meeting the mexico/us border for the first time

“You can tell me about the politics of Latin America,

but you don’t know what’s happening at your own border.”

– Activist from Colombia

The School of the Americas Watch Protest has become my activist family reunion. For the last five years, I’ve marched with many of the same people from organizations I trust and love. This year we converged on the Mexico/US border in Nogales. This choice, in my opinion, was politically necessary. With the fascist rhetoric of anti-immigration, mostly about those from the global South, it seems only appropriate at this time to show our solidarity. And it’s true, overall, I don’t know much about the border, so when the Colombian activist spoke the words above, it struck me. One weekend in Arizona is not going to give me the full story about the militarization at the Border or the use of drones or the great work of solidarity by churches to those crossing the desert. I have much more to read, experience, and stories to listen to.

Throughout the weekend, as usual, much creativity was on display: from the puppetistas to the Peace Poets to the noise demonstration outside the ICE Detention Center. I decided then I didn’t want to only write a reflection, but a song.

“Meeting the Border for the first time”

I went to Arizona not knowing what to expect
No, me and the Southwest, we’ve never met

I heard stories of torture
in Detention Centers
Where people are caged
and the law is dismembered

Make some noise, Eloy*
Make some noise, Eloy

I went to Arizona not knowing what to expect
No, me and the Southwest, we’ve never met

I heard a boy was shot
after throwing some rocks
He was killed through the fence,
16 years old

Presente, Jose Antonio**
Presente, Jose
Presente, desert hopefuls
Presente, refugee

I went to Arizona not knowing what to expect
No, me and the Southwest, we’ve never met

I witnessed a wall in Nogales
It was tall, strong, and rusted
Why do we separate people?
Was this part of God’s plan?

Tear the wall down, Oh God
End the babel, Holy One
Open our homes, Holy Refugee
Give us courage to love

I went to Arizona not knowing what to expect
No, me and the Southwest, we’ve never met
But I’ll be back.