End of Border Beat

My last entry was supposed to be the last one, or at least the last one that had anything to do with public safety and issues along the border that have changed the Arizona-Mexico border this semester. Enough with the Customs and Border Patrol Issues, I thought to myself. I covered most of the ones I wanted to cover anyways. This class has brought me to explore more than I ever would have imagined I would reach. My favorite were the people, I knew in my head. People affected by the border, living on both sides. No more sad news about people please, enough enough enough. But then, well, then there’s the end.

And as always, thanks enough for caring to read any of my writing at all.

Father Ricardo Elford

Throughout my coverage of border and immigration issues regarding public safety for this blog, I have come across so many people whose faces and stories I will never forget. They are faces of those who have been affected –either in grave matters or smaller forms–by the Arizona-Mexico border and the heat and tension that exists around it. But none compare to having met Father Ricardo for an article I wrote for The Arizona Daily Star on Clinica Amistad.

Father Ricardo Elford is extremely smart and very funny. It is no surprise to anyone that after having reported on how he has been helping the community of South Tucson and launching a free health clinic that provides medical care for the uninsured, I admire his intelligence but also his witty ability to make a light-hearted joke out of anything. He is one of those people who has a super kind exterior and is very easy to approach but whose personality is so worthwhile that it’s easy to forget the captivating, changing acts that are helping the poor and needy so fervently.

But if you were to talk into the Pima County’s Women, Infants & Children building in South Tucson on a Wednesday evening, you would see that he his actions are having echoing effects.

To read my article on Clinica Amistad, which was published in the Spanish edition of the paper, click here.

The best part about Jen is that she is passionate. She is passionate about the club that she founded, and she is passionate about music, and about Vail, and about Gamma Phi Beta, and travel, and about her father, but most important of all, she is passionate about people.

Father Ricardo, in all essence, is passionate about people because he believes in them. He believes that people need help even if it is hard to find it for them with the current laws of governments and our legislature, and he believes things will go right as long as people are helping even if it seems that things are too difficult to accomplish, and he believes in love and faith and second chances. But the best thing about Father Ricardo is that he believes in people he believed in me. When I first approached him as a news reporter apprentice from The Star, he was worried about the attention my article would draw, and doubted that it would be a good idea. After all, they were already over-booked well into June and did not have enough room nor resources for patients. But Father Ricardo had faith, and saw the better in someone he hardly knew, like myself, and trusted me and my reporting.

Despite the brief end to my reporting once I left the clinic late on a Wednesday night and new I probably wouldn’t hear from any of those people once my article was read and gone, I knew that Father Ricardo had changed the way I see the world and want to help people, and I know that many others have been helped greatly as a result of his perspectives.

Sometimes I think Father Ricardo believing in a young reporter like me with something so volatile and dear to him, with the risk he would be exploited, is the reason why I love reporting in communities near the border. It is why I am up late on a Sunday night writing a blog post that isn’t going to be published in any newspaper, that nobody even has to read. I love people like those I met through Father Ricardo because I want to write about them, because they are that good and important, and because I know that at the end of the day, the best part of my journalism reporting isn’t just that they are trusting and believing in me, it is that we are believing in each other.

Nogales Police Station

Earlier this year, news broke that the Nogales Police was planning on building a new police station for their staff to work out of. But they made headlines by the fact that they planned on using RICO funds–money taken from drug seizes, unreported cash forfeitures, and other methods of taking “dirty money” from the bad guys.

Of course, there is a lengthy process before this money can go back to law enforcement officers, which you can check out here for specifications: click here.

I interviewed Nogales Police Chief Jeff Kirkham to find out more on his plans for a new police station:

Kirkham said they are working on taking it step by step and that it may take up to six years for the new police station to become a reality. First, they need approval of the new facility though a needs assessment process that may or may not. They have selected WSM Architects of Tucson to do the needs assessment.

Clearly the Nogales Police Station, which is more than 30 years old, is in need of more than a makeover. But the price tag for that is just out of the budget.

After being denied funds by Nogales City Council for a new station to be built, Kirkham decided to find money another way: through using money seized by Customs and Border Protection and other officers. Dirty money. The question is, how ethical is this?

According to Kirkham, a new station is more than just a want, it is a need. Their current station was built in 1978 and meant to fit 35 people in it. There is no secure parking space, and even Kirkham’s own car has been damaged by a hit-in-run.

And to top it off, the current facility is in a flood plane, said John Hays, the floodplain coordinator of Santa Cruz County. If a catastrophic flood  were to occur, police and staff would have to abandon the facility, leaving the public temporarily without assistance from our communications facility.

The entire project would cost around 5 million dollars, Kirkham estimated. As of early April, they have funds in accounts-or funds guaranteed to be deposited- of 1 million.

So Kirkham began thinking of using the aforementioned funds for this project, or at least to make up for the other $4 million they need. Racketeer Influenced Corrupt Organization (RICO) funds are proceeds generated by law enforcement from asset forfeitures. State and federal law specifies the money must go toward fighting and preventing drug use and organized crime.

Plans began coming to fruition in late 2011, when the Nogales City Council authorized to fund a needs assement for the new police station to see if the project was feasible.

