally aware of others, and exploring a new-found liberation. The stories of the people on the border are still resonating and I am changing my everyday life to better not only myself, but the earth and all living beings. I am moving to an apartment that will cost three hundred dollars less a month, being mindful of recycling and energy use, I am giving back to the earth by composting, and monitoring my spending better. The people on the border showed me that life does not have to be measured by what we have, but by what we do. Franklin D. Roosevelt had it right when he said, “If civilization is to survive, we must cultivate the science of human relationships – the ability of all peoples, of all kinds, to live together, in the same world at peace. “