Monday, January 21, 2008 at 2:02am
Tacos and the politics of immigration
Column: Left Coast Lions' Den
In the coming weeks, as the primaries swing to the South and West, immigration will play a growing role in the drama of presidential politics. The candidates will be proposing immigration policies in an effort to capture the voters' fancy, but before any of our would-be presidents has the opportunity actually to set immigration policy, I'd like for them to visit me in the barrio where I live in East San Jose.
When Americans talk about immigration, too much of the conversation is driven by fear. We are afraid that newcomers will hurt our economy by pilfering American jobs and by taking advantage of too many American social services. We are afraid of balkanization, afraid that we might be foreigners in our own land as more and more people speak languages other than English.
Pandering to American fears around the impact of immigration, politicians are proposing a long list of policies and projects aimed at keeping immigrants — particularly those who have crossed our borders without proper documentation — out of the United States. All of the major presidential candidates are calling for tighter security along the U.S./Mexico border, and most favor greater punitive measures against those who hire undocumented workers. The Republican candidates, with the exception of John McCain (who, being from a border state, probably knows better) all favor the construction of a fence from the Gulf of Mexico to the Pacific Ocean. On the campaign trail there is talk of biometric identification cards and high-tech spyware for the observation of possible border crossers.
Some of those ideas may be just fine, but I doubt it's ever a good idea to allow fear to drive public policy.
Looking at the demographics of my neighborhood, one might think it would be a place where such fears are realized, but it is not. My barrio is a wonderful place to live, and I'd like for immigration policy to reflect not what we fear but what is beautiful and hopeful in immigrant communities.
People in my neighborhood come — with and without the official permission of the United States government — from all over Latin America and Asia, but the dominant culture is Mexican. Most of the businesses cater to those who speak Spanish. The Catholic church across the way from my home is named in honor of Mexico's patron saint, Our Lady of Guadalupe. From its sanctuary on most Saturdays mariachis serenade brides and grooms and girls on their 15th birthdays. On cold evenings, if you're lucky, you can find a street vendor selling fresh churros; and the tacos are proof of God's abiding love for humanity.
My neighborhood isn't perfect: The schools are sub-par and we have a graffiti problem, but people get along where I live as well as they do anywhere. There is a solid work ethic in the community. Small businesses are thriving. My neighborhood is not a scary place. The future it represents is a bright one.
I realize that my experience living among immigrants in East San Jose doesn't tell the whole immigration story, but it tells an important part of the story, and everyone running for president should come and see how good life can be in a community of immigrants, preferably while eating tacos and with mariachi music from a nearby quinceñera dancing through this very American barrio.
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Ben Daniel is the pastor of Foothill Presbyterian Church in San Jose, Calif. Visit his website or send him an email at {email ben@bendaniel.org}ben@bendaniel.org{/email}. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Daniel.
When Americans talk about immigration, too much of the conversation is driven by fear. We are afraid that newcomers will hurt our economy by pilfering American jobs and by taking advantage of too many American social services. We are afraid of balkanization, afraid that we might be foreigners in our own land as more and more people speak languages other than English.
Pandering to American fears around the impact of immigration, politicians are proposing a long list of policies and projects aimed at keeping immigrants — particularly those who have crossed our borders without proper documentation — out of the United States. All of the major presidential candidates are calling for tighter security along the U.S./Mexico border, and most favor greater punitive measures against those who hire undocumented workers. The Republican candidates, with the exception of John McCain (who, being from a border state, probably knows better) all favor the construction of a fence from the Gulf of Mexico to the Pacific Ocean. On the campaign trail there is talk of biometric identification cards and high-tech spyware for the observation of possible border crossers.
Some of those ideas may be just fine, but I doubt it's ever a good idea to allow fear to drive public policy.
Looking at the demographics of my neighborhood, one might think it would be a place where such fears are realized, but it is not. My barrio is a wonderful place to live, and I'd like for immigration policy to reflect not what we fear but what is beautiful and hopeful in immigrant communities.
People in my neighborhood come — with and without the official permission of the United States government — from all over Latin America and Asia, but the dominant culture is Mexican. Most of the businesses cater to those who speak Spanish. The Catholic church across the way from my home is named in honor of Mexico's patron saint, Our Lady of Guadalupe. From its sanctuary on most Saturdays mariachis serenade brides and grooms and girls on their 15th birthdays. On cold evenings, if you're lucky, you can find a street vendor selling fresh churros; and the tacos are proof of God's abiding love for humanity.
My neighborhood isn't perfect: The schools are sub-par and we have a graffiti problem, but people get along where I live as well as they do anywhere. There is a solid work ethic in the community. Small businesses are thriving. My neighborhood is not a scary place. The future it represents is a bright one.
I realize that my experience living among immigrants in East San Jose doesn't tell the whole immigration story, but it tells an important part of the story, and everyone running for president should come and see how good life can be in a community of immigrants, preferably while eating tacos and with mariachi music from a nearby quinceñera dancing through this very American barrio.
— — —
Ben Daniel is the pastor of Foothill Presbyterian Church in San Jose, Calif. Visit his website or send him an email at {email ben@bendaniel.org}ben@bendaniel.org{/email}. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Daniel.