According to Kirkham, City Council will then review the needs assessment and decide whether or not to approve the funding. If approved, the plan will then move towards a construction bidding process where a contractor will be selected by bid.

Santa Cruz County Attorney George E. Silva said the funds are seized by the Nogales Police Department and processed for forfeiture by the Attorney General’s Office. The Santa Cruz County Attorney’s Office is not involved with forfeitures.

Now all they must do it wait to be approved.

St. Andrew’s

Everyone who has ever been to St. Andrew’s Children’s Clinic has an absolutely changing experience. It is no coincidence that a project was organized for students in our Border Beat class to go as a group, because it brought us all to a new journalistic experience and put a smile on any face we encountered along the way. I’m lucky enough to have been to the clinic twice, and know that it is something that has truly has made a special mark on the student and journalist I am today.

 

Volunteers filing paperwork for mothers and guardians waiting to be seen by doctors and health care practitioners at St. Andrew's Children's Health Clinic.

When I think back on St. Andrew’s, I think of sickness and help and chatter and children’s enchanting brown eyes. It all began on a Thursday morning.

On those days, when my class schedule allows me to sleep in past 7 a.m., I play a game of how-long-can-i-sleep-in-until-my-alarm-wakes-my-roommate-up. But on that day, I had to drag my self out of bed, croaking. I had ten minutes to meet the rest of the group going to St. Andrew’s on campus, I thought to myself from her pathetic spot in my bed.

But best of all, I was awake and eager to go. Even when I am running on a short few hours of sleep, I could only feel awfully tired for about ten seconds before skipping down the stairs with my camera equipment and notebooks in hand. The last time I had gone down to Nogales gave me an incredible outlook on life and other cultures that are around me, including animals and elderly people I might have never come to know.

After racing against an infinite streak of red lights, I made it to the parking lot behind the University of Arizona’s Marshall building, where we were meeting.

A few minutes after heading out to Nogales with Maria and Sam, two other students, we were all sitting in my little Toyota together, and each of us was talking about the kind of things we had done in journalism. Sam talked about how he’d been abroad in Egypt and the Middle East. Maria told us about like back in Brazil and Central America. I managed to reminisce back on my first St. Andrew’s Children’s Clinic for a few minutes.

All I could think about was how I felt after leaving, rather than just my experience there. That small reminder and nostalgia was all I needed to get my day going; the same way I had once thought that even if these children and families were in really bad healthcare situations, there was someone out there in the universe who cared.

Getting to go to St. Andrew’s has been one of the best things that has happened to me at U of A. Tune in Wednesday for my Border Beat blog on St. Andrew’s Clinic.

 

Preston Fawcett, a Border Beat student, shooting video of a child, "Tito," at St. Andrew's Clinic who accompanied his sick little brother, mother and grandmother.

Pot Found in Cucumber Shipments

Nogales, Ariz. —What would you expect to find hidden in a shipment of cucumbers? No one would have guessed 1,800 pounds of marijuana, but last Wednesday Customs and Border Protection officers working in the Tucson Field Office had to make a seizure after running across this exact situation in the shipment, worth more than $900,000.

A 27-year-old Mexican man was arrested after officers did an X-ray inspection of his tractor-trailer as he tried entering the United States through the Mariposa Commercial Port, according to a news release.

During the process the X-ray operator noticed something odd in the shipment of cucumbers, which led to a secondary inspection.

The cucumber shipment that had the marijuana hidden within. Photo courtesy of Customs and Border Protection.

It was then that CBP officers found 224 bundles of marijuana hidden with the produce. The driver was arrested and turned over to U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement’s Homeland Security. The drugs and tractor-trailer were seized and turned over to the DEA.

Brent Cagen, a Tucson Sector Public Affair’s Officer said most drug seizures are usually turned over to the Drug Enforcement Administration, where they destroy the marijuana. “They have special incinerators that they can put the marijuana in. They will burn it at such a hot level that it will burn the smoke as well, so nothing is left of the drugs except vapor.”

Photo courtesy of Customs and Border Protection.

Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument Threatened by Drug Cartel String of Violence

Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument is home to 28 cactus species and many other plants and animals. After bodies began showing up near the park last year along the Mexican border, lawmakers and officials felt the park was too dangerous to allow tourists through.

In the summer of 2011, the body of a man whose throat had been slit was found inside a plastic bag near Lukeville in southwestern Arizona, a short walk outside of the park. This violent occurrence was the second time in two years that a dead body was found after being dragged from Mexico and dumped on the grounds of Organ Pipe National Monument. Before then, a murdered victim had been killed by gunfire and found west of the park.

Yet the park is a huge part of Arizona, and tourists still come from all over the nation to see the cactuses and tour the park. The organ pipe cactus is larger and more prolific than most others. It can have 10 or 20 stalks that can grow up to 15 feet high.

Violence was escalating in Mexico as the years progressed and rather than getting better, things were only becoming more and more heated. The park neighbors the border of Sonoyta, Sonora, Mexico, which is one of the Mexican border cities that has served as a continuous battleground for cartels. As warlords and their pawns fought for territory to use for drug smuggling and moving people, murders became common.

But there was one murder that was the tip of the ice berg for Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument.

