Introduction: We had several topics to choose from in writing our project. I wanted to write something personal, and something I think is incredibly important. My essay deals mainly with the issue of immigration in America. Specifically, how we are dealing with it. I wanted to answer the question by highlighting America’s need for a change of ideals before they can change their actions.

I have a habit of compulsively reading the news. Whenever I’m on the bus or in the middle of something I’ll scroll through my news feed. Recently I came across an image of an immigration detention facility in the United States. The image showed dozens, maybe hundreds of people packed in by a fence. In a small space, in an unfurnished, beigie room. Towards the fence were children, some toddlers if you looked closely, were laying on the ground, tired, aching. As the sea of people reached the other side of the room I began to notice that there were so many people that I couldn’t see the floor. Looking at the picture, even looking at it as I write this makes me feel claustrophobic, nauseous, and angry. Is this the fate of those striving for a better life? My questions grew. How can America, one of the richest countries on the planet, treat these people so mercilessly? I settled on a final question, what should America’s role be in an immigration crisis? The answer lies in the stories of immigrants.

America, a land of immigrants striving for something greater, has never really been all too kind to immigrants striving for something greater. And with all our wealth, all our capacity to be generous, we stay stagnant in our selfishness, our ignorance. I can imagine you’ve seen the televised political discussions and debates concerning immigration. Old white men, who’ve never had to work a day in their lives, speaking of the lives of people they can’t begin to understand. The point is best conveyed through a quote from the book We Need New Names by NoViolet Bulawayo, a book about immigrating and trying to assimilate into America. “When they debated what to do with illegals, we stopped breathing, stopped laughing, stopped everything, and listened. We heard: exporting America, broken borders, war on the middle class, invasion, deportation, illegals, illegas, illegals. We bite our tongues till we tasted blood, sat tensely on one butt cheek, afraid to sit on both because how can you sit properly when you don’t know about your tomorrow?” This quote does a lot to highlight the treatment of immigrants, but illuminates particularly how little control or voice immigrants have over their lives. This is a point America should take into account if we want to play a better, more helpful role globally and in the lives of immigrants. Does this mean we have to make immigrants dictate exactly how we should be treating them and do things? No. It means America can listen to the specific issues of those being displaced or having to move and working with those people to help them join our country, and live comfortable lives.

The issue of American involvement in immigration goes farther. America would rather kick undocumented immigrants out then keep them in the lives they built, letting them get their citizenship with their homes and families intact. We see this manifest in the ICE raids happening across our country. If we should be taking a more humanitarian approach, then the raids are the antithesis. The New York Times reported in an article (Miriam Jordan, Aug 7, 2019) that, “The raids were by far the largest to occur since Mr. Trump took office, and the biggest since December 2006, when more than 1,200 people were swept up in a raid at several units of a meat processing company.” The same New York Times article interviews Ali Noorani, executive director of the National Immigration Forum, who said the following, “The American economy loses a workforce that is contributing in more ways than we can imagine. And, along the way, we are no safer as immigrant communities are pushed further from law enforcement.” The article goes on to confirm that both companies involved with the raids (the poultry raids predominantly featured in the article) made sure that the workers were able to work in the United States using E-card verification. Not only are the raids brutal, ripping people from their children and their livelihood. But they are hurting our economy. These are not the actions of a developed society.

So once again we are brought to our question: What should America’s role be in a immigration crisis? The answer is not in specific actions this time, but in values. We should approach our immigration problems and any immigration crisis we see with Egalitarian values. These immigrants are people and their lives should be treated with this in mind. As a nation, we should strive to understand the problems these people are facing, to see what we can do to help, to accommodate them into our society. Because in the end, anything we do to help them, will, in some way, be returned back to us. Not by karma or in any spiritual sense for that matter. Just the simple logic that helping people makes people want to help you. Something our country has clearly forgotten.

