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.
Border Awareness
I woke up from pitch black darkness, and my eyes shockingly wandered around the scenario. I saw myself sitting inside the car, without my glasses, behind the driver, the left side of my body numb, and the back left side of the car punctured in with the window shattered. There was a taxi cab facing right into the left side of my injured face. I realized my sister, my two friends and I had been hit by a taxi cab. The four of us had lost consciousness, but we were awakened by the loud sound of the ambulance and police sirens. I never realized how short life was until that horrible night of the car accident. Luckily, no one was seriously injured, but my fate was now held by a string. I realized that I had to live my life to the fullest.
The date was Saturday, March 21, 2009 at 1:15 a.m. This was one day before the Border Awareness Trip. On the contrary, I felt blessed on my way to the Midway International Airport. I met up with 10 other complete strangers by our terminal. First, we all ate a variety of breakfast meals, then we walked inside the airplane, and finally flew off towards the Texas/Mexico border.
In the airplane, I met a 17-year-old girl named Aedea. She was coming back to her hometown of El Paso, Texas, and was a little opinionated about the border crimes and drug trafficking. She claimed that it made her upset that the media viewed the border towns as dangerous. We talked throughout the whole airplane trip. She seemed as normal as any other high school senior student. Aedea’s mom was a native of El Paso, and her dad was born in Juarez. She was middle class and did not understand poverty as well as I did.
Finally, we arrived at the El Paso International Airport after almost four hours of turbulence. The trip was structured to have up to five activities every day for the next five days. We started with orientation to introduce our future activities. The activities were organized to immerse us into a new emotional and psychological transition of what life was like for an isolated immigrant. Some of the many locations we visited were the Women’s Intercultural Center, Center Sin Fronteras, Annunciation House, La Guadalupana Clinic, Mayapan Center, the Border Patrol Museum and the Juarez border bridge. Hundreds of stories of miseries were told to us so graphically. An immigrant comes to a new country, has a language barrier, and is considered a fugitive for wanting a better life.
We also stayed at houses built of rocks and dirt. We experienced the life of no electricity, no running water, and no food. Poverty in Chicago is nothing compared to the tragic lives of thousands of people living in colonies along Anthony, New Mexico, El Paso, Texas, and Juarez, Mexico.
We came back to Chicago angrier than ever. We had so many questions throughout the trip! Why was the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) really created? Why was the Mexican government letting more than 100,000 women get killed by men in Juarez on a yearly basis? Why were the men in Juarez doing the killings? Why are men killing the women? What are border patrollers really after when “protecting” the Mexico/U.S. border? Who is buying the drugs that are being transported to the U.S.? Were border patrollers going against terrorists or immigrants? Why not build a wall or fence at the U.S./Canada border as well? Why are farm workers getting paid as low as $10 a day for intensive agricultural work? Why are immigrants NOT allowed to have a Social Security number to fairly chase after the so-called American dream? Why has the DREAM Act not been approved yet?
Furthermore, my life has been surrounded by gangs, poverty and violence in Humboldt Park. However, I have everything to be proud of and nothing to complain about. I have some of the most valuable resources that all of these neglected immigrants will unfortunately never afford to have: an education, a Social Security number and a life of options. Until we act upon their aid, they will forever drown in misery of the industrial world of the powerful and wealthy. Aedea and I have a glorious existence compared to everyone living oppressed in misery and abandonment throughout these third world countries. My body survived the car accident, but my heart has sunk in a water pool of sadness. When will the immense injustice be stopped?