On August 9, 2002, park ranger Kristopher William Eggle was murdered while chasing down alleged drug smuggles through the park near the area of the Quitobaquito site–a natural oasis fueled by a gushing spring in the desert. While trying to stop this string of drug cartel members, he was shot and dead within hours. Eggle was only 28 years old.

Soon after, areas of the gorgeous Quitobaquito site closed all of its doors to the public. Tours were cancelled until further noticed, and park rangers feared the escalating levels of drug violence.

Recently, Matthew Vandzura, chief ranger at the monument, told the Arizona Daily Star that officials are looking at the possibility of opening up 10 percent more of the monument, saying that smuggling traffic is easing up.

Tours are now open to the public, but they must be accompanied by a Border Patrol agent–or no tour. The agent is armed, carrying a rifle near the tour bus, and is not to leave the side of the traveling audience. (See photos posted by the Arizona Daily Star here).

Given the previous string of murders and threat level from Mexico, would you take one of these tours?

Border Patrol Seizes High Amounts of Narcotics Last Week

According to a Customs and Border Patrol news release, in the span of a brief 48 hours last week, $1.3 million in marijuana were seized near the border in Arizona.

 

 

The following are news updates released by Border Patrol that I felt my blog readers might find interesting. To check out more, visit: http://www.cbp.gov/xp/cgov/newsroom/

 

Tuesday, March 20, 2012:

Federal Route 15 Checkpoint

A truck was off-roading in the desert near Kohatk, Ariz., when it caught Border Patrol’s attention. The agents followed the truck, after calling for backup, and turned on their lights to pull them over.

Then the driver and passenger jumped out of the car and began to run. The Border Patrol agents stopped the run-away car as it sped off without anyone behind the wheel, only to find there was a man hiding in the bed of the truck with 27 bundles of marijuana. According to Border Patrol, the bundles of narcotics weighed a total of 630 lbs. and are estimated to be worth $315,000.

Thursday, March 22, 2012:

Leukerville Port

It was a mild-weathered day when Ajo Station’s ATV’s began a tracking operation near the border wall to search for narcotics. They were led to 15 bundles of marijuana hidden in a wash. The 762 lbs. of pot are estimated to be worth $381,000, and were turned over to the DEA.

Thursday (night), March 22, 2012:

Ajo, Ariz.

An aircraft, operated by Customs and Border Protection’s Office of Air and Marine, was hovering over the desert unmanned when it spotted what it believed were drug smugglers. An ATV immediately reported to the area, where agents found 26 Mexican men with 24 bundles of marijuana. The drugs weighed about 1,200 lbs. and are estimated to be worth about $600,000.

Market on the Move

It began as an idea to save the unwanted fruits and vegetables thrown away by grocery stores each produce season when many in Arizona are struggling to fill their fridge.

Volunteers gathered at Mt. Zion Church on Saturday, March 24, 2012, to unload produce and organize it by fruit or vegetable on a row of tables where people could choose what they wanted to take home for a $10 donation.

Since the 3000 Club began in 2010, more than 30 million pounds of fruits and vegetables–including tomatoes, squash, eggplant, and melon–have been given to people rather than thrown away.

Volunteer Ester Havey was friends with the 3000 Club co-founder Ethel Luzario, who took her to Nolages, Ariz., for the first time to pick up some of the unwanted produce, pile it into their vans, and eventually give it away to the needy.

“I saw pallets and pallets, and I saw some that was about to be thrown out into the landfill,” Havey said about her first trip with Luzario to pick up some of the produce. “When I saw this produce in Nogales I said I gotta do this. I gotta bring this to the people.”

The Market on the Move events began in host sites like schools and churches in Metro Phoenix, then expanded to Tucson last year. They have also held a few events in Green Valley and hope to expand.

“This part of the community has been overwhelming,” said Ester Havey, who first brought Market onthe Move to Tucson. “Especially at this time. There are so many people, including myself, stretching our budget in this economy.”

Havey now overlooks about six Tucson sites and said there is an overabundance of food to give out, but a need for more people to know it is available.

Market on the Move is operated by the 3000 Club, a non-profit organization. They collaborate with Borderlands Food Bank , which picks up fruits and vegetables like tomatoes, squash, eggplant, cantaloupe, watermelon and peppers.

The produce is USDA-approved and must be in 75% top condition before it is taken.

Yolanda Soto, president and CEO of Borderlands Food Bank, said they rescue between 30 and 40 million pounds of fresh produce each season. It is inspected and sorted before a donator can take it home or give it to someone in need.

Produce to be given out for a $10 donation at Mt. Zion Church on Saturday, March 24, 2012.

“It might be a neighbor, it might be friends and family, or it might be themselves,” said Ethel Luzario , co-founder and CEO of the 3000 Club.

Market on the Move has 11 events planned in Tucson this month.

Here’s a video of the 3000 Club’s founder, Lon Taylor, talking about food rescue in Arizona.

Drug Tunnel Raid

March 5, 2012.

On Friday, authorities said they raided and shut down a drug-smuggling tunnel where 550 pounds of bundled marijuana were hidden.

The tunnel, which is said to be only recently built, was in downtown Nogales at the intersection of Nelson and East International streets and allowed for transport from Mexico into the U.S.

Going in from both ends of the tunnel, U.S. federal agents and their alliances from Mexico entered early Thursday morning, according to a news release from U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE).

