Unmasking the "Alien"
By Jimena Ferrer
Growing up I saw you in the news, I saw you in my home, and now I see you behind bars The “illegal alien”
We share so many similarities
Our skin color, our language
Our roots, OUR ancestors
We come from the same land
whether it be stolen or preserved
We were born both under the same moon and sun
But what distinguishes us is the border which separates us
We share so much
We have the same blood running through our veins
Yet I am the citizen dignified of rights, while you are labeled alien
Not human, or even of this earth
I've seen many versions of you
The mother, the Dreamer, the fighter
I remember you trying to work and getting raided by ICE
I saw you dragged out of your car by police and pushed to the ground placed in handcuffs What did you do?
You wanted to drop your kids off at school with a broken taillight
I see the shame in your face when others laugh at your accent
“Speak English or go back” they say
Ignorantly disrespecting a language which has survived hundreds of years of genocide Nuestra lengua como miel se derrite en nuestras lenguas con rasgos dulces de nuestra cultura the sweet rhythm of our culture rolling off our tongues like the r’s we pronounce so smoothly Yet they don't see beauty, they see hate
We are raza, meaning we are family
Y entre la familia nos cuidamos
So, I visit you and am welcomed by the buzzing of the gate at the correctional facility I'm nervous as I wait for you to arrive through the other side
I don't know who I am expecting to see
I look across this plexiglass expecting to see a stranger
But I’m confronted with a mirror
A representation of how this country sees me and my people
When the government sees us both they see one enemy
One target
This could've been me, this could've been my mother
An illegal alien who is here to take jobs, a brown girl from the hood set up to fail We are seen with villainized lenses yet
What distinguished our life paths was our fate
A fate we couldn't control
Our birthplace
Being a brown person in America often comes with many systems of oppression You are the default steppingstone
Yet the privilege I hold with citizenship is the major difference in the treatment we receive Guilt is inevitable
The guilt I entered with, I leave with
That is because I can't leave with you
It is the same guilt I felt when I couldn't protect my own mother from ICE When I see you, I see myself
I see my mother
I see the cycle of trauma and pain that comes with separating families
You sit in your cell watching time pass you by
Your kids celebrate their birthdays in foster care
Your parents pass away while your detained
But you don't have the right to compassion because you're illegal
Because you are “the other”
This system doesn't see a refugee
It doesn't see a family man, a mother fighting for her children, a confused child It sees the color of your skin and the difference in your language
You are no longer human, you are aliens, you are disposable property used for labor until you are replaced by the endless number of immigrants who will continue to cross Unless you're a white immigrant of course, a favorable naturalized immigrant “A good immigrant”
Then you can overstay your visa as long as you'd like
I see you but they don't
GEO is 30 minutes from my home
You sit less than a foot away from me
Your voice restricted by the glass and broken phone connection
I hear you, yet they don't
People don't know your story, your living conditions
Your suffering, intentionally hidden from the media because they know the system is cruel
I always knew of your existence, even though I didn't personally know YOU I knew the difficulties of being undocumented, but I didn’t know YOUR experience Being the daughter of a formerly undocumented immigrant
You have sparked something in me, behind bars you have made a change One person in a cage is one too many, and until my people are free
Until there is a reform in the immigration system
Until racism is recognized in the immigration system
Until every last family is reunited
The fight is not over The fight for YOU is not over and the fire within la raza will never extinguish Our existence is resistance on its own, we are raza, somos familia