OPINION: Reader View: Behind the statistics, a child with a story
Santa Fe New Mexican
By: Laura Martin
August 4, 2014
“Siéntese por favor,” I say to a young man as I gesture to a low couch. He sits down while adjusting his flat-brimmed snap back that matches the exact shade of red on his shirt and high-top sneakers. This kid has what my peers would call a “fresh” sense of style. And yet for his outward confidence, I can tell he’s nervous. The lawyer I work for walks into the room and after an exchange of “mucho gusto,” she closes the door to the small office.
For the next two hours, the lawyer and I interview this young man, who is one of the thousands of unaccompanied minors who have crossed into the U.S. I consider it a privilege to help conduct these interviews, as they put a face and personality to the sensationalist headlines that are splashing across our newspapers and social media feeds. The young man sitting before me is not a statistic but rather an individual whose suffering has caused him to leave his Central American home and seek refuge in the U.S.
For the past eight weeks, I have been interning at a law firm that provides legal services for low-income residents of the Boston area. During this time, I have conducted more than 70 interviews in Spanish, both over the phone and in person. My job is to assess whether the children who contact our firm qualify for legal protection that would allow them to remain in the U.S.
For these refugee children, the legal options for protection are extremely limited. Some minors may qualify for special protection if they have been abused, abandoned or neglected by their families. Others may be eligible for asylum. To begin the assessment, these young people must share their experiences of hunger, alcoholism, beatings, molestation, rape, loneliness and other difficulties they have endured. I cannot imagine the strength it takes to tell these horror stories to a stranger such as myself, but it is a necessary first step for a child to obtain protection. Yet in spite of all a child has suffered, it is still difficult to prove that he or she qualifies.
What is easy to forget when we are reading the data and statistics about the unaccompanied children crossing our borders is that each has a unique history that has forced him or her to flee to the United States. Yes, there are economic, political, and social circumstances that have contributed to this humanitarian crisis, but they are experienced on such a personal level that it is hard to lump the terrors witnessed by these children into a general category.
The real tragedy is that these kids have to experience such terrible circumstances to qualify for protection. Economic hardship and generalized fear of returning to Central America are not convincing legal arguments. Many kids stop going to school around sixth grade to help provide for their families by working on farms. Others stop because they are targeted by gangs on their commutes to and from school. However, if a child cannot prove that he or she was personally attacked or targeted, the child may not have a substantive argument for legal protection.
Even for children who do qualify for protection, the struggle is not over. All have to deal with the challenge of going to school, learning a new language and adjusting to a new culture. Many have to work part- or full-time jobs in addition to going to school to help support themselves. But for many, these stresses are negligible compared to the terrors they experienced back home. After recounting his experience in Central America and his perilous journey to the U.S., I ask the young man in red who is sitting in front of me if he’s happy to be in the U.S. For the first time in two hours, he smiles and says, “Sí, estoy feliz.”
Laura Martin is from Nambé and graduated from Santa Fe Preparatory School in 2006. She is currently pursuing a Master of Divinity degree from Harvard Divinity School in Cambridge, Mass.