The 550 pounds of bundled marijuana they found inside were taken into custody of Mexican federal police officers. No people were found inside.

Thursday’s operation came as a result of an investigation led by ICE’s Homeland Security Investigations (HSI) and coordinated with the U.S. Border Patrol’s Tucson Sector, ICE said, adding: “Evidence gathered during the investigation leads agents to believe the tunnel was only completed this week.”

The tunnel is approximately 110 feet long. It had no ventilation or electrical equipment, ICE said in a news release.

The entrance on the U.S. side of the tunnel was hidden by plants and rocks. It ran about five feet below the ground.

In the last three years, federal authorities have discovered and shut down 22 completed cross-border smuggling tunnels in the Nogales area.

El Comedor

“The dining room,” in case you’re wondering. Except this one is small, as Mexicans, Guatemalans, Salvadorians and all types of what one could classify as Latin Americans were squeezed into a tiny dark room to gather for a quaint but dire meal for them. Animals crackers and salsa, was on the menu today.

Photo by Lucy Valencia

The comedor is a lot of things, it’s dark and solemn, it’s quaint but crowded, it’s fast-paced and at times, slow moving. But more than anything, the comedor is, for the dozens of starving and tired deportees waiting in its long line, a last drop of hope. Alongside the desire that one day, they’ll make it back to the U.S. for whatever family, love, job or dream they left behind before they were deported to Nogales, Sonora, Mexico, by the U.S. Border Patrol.

Photo by Lucy Valencia

Photo by Lucy Valencia

Photo by Lucy Valencia

 February 24, 2012

It was early morning on a Saturday, when three students (including myself)  from Professor Rochlin’s Border Beat class at the University of Arizona traveled to Nogales, Sonora, to spend a day reporting on the deportees that went to El Comedor for refuge.

Photo by Lucy Valencia

Meeting these people was my absolute favorite reporting trip I’ve ever experienced, because the entire day I felt like my eyes were opened to a whole new level of poverty and faces of people that I only had seen as statistics. I felt like a princess, but not in a fairtytale way. More like in a way that made me sick to think I was so lucky. Looking down at my Chuck Taylor shoes, the most universal pair of American sneakers that comforted and shielded my pedicured toes, I met face to face with a woman who had no shoes– her feet swollen, cracked and blistered.

Photo by Lucy Valencia

So the Comedor absolutely enchanted me, changed me, called out to me to want to make a difference and broke my heart at the same time.

A mural on inside of El Comedor. Photo by Lucy Valencia

A group of University of Arizona journalism students and myself followed the lead of a retired nurse who volunteers with the Kino Border Initiative, Peg Bowden, who is makes weekly trips to help out at El Comedor.

El Comedor, from a street view. Photo by Lucy Valencia

It all began when Professor Rochlin, Jessica Hoerth, Brett Haupt and I met Peg at a deli in Tubac. Needless to say, we were all eager to begin reporting in Mexico. (Eager enough to give up cherished sleep to be awake at 6 a.m. on a Friday, I know- weird). Some of us had never been to Mexico. I hadn’t ever been to Nogales, Sonora.

Had you been sitting next to us on the hour and a half hour ride from Tucson to Nogales, Sonora, the intellectual exchange you would have overheard would’ve been bubbly and excited, as we chatted away about school, classes and graduation. I daydreamed about what kind of stories we might end up with.

But I don’t think anyone of us were prepared for what was in store.

Then I finally saw it. The border wall. It was grandiose and boisterous, yet I couldn’t help but feel the overabundance of security, meant to keep humans from other humans, seemed brutal and segregating.

U.S.-Mexico border wall near Nogales, Sonora. Photo by Lucy Valencia

We walked and people-watched as we made our way to the Mexican side of the border. An endless line of semi-trucks and cars waited on the Mexican “frontera” to cross over to the U.S. side. It was very clear that getting to Mexico would be a hassle-free step through a gate… But it was the returning to America part that made you wait, wait, wait, and wait in a hot and patience-testing line before it was your turn to prove your authentication with a flash of your best smile and a passport, as a guard made certain you had the certified rights to enter the country before granting you admission.

The "welcome" sign into Mexico. I got in trouble for taking this photo by Mexican law enforcement. But made it out alive and unscathed. Photo by Lucy Valencia

We eventually found our way to El Comedor, a shack-like place about 10 feet from the border, with a colorful green sign reading “FRONTERA USA” over its roof, almost a tease to deportees and hopeful immigrants of how close they were to the land they desired most but where barred from. El Comedor was run by a team of Jesuits and nuns who worked with the Kino Border Initiative to clothe immigrants with donated items, feed them and pray with them.

Photo by Lucy Valencia

The latter was the most powerful. Whether you are Christian, Agnostic, Atheist, or anywhere in between–the faith of these people can be felt just by hearing the entire room rattle with prayer before they begin a meal of crackers and salsa.

When we first arrived, I saw yet another line of people waiting out in the sun; this one much more difficult to comprehend than the one outside the border. Tired and unwashed faces waited on the sidewalk outside of the Comedor for food, water, shelter, clothes, and anything they could get. Most people were adults anywhere from their twenties to old age, and there were about double the amount of men as there were women.

