|
My Neighbors, in Handcuffs
Louise Hoffman Broach, Wayuga Editor
Wednesday, May 28 2008
My Neighbors, in Handcuffs
It was a typical Wednesday morning; rushing to get my kids to school, typical until we turned out of our driveway.
“Mom, why are all those cars up there?” one of my daughters asked me, as we approached the home where our migrant farm worker neighbors lived. There was a deluge of nearly 20 vehicles, including state police cars, on the property and along Route 31.
I knew why, immediately, even before I saw the white. Immigration and Customs Enforcement van parked in front.
Many have heard about increased ICE raids in Wayne County, that ICE and the U.S. Border Patrol are trying out new tactics here. But hearing is much different than actually witnessing a raid; seeing my neighbors led away in handcuffs.
I rushed back after hastily dropping off my children, and started acting like a journalist. I tried to override my anger – and fear – regarding what was happening to the quiet and hard-working people who lived across my driveway, regardless of their legal status.
Immediately as I began snapping photos, two ICE officers came running at me and looked ready to grab my camera until I identified myself as a member of the media; I had clipped my sheriff’s ID to my jacket. I hoped they didn’t see I was shaking.
Their physical aggressiveness vanished when they realized I really was a reporter, but they glared at the camera and I feared they would take it. They told me in no uncertain terms I was to stay across the road. I didn’t argue. I also called my husband, who was still home, and told him to come get my Nikon in case the ICE officers changed their mind. He did, and left me with a point and shoot digital. That’s the reason some of my photographs – until Martens Farms gave me permission to go on the property after ICE took away 16 of my neighbors and trashed their rooms – aren’t very good.
I was told these ICE officers yelled at these people saying they were “mojados,” a derogatory term, meaning wetback.
I want to tell you about my neighbors, these so-called “mojados,” who worked for Martens in Port Byron, processing potatoes. In the more than a dozen years the “migrant house,” for want of a better term, has been down the road from us, there has been not a single problem. The lawn stays mowed, there is no garbage strewn. The home, even with as many as 22 people living there, is always quiet.
On Sundays in the warm weather, it’s not unusual to see the men outside playing soccer. Sometimes, we stop to watch; other times, we beep and wave as we drive by. We exchange smiles and say “Hola, como esta?” when we encounter each other the local store – less frequently lately because of their attempt to keep a low profile. I know a few first names, and that’s all. I am not sure they know mine. They’ve seen the Farm Bureau stickers all over my vehicle. One asked once if we farmed our own land.
On Wednesday, I witnessed these people, not faceless strangers to me, being humiliated, taken away in handcuffs with their belongings hauled away in trash bags. The bus they were loaded into had covered windows.
Some may argue they got what they deserved if they were in this country illegally.
I would counter that my neighbors are criminals only because the U.S. government’s failure to enact a realistic guest worker program for agriculture made them such. These people are here for one reason, to work, and to work hard in jobs that few Americans are willing to do. The majority of them do not cause trouble. They do not want U.S. citizenship. They work their behinds off to feed us and to support their families in Mexico.
So why can’t they have legal status?
One woman in the house had a work permit; the other 16, including her husband, did not. The reason: the U.S.’s quota system for foreign workers ignores this county’s increasing dependency of labor from places like Mexico and Guatemala for our fruit and vegetable farms and our dairies. To come legally is long and drawn out ordeal and the number of slots in no way matches the reality of the need.
The Mexicans I’ve known have an incredible work ethic. They seize the opportunity – in spite of the danger of being illegal; they are here anyway.
I’ve said it before: it is a myth these farm workers are taking jobs away from Americans. Admittedly, our economy is so terrible right now that might be changing, but I doubt it, and so do my farmer friends.
So instead of fixing the system, we decimate the labor pool we do have and turn hardworking people like my neighbors into common criminals.
| No previous subhead |
| |
No next subhead |
No comments have been posted.
|
