Dear America brings light in the heat

 

Dear America cover

Jose Antonio Vargas, Dear America: Notes of an Undocumented Citizen. New York: Dey St, 2018.

The U.S.-Mexico border right now is a mess, which is not new. America has for decades winked at the movement of undocumented workers, families, and asylum seekers, while demonizing it and making it more dangerous.  Border crossings slowed during and after the 2008 recession, but ongoing anti-immigrant politics fueled a policy of gratuitous cruelty during the Trump Administration. 

President Biden has brought refreshing change in many respects, but the problems at the border persist. (For a critique of Biden administration policy, see Chacon 2021.) May 2021 saw the most Border Patrol encounters in over 20 years, while conditions at detention facilities remain bad. Republicans see immigration from Mexico as a potential political goldmine: border governors Greg Abbott (R-TX) and Doug Ducey (R-AZ) have called for states to send National Guard troops, with eager responses from Kim Reynolds (R-IA) and Ron DeSantis (R-FL). South Dakota governor Kristi Noem is sending that state's Guard, too, funded by a grant from Willis and Reba Johnson's Foundation. Meanwhile, Democrats are split on policy and hence over the administration's response. "The [Biden] administration is making Democrats look weak," said Rep. Henry Cuellar (D-TX), while Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (D-NY) wants increasing immigration from the South and terms the administration's ambivalence "disappointing" (Jaffe 2021).

A Quinnipiac Poll taken shortly after Biden's inauguration found only 20 percent of respondents preferring that undocumented people in the United States be required to leave, even lower than the 25 percent four years earlier. More than half of respondents to a 2019 Gallup Poll said Central American refugees should be allowed to stay in the U.S. (Polling Report data on immigration opinion are here.) Such data suggest there's room for maneuvering on policy, but the politics on the ground definitely lean to the restrictive.

Amidst the speeches and deployments, it is easy to forget that undocumented residents and asylum seekers are actual human beings. One man who's made it his mission to keep this in front of people's awareness is Jose Antonio Vargas, an independent journalist who is himself undocumented, albeit from the Philippines not Mexico. Vargas uses his personal story to describe the complexity of the larger situation, not aggressively but in a three-dimensional way that often goes beyond our country’s two-dimensional political talk. Dear America is a model of presenting a very personal topic with more light than heat.

Along the way, he raises many other issues worth discussing in themselves: in Part I ("Lying") he talks about  family (ch 2), being the new and different kid in school (ch 3), having responsibility at a young age (ch 7), and life choices (coming out, in ch 8). In Part II ("Passing") he talks about curiosity (ch 1), writing (ch 2), seeking and accepting help (chs 2-3 & 9), moral dilemmas (chs 4 & 6), identity (chs 5 & 10), and resourcefulness (chs 7 & 10). The themes of Part III ("Hiding") include home, belonging, and the privileges that come with fame. His snappy style makes for easy reading, but the issues he raises are not easy.

Two of the book’s themes in particular touch on our common life: the meaning of citizenship, and the struggles created for individuals by complicated legal frameworks.

Vargas discusses "citizen" as a role you practice, not as a status you possess.

If I was not considered an American because I didn't have the right papers, then practicing journalism--writing in English, interviewing Americans, making sense of the people and places around me--was my way of writing myself into America. (58)

He describes a "citizenship of participation:" Citizenship is showing up. Citizenship is using your voice while making sure you hear other people around you. Citizenship is how you live your life. Citizenship is resilience (199-200). That sounds a lot like a common life. And when FOX News provocateur Bill O'Reilly asserts to Vargas "You and the other people here illegally don't deserve to be here," Vargas asks himself, "What has O'Reilly done to 'deserve' to be here?" (151-152). O'Reilly was born in the United States, and thus by constitutional right is a citizen, but how does what he does contribute to our common life?

City planners, developers, and business owners contribute greatly to our common life, against strong headwinds of regulations. When it comes to dealing with absurd legal complexities, though, no group has anything on immigrants. As Vargas's profile rose in the 2010s, his undocumented status began to be seen as willfulness by those with whom he sparred. "It's something I want to fix," he explains to one man who confronts him on a plane, "and there's no way to fix it." The man is incredulous: "You want to get legal?" "Of course," Vargas responds. "Why would I want to be like this?" (160) After another encounter on FOX News, "I wanted to keep repeating: there is no line [in which to wait for legal citizenship]. I wanted to scream, over and over again: THERE IS NO LINE! THERE IS NO LINE! THERE IS NO LINE!" (154)

[I]n April 2017, [Bill] Maher told me he was confused. "I just don't understand," he said, "why you just can't fix this thing," as if "this thing" is a chipped tooth or a dent in a Tesla. If Maher, of all people, doesn't understand how even someone high profile like me can't just "fix this thing," then it shouldn't be a surprise that most people, regardless of political affiliation, have no idea how the immigration system works. (131)

The legal process he needs literally does not exist, unless he returned to his birth country for ten years (82). (Even legal avenues were closed off by the Trump administration; see Rampell 2020.) Other technicalities frustrate him. When he finds out he could have been adopted by his (documented) grandparents, he has passed the maximum age of 16 (65). When President Obama announces Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) in 2012, Vargas is four months too old to be eligible. Even for those of the right age, "DACA is temporary and not everybody qualifies," and filing costs nearly $500 (146). Meanwhile, the tax laws certainly are flexible enough that undocumented workers pay substantial amounts in payroll and income taxes (124-126).

A common life involves laws, and boundaries, but it also requires seeing each other's humanity, and a set of laws that ordinary people can understand and follow. Vargas's snappy prose helps point the way.

SEE ALSO: "Eventually, We're Going to Have to Figure Out Immigration," 10 January 2019