Some of these people had no shoes, other hadn’t eaten in days. Most looked at us intensely, with their big brown eyes as we walked by.

Photo by Lucy Valencia

We walked into the shack, and were greeted by a sister of the Missionary of the Eucharist. She introduced us to the immigrants who were inside–dozens of them. They stared as they were told that we were “periodistas,” journalists. I was just a student though, still not completely sure what I was doing. Just hoping there was enough memory in my card to take extra video in case I messed up. Just trying to remember how to speak my best Spanish, so I didn’t make a fool out of myself when I talked to these people. I wanted to give them my best attention, and I couldn’t even think of the Spanish word for “interview.”

Alas, my eye-opening trip came to an end. It was weird returning to the U.S. side of the border so easily and getting that familiar feeling in your stomach, the one where you have just come back from a trip and are overwhelmingly disappointed to be home. Except I wasn’t back home, I was in Tucson, another incredible city where I’d probably go home and Netflix movie on my Macbook from my bed, then go out to dinner, return to my townhome in a gated community, maybe swim in my jacuzzi and fall asleep between two down comforters and my array of seven pillows. How spoiled we are…and how lucky.It almost made me sick. I’m Chicana, as Erick had told me. Embrassingly enough, I had to call my mom and ask what exactly that meant.

It is a Mexican, who was born in the United States.

I have Mexican roots but an American soul. I had lived in San Diego, Calif., Yuma, Ariz., and Tucson, Ariz., by the time I turned 20–never once considering my culture a factor of whether or not I was allowed to live there. In fact, I felt more “American” amidst my clique of blonde best friends growing up than most white people.

I loved reading and writing as a child, and people often came to me, the Mexican in the class, for help with grammar and writing.

In my free time back during high school and college I was obsessed with running, yoga, pop-culture, Starbucks vanilla lattes, fashion magazines, technology, art and web design. It’d been a dream of mine to one day live in New York City, leading a glamorous life, ever since I moved to what I thought was the smallest, crappiest town on the face of the whole earth.

I kept thinking about how lucky yet naive I was as I drove my car back to my house at the end of our trip.

Erick, who is 19, had already been deported eight times. He escaped a violent gang from east Los Angeles that entrapped him in a crew of fighting, drugs, and guns. The South Side gang provided him with the only “family” he ever knew, yet came with a heavy price tag: felony charges that eventually got him deported from the country.

He’d traveled through rivers and mountains for days without water. He hadn’t showered in weeks. He had not seen his mother or father since he was an infant. And he was ready to try again, all to espace to violence and poverty of Mexico.

Reading back through my old diaries, I learned that as a high schooler, all I really wanted was a golden retriever and a loft in London or New York City. In fact, reading my diary I felt worlds apart from the immigrants I’d seen waiting in line outside of El Comedor. How spoiled rotten and stupid I was.

Just hours ago, I’d spend time with them and felt a closeness to them in culture, in our roots, and in our way of mind. I wanted so desperately to help, and knew they were my people. They were just like me in every way imaginable; but not.

Paul Theroux, a New York Times reporter who wrote about Nogales here, said “It’s there for anyone to discover, and so simple. It was as illuminating to me as any foreign travel I have taken anywhere in the world. In some ways, being so near home and taking less effort, it seemed odder, freighted with greater significance, this wider world at the end of Morley Avenue, just behind the fence.”

So we are in agreement. There is nothing quite like Nogales.

And so El Comedor, you will be missed. Thank you for all of the unforgettable people, places and memories that have broadened my experiences and changed my life. Those moments that I all shared together really will last a lifetime; and all the big things, little things, cherished things, and such truly extraordinary things are now imprinted in our minds and hearts forever.

Deportation: A Family Torn Apart

“He came here illegally,” Lori Martinez began, as she told me the story of how her husband, Sergio Martinez, now cannot enter the U.S. until he gains legal citizenship. “I met him and we got married. We’ve been married for seven years and decided to try to get him citizenship.”

They decided to try because they were getting frustrated and scared with the rise of anti-immgration laws.

Yet the legal way of immigration proved to be more than just a hassle for the couple, who now live more than a two-days drive apart and struggle to make ends meet.

After living together for 10 years, the Whitman, Arizona, couple sought out the counsel of an immigration lawyer. They wanted a path to legal immigration and in order to not fear Sergio getting deported. They eventually met Regina Jeffries, an immigration lawyer in Phoenix, Arizona, who handles deportation and family cases frequently.

She did all the paperwork for them, and now they must wait for a court appointment. But the road to legal immigration was tougher than it seemed. In the mean time, Sergio has been deported. They must wait, under excruciated patience, until his court date.

Lori finds this extremely hard. “Especially right now,” she cried. “I work nights, and I have to drop the kids off with whoever can watch them.”

Sergio has since moved to Aguas Calientes, Mexico, with his family. Yet he has no job. Lori picked up a night job in order to support her two children and to send Sergio money so he can survive. She was already an employee at John C. Lincoln hospital.

Sergio last saw Lori on Jan. 3, 2012. But he has not seen the two children since Sept. 25, 2011.

On Friday, the family traveled to Nogales, Sonora, to meet with him at a hotel for the weekend.

But for Lori, the trip is just a taste of sweetness she can never truly keep.

