A short time ago, three buses filled with undocumented immigrants — most of them mothers with young children — were forced to turn around in Murrieta, California.
The families were reportedly fleeing violence, murder and extortion from gangs in Guatemala, El Salvador and Honduras. After they reached Murrieta, they were fleeing angry Americans.
We can hope the children on those Homeland Security buses had no idea why those adults were screaming at them.
We can hope the children never felt the hate that prevented them from stepping off the bus. We can hope they didn’t see the terror in their mothers’ eyes or hear the pounding of their hearts.
We can hope all we want, but every parent knows that this is just magical thinking.
Children are intrepid observers. They hover in doorways and hallways, soaking up unintended lessons from grown-ups’ uncensored moments. They learn early to take notice.
When children are surrounded by people waving large American flags and yelling at them with scrunched-up faces, they know. When they see people who don’t look like them thrusting signs in the air, they know.
GO HOME!
AGENTS: SECURE OUR BORDERS — NOT CHANGE DIAPERS!
BUS ILLEGAL CHILDREN TO WHITE HOUSE
Children don’t need to speak English to know when they’re not wanted.
“They may not be able to read signs, but they understand anger and hate and violence,” immigration activist Cyndi Whitmore said in a phone interview Wednesday. “Unfortunately, they’ve already been exposed to all of that. That’s why they’re here.”
Whitmore is one of the core organizers of the Phoenix Restoration Project in Arizona. Like Murrieta, Phoenix has seen a sudden influx of immigrant families with young children. Unlike Murrieta, the families were welcomed at the Greyhound station and almost immediately offered food and water.
“I think it helped that here in Phoenix, we had no warning,” Whitmore said. “By the time people realized it had happened, we had already mobilized. Doctors and lawyers, health care providers and teachers, whites, blacks, Hispanics — the heart of Phoenix showed up to help.”
About 1,000 immigrants arrived in Phoenix over 10 days, all of them families with young children. The first batch showed up at the Greyhound station on the evening of May 27.
“I was at home watching TV with my kids when I got the call,” Whitmore said. “Here’s how it goes: Bus pulls up; doors open; families get off; doors close; and the bus pulls away.
“To be on that bus, they had to have an address for a family member or other loved ones, but they had no phones, no diapers, no formula. Some of the children were ill. We got moving, fast.”
As Whitmore pointed out, virtually all of the families were headed for somewhere else.
“Most of them end up in the Midwest or the East Coast,” she said. “Just like in Murrieta, we’re a temporary stop.” Only one man of the latest influx of immigrants remains in Phoenix, she said.
U.S. Customs and Border Protection estimates that more than 52,000 unaccompanied children have been caught illegally crossing the southwestern U.S.-Mexico border since October. Earlier last month, President Barack Obama declared this surge of children “an urgent humanitarian crisis” and directed federal agencies to coordinate an emergency response.
Murrieta Mayor Alan Long balked, even though the immigrants were not to be released into the city. He confirmed that the buses would be full of women and children but egged on protesters by urging residents to complain to elected officials.
Estimates vary on how many showed up, but there were enough to outnumber supporters and to force the buses to turn around. Federal officials rerouted the families to San Diego, where a number of the children were hospitalized for untreated illnesses.
I’ve watched about a dozen videos of the protests, and an image in the one by KTLA-TV sticks with me. In it, a burly man is pointing as he shouts, “Go back to school if you’re that ignorant.”
I have no idea which side he’s on, but that doesn’t matter to me, because he is holding a young girl in his arms. She is wearing a pink dress, her face somber as she takes in the screaming around her.
We can tell ourselves that little girl doesn’t know why all those grown-ups are yelling.
We can tell ourselves that she’ll never wonder how people can wave the American flag and look so mean and that she’ll grow up to be better than the mob mentality around her.
We can tell ourselves whatever we think will make us feel better.
We all know it’s just more magical thinking.
Connie Schultz is a syndicated columnist and an essayist for Parade magazine. She is also the author of two books.
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