Bibliography

-We Need New Names, NoViolet Bulawayo -https://www.nytimes.com/2019/08/07/us/ice-raids-mississippi.html https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2019/11/19/opinion/opdocs-immigration.html?action=click&module=Opinion&pgtype=Homepage

https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2019/05/29/opinion/migrant-crisis.html?action=click&module=Opinion&pgtype=Homepage

https://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2016/01/18/what-do-we-owe-each-other/?action=click&pgtype=Homepage&clickSource=story-heading&module=opinion-c-col-right-region&region=opinion-c-col-right-region&WT.nav=opinion-c-col-right-region

Introduction:

My goal for this essay was to connect two important scenes of memory from my life with a common motif. The motif I found was hardship and hardwork. Both my memories have to do with struggling through something and overcoming challenges even though they might be hard or frustrating. I’m extremely proud of how I describe my scenes of memory by using alliteration and descriptive storytelling. Descriptive storytelling is something I enjoy and have put a lot of work into being good at. I think I could have done a little better at building out my reflections by building out to stronger ideas. But, this type of writing is more new to me and I hope to improve as I continue to write more.

I struggle to blink through the thick heavy rain drops that smash into my eyes as I continue the run. It’s qualifiers for the half marathon and I am of a single mind: finish. My legs ache as they give in a little more to gravity each step. I cross the 10 mile mark and I don’t even notice, I’m too busy fighting myself. I’m burning hot and freezing cold at the same time and to equal discomfort. My hands that have been hastily wrapped in my soggy jacket are beginning to go numb. My lungs feel frozen as I inhale my next breath of cold, wet air. The rain above me is heavy and freezing, each drop a sharp thin needle that rips through my body, fracturing me at my core. But I keep moving, fueled by my reluctant determination and stubborn pride I trudge the rest of the way. Whirling around my head is the only clear thought I can think of, “Suck it up Buttercup, who told you life was fair?” The phrase, handed down to me from my parents, has been what’s kept me going in the past, and the only thing keeping me going now. It’s by this phrase I’ve discovered motifs in the world around me. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction, and for anything to be achieved, their must be an equal amount of work done to achieve it. I’m reminded of this daily, even though I usually don’t want to be. Ultimate Frisbee practice reinforces this notion daily. Every day starts about the same, 6:00 am and the alarm goes off. I’m torn from my dreams, back into my dark room under heavy quiet sheets. I wake up and look in the mirror to repeat the magic words, “Suck it up buttercup, who told you life was fair?”. Time for practice. Get up, get clothes, get in the car, get to the field. The adrenaline I’ve built up begins to wane as I spill out of the car a tired mess for my first day of ultimate practice. Cold air claws my skin and I’m jolted back awake as I trudge onto the field. My cleats are fresh with newly formed mud as I’m reminded of last night’s thunderstorm with every “Squelch” and “Schlop” my shoes make as they wade through the wet dirt. Freshly cut grass stings my nose, my eyes feel like sandbags sewn to my face, they sting as they try to force themselves back shut, with the little willpower I have I force them back open. I put on my cleats and I stand, zombified, waiting for instructions. “Go for a run” I drag my body into motion as do the other kids on the field. I run around the field and the faster I run, the harder it is for drowsiness to keep up with me. Practice starts and I’m running as fast as I can, my torso trying to keep up with my legs. I’m trying to breath but I’m using more oxygen then I can take in, I’m indebted to my lungs. I hurt in the worst of ways, I want to stop and be able to breathe again more than anything. But the words ring out in my head once more, “Suck it up Buttercup, who told you life was fair?” I keep going.
Hardship and hard work mean so much more than people realize. People often lose sight of putting in work, trading the eventual payoff for the immediate relief in phoning it in. Putting in effort seems to almost be mocked in current culture today. With popular posts on social media advocating for giving up or procrastinating, it’s hard not to be sucked in, to feel validated as you give up. I think people, especially people my age are still learning that the world is dictated by hard work. And the longer it takes for people to recognize it the more work they’ll have to do. Even though we don’t want to, we have to push away the notion that it’s ok to give up or half do something. That’s what the saying means to me, it’s more than a phrase, it’s a representation of what life is and what hard work means. Life is unforgiving, chaotic, and does not have your best interest at heart. That means it’s everyone’s job to engrain what they want into their lives. Even if it starts with a silly saying.