“Hopefully he gets his passport so he can come home, but if not, if they deny him… then I have no idea what I will do,” she said.

Sergio has asked Lori to move to Mexico with him, but she doesn’t feel like she could. Her whole life has been in America and she fears her children wouldn’t do well there. All their friends are in Arizona and “that is all they know.” They hardly speak enough Spanish to get by in Mexico.

“The biggest thing right now im trying to pay my bills, I’m trying to keep it as normal as we can over here unit he gets back.”

Their next appointment with their lawyer is April 4, 2012. From there, Jeffries told Lori the process could take up to six months to finalize.

“I don’t know how to explain this but its hard. We’ve been together for so long.”

The 28-year-old mother is struggling to keep her family together.

Her daughter with Sergio, 7, has days where she is really clingy to Lori, thinking she might leave too.

“She doesn’t leave my sight for everything,” Lori said. “Sometimes she wakes up at night and she can’t sleep. I feel bad becase I have to work nights now and she can’t sleep when I’m gone.”

The legal process to get her husband back to the U.S. and to their family is far from over yet. But Lori has the support from her friends and family to get her through… “but it’s not the same,” she said.

“I hope the whole thing changes for somebody else, so they don’t have to go through this. This is awful.”

Egyptian Bellydance

 

I never thought I would find a woman in Tucson who also loved dancing in a manner that allowed her to channel an inner Serpent as she transfixed herself in Egyptian dance. Then I met Krishana.

Krishana is a dancer for many reasons. She is bright-eyed and quirky, energetic, compassionate, and extremely animated. She is unbelievably supportive, and truly wants the best for all of her dance members.

Here’s her story:

 

A brother and son fights in the face of femicide

Juan Manuel Fraire Escobedo is seeking political asylum in the United States after his family was brutally shaken to its core by Mexico’s violence.

The chain of violence started when Juan’s 17-year-old sister, Rubi, fell victim to a violent femicide crime. She was brutally murdered in Cuidad Juárez: currently known as the “Murder Capital of the World.”

And the bad news for his family didn’t stop there.

Her killer, a man who had threatened her family and had a past with Rubi, was arrested and tried as a suspect for the murder. Marisela Escobedo, Juan and Rubi’s mother, was devastated when the judicial system declared him innocent even after his confession. So Marisela began protesting in the name of her dead daughter. But her activism did not last long.

Marisela was killed as she was proclaiming justice in a permanent vigil in front of the Chihuahua Governor´s Palace on December 16, 2010. She was shot in the head by the same man tried for Rubi’s murder. To make matters worse, Marisela’s assassination was caught on video tape.

According to news reports, Marisela’s murder was professionally orchestrated and happened in under two minutes.

Now the man who lost both a sister and mother to horrific violence has become a human rights activist. Juan is out on a tour of the U.S. sponsored by the Fellowship of Reconciliation to speak out about the events that shook his family. He is joined by FOR’s John Lindsay-Poland who addresses gun trafficking, the drug war, and what we in the United States can do to help Mexico’s government and people during this violent time. They will discuss gun trafficking to Mexico, the drug war, and what the United States can do.

For the complete tour schedule, click here.

Yuma, Arizona, and Algodones Border Trip

Thursday, February 2, 2011.

Fresh off the I-10 highway and the sun was already beginning to set. And it was hot…. so hot. But hey! I made it! After waiting through all of my Thursday classes and a long, sleepless drive across the state, I was relieved to finally be back home in Yuma, Arizona, the most bizarre place to grow up, despite what most people who actually did grow up there would tell you. So relieved was I, that I kept daydreaming of all the different aspects of Yuma I wanted to capture for my Border Beat article next week. Yuma is the winter agricultural capital of the world, has scorching temperatures creeping above 120 degrees in the summer, and only four, mildly-depressing high schools. Just let me get some decent pictures, was the last thought that crossed my mind before I dozed off into deep sleep that night.

A sunset near the banks of the Colorado River, in Yuma, Arizona. Photo by Lucy Valencia.

Friday, February 3, 2011.

Well, here I was in Yuma. Alone. I needed to go to the Algodones port, about ten minutes away, to take photos of the U.S.-Mexico border. Then mishap #1 happened. As I walked to stand in line to cross the border into Mexico, I noticed a Border Patrol agent on an ATV eyeballing me from afar. I don’t think I knew what was in store.

As soon as I was in Mexico my eyes gazed all over, scanning each face I passed. Children were barefoot, trying to sell tourists anything from bubble gum to bright colored bracelets made of yarn. My eyes zoomed in on the line to go back into the U.S., which reached so far down along the iron-ridged fence that I couldn’t see an end to it. I squinted to see as far as I could, wondering how long it’d take me to get back, but my attention was quickly demanded elsewhere; to the Mexican man behind me, who did not seem happy at all.

“No puedes tomar fotos! Borralas!” Oh gosh, he was talking to me. Clearly he was some sort of law enforcement officer, only a few years older than me, with a rifle slung over his shoulder. He was staring down at my Canon t31 around my neck. “Sorry, I’m a student…estudiante?”

He didn’t seem put off by that at all, but instead continued pointing at the camera in my hands and telling me to delete all my photographs. Just as I convinced myself that this situation would improve drastically if I simply played the role of a silly American student and walked away, he stood in front of me and asked to see all my photographs. “You need to delete them. Now!” he ordered in Spanish.

I hadn’t taken that many photos at all. Of course. “Okay, sorry. Thank you!” I said, much too loudly, and then smiled stupidly. He laughed and turned to another officer who had approached and he said, “Esta es bien Americana, eh!” and made some kind of funny smirk to go along with it.

I knew Spanish. Very well, actually. It’s all I spoke growing up at home with my father, who hardly speaks any English, except enough to instruct my brothers and I to stop playing music so loudly and to tell me to study for the LSAT more often. I could hear him now, worried and telling me to be more careful. You don’t know Mexico, he had told me.

I showed them the screen on the back of my camera, casually skimming backwards through my memory card of photos from Christmas and New Years. None of the border. “See?” I said with what I thought was my best smile, but actually must have been sheer fear personified on a 21-year-old’s face.

I turned my camera off and left quickly, continuing on my way. The only problem was once I got away, I had no idea how far the end of the line was, and there seemed to be multiple ones headed in the general direction of the port.

 To make matters worse, the second mishap happened. The law enforcement officer had told a few others of me and my DSLR making an appearance on their territory and I could feel their eyes on me the entire time I was on Mexican soil. So much for a getting great photographs near the border.

Photo by Lucy Valencia

The events that followed went like this: about an hour and a half hour later, I met up with a group of three American women who had crossed the border to buy medication and were also headed back to Yuma. Turns out they were the nicest ladies in the world, and we all waited in line together for an hour longer. They told me of the best restaurants to eat in Algodones, gushing about the delicious tacos and beers they had just had, laughing as they shared stories of the worst bars in town, and eventually we exchanged email addresses.

Finally, I made it back across the border and to my car.

Next, time I won’t lug around such a huge camera to offset people, and maybe will even go with taking pictures with my phone. But I loved going across the border into Algodones, Sonora, Mexico…. even when the people in line were a little impatient or frustrated.  No matter how many times the beggars (which ranged from toddlers to the elderly) saddened me when they tried selling gum or candy and were shoo’d away, they always offered a little smile or gracias at the end, in attempt to soften their rather blunt nature.

As I walked back towards my car to start driving towards San Diego, I saw a border patrol car zoom off with its red and blue lights blaring in the night sky. Perhaps it was chasing after them, I thought as a crowd of others who were legally crossing the border to their port, were on their home.

Lately I have been thinking that I was very happy to be able to go home with the simple show of a passport and without any trouble, too.

The "Ocean to Ocean" bridge in Yuma, Arizona. Photo by Lucy Valencia

The banks of the Colorado River near Prison Hill, in Yuma, Arizona. Photo by Lucy Valencia

Border Patrol Agents Seize More Than $1 Million Worth of Pot

More than a ton of marijuana, worth an estimated $1,086,500, was seized by Border Patrol after an off-duty agent called in a tip, officials said in a news release.

The off-duty border patrol agent saw suspicious bundles being loaded into a Chevrolet suburban near State Route 86. According to the news release, he called into work and gave the tip. Air surveillance confirmed the agent’s suspicions.

Border Patrol agents arrived at found 2,173 pounds of marijuana wrapped in 88 individual bundles near the suburban, officials said in a press release. An ATV was also at the scene.

Photo courtesy of Customs and Border Protection

Agents searched the area, but did not find a suspect.

The suburban had been reported stolen and was turned over to the Tohono O’odham Police Department. The mariuana was turned over to the Drug Enforcement Administration, where according to Public Affairs Officer Brent Cagen, they destroy the drug by incineration.

Real Arizona Coalition: Urging for Immigration Reform

Arizona’s anti-immigration sparked a super-heated debate around the same time that the U.S. recession hit its peak.

Some have even argued that Arizona seems, well, unwelcoming to immigrants and diversity.

Today, a multi-cultural and multi-political force is gathering to change Arizona’s image to a more economically-promising one.

The Real Arizona Coalition (RAC)–co-founded by Denise Resnik, James Garcia and Lisa Ulias in the wake of the passing of S.B. 1070–aims to shift the attitude of Arizona’s immigration reform policies to one based on facts rather than super-heated politics, extremist points of views and emotional attachments.

It is currently composed of nearly 40 businesses, organizations, political leaders, and faith-based leadership groups in Arizona that are hoping to advance immigration reform at a federal level.

*For a complete list of all those who have joined the coalition, click here.

Foes and supporters can agree that in the past few years, Arizona lawmakers have passed some of the toughest measures in the country against illegal immigrants. Arizona has become unique in its stringency and harshness in regards to anti-immigration legislation. Some feel that legislations such as S.B. 1070  are necessary, while others feel that the state has gone too far.

“When undocumented workers are taken out of the economy, the jobs they support through their labor, consumption, and tax payments disappear as well,” said a report by the Center for American Progress and Immigration Policy Center.

The report, which was put together by Raul Hinojosa-Ojed and Marshall Fitz through the Immigration Policy Center, argued that illegal immigrations stimulate the economy.

“These workers are not only producing important goods and services but also earning money that they spend in the state and contribute to economic growth and job creation that way. And the pre-tax earnings of immigrant workers in Arizona were significant–almost $30 for all immigrant workers and $15 billion for undocumented immigrant workers.”

Those at the Real Arizona Coalition agree. Garcia said the coalition wants to move the debate of anti-immigration from being so focused around Arizona and have it dealt with at the federal level.

“Every state cannot divise its own immgiraiton policy if we are dealing with the question of how to deal with people who come from outside of this country,” Garcia said. “That’s a question that 50 different states cannot answer and deal with in 50 different manners.”

The Real Arizona Coalition wants to be inclusive of diversity in order to stimulate the economy. They also believe Arizona is not the platform where these fiery issues should be handled. The White House and Congress are where immigration laws should be carefully questioned.

“Our solution for mitigating the damage to our state’s reputation is leadership,” said Wendell Long in a press release. He is a board member of the Tucson Metropolitan Chamber of Commerce.

The Real Arizona Coalition aims to change the image the state has as the most heated place for immigration issues and policies. It was put together over the past 21 months and strives to give the citizens of Arizona factual information.

“We are optimistic that the state, its leadership and its policy makers are starting to see light and move the state into a different direction,” said Garcia.

“We are on the road to rebuilding the state’s reputation and moving ahead knowing that this is a community that can and will be respectful of all of its diversity,” he added.

“We have a long ways to go, but we are definitely moving in the right direction.”

Coming to America

The 1,954-mile border that the United States shares with Mexico is one that many migrants try to cross for a hope to a better life. Yet for  Mexican migrants who try to come to America illegally and get deported, the border fence is where the American Dream and its endless possibilities die.

When is it okay for a government to kick out people who have been living here legally and what are the outcomes? How much should we care about those who are caught and sent back, if they were illegal in the first place? When does deportation cause more harm to a person’s safety?

This semester, I want to explore and unveil the stories and issues that are effected by the crimes and public safety issues that exist a long the border. Not just the drug cartels, deaths and bloody massacres that are happening in Mexican states that are crime-ridden. We’ll get to that too. But I want to bring you, readers, to come to know the faces of those who are deported and sent home, as well as the struggle they go through physically and mentally. I want to tell you the real numbers and statistics. I want you to see how two different countries and their laws and government can affect one human’s situation.

I want to report on this is because border and immigration was not something I thought I cared about growing up. Now I won’t give up on it.

I grew up partially in San Diego, California, and partially in Yuma, Arizona–both of which are near the Mexican border. My father holds an Alien Registration card that allows him to legally live and work in the U.S., though he is not an American citizen. My mother has a dual citizenship after legally moving to America when she was in high school. Neither of my parents finished college. Neither speak fluent English.

I am a 21-year-old college senior with a journalism major that revolves around the English language. I graduated at the top of my class from a primarily white, Catholic high school with a 4.0 GPA. I was a varsity cheerleader, student body president, executive president of National Honors Society, a full-time volunteer, and was extremely involved in my church and school. I was accepted to many prestigious universities my senior year before I realized my parents’ cultural and language barrier would leave me on my own to get through it.

In my coffee-colored skin, I felt equally as American as my classmates until I began taking notice of the controversial illegal immigration issues that became so fiery while I was in my first few years of college. I met people who supported Sheriff Joe Arpaio’s bills. I met people who absolutely felt enraged about illegal immigration and hated Mexicans. I heard people saying there was a lack for human rights and compassion in immigration rights.

I saw my parents, both of Mexican descent, run a binational business that flourished into an industrial company and turn down job applicants because they did not have papers even though they couldn’t feed their families.

I understand that the opinions and attitudes on illegal immigration have a million different factors playing into each person’s stance, and I am not endorsing any particular belief. I know that we live in a region that is the boiling melting pot of the entire immigration issue. I hope to bring all of these views together through my reporting only to shed light on them. But I do hope you know, openly, where I come from and why I think it is important.

Last year, the U.S. deported a record number of immigrants. Almost 400,000 people who were in the country illegally were arrested and sent back to their home countries.

The vast majority were Mexicans, and many were released into dangerous cities on the other side of the border. These “drop-off” cities are struggling to deal with the masses of deportees who arrive each month and are vulnerable to the threats of drug gangs and corrupt officials.

Lately the deportations are happening every day. Some days, as many as 100 or 120 are released by U.S. immigration officials. For some of them, this is their first taste of freedom after serving lengthy criminal sentences in the U.S. Others were picked up for drunk driving or traffic offenses.

This week, I’ll be writing a recap on the statistics and numbers that specifically in the Arizona/Sonora border. I’ve spoken with journalists, border patrol agents and police officers and what they think the biggest safety issues are. Tune in on Wednesday to hear more!

Welcome to my Border Beat Blog!

My name is Lucy Valencia. I’m a 21-year-old journalism senior at the University of Arizona. I split my year living between San Diego, California, and Tucson, Arizona, or usually somewhere in between.

I am also a new student in Jay Rochlin’s Border Beat class, an online publication that covers U.S. Mexico border people, issues, and ideas and produce two issues of ‘El Independiente,’ the school’s bilingual newspaper.

I hope to cover public safety issues along the border and will fill you guys in on everything I report on via this blog, so keep checking back! And thanks for bearing with me enough to read any of my writing at all.

You can follow me on Twitter or subscribe to me on Facebook for the most recent updates of my reporting.