Does the how and why of foreigners’ immigration to the United States shape their views on immigration policy? While Hispanic groups have reacted ferociously and spoken out loudly against Arizona’s new xenophobic immigration laws, I have not heard anything from other associations that represent West Indian, Asian and African groups. My social and familial circle, which includes a large proportion of immigrants, has been mute on the topic.
I suspect this is because foreign-born residents do not see themselves as part of a collective group. Jamaicans who move to the United States for all kinds of reasons – from a sense of elitism, to the desire for better economic circumstances – view themselves as different from Haitians who risk life and limb in patched boats to Florida to escape their country’s social and economic instability. Asians who are wooed to the United States for technical and industrial jobs view themselves as different from Mexicans who cross the border to take menial jobs in meat packing plants and on fruit farms.
Surely, the legal status of the groups has something to do with the perceptions, but it also has to do with choice: which group chooses to move to the United States, and which group, in large part, is forced to come because of political violence, a bad economy, or other poor conditions in their home country. People who choose to move to the United States are usually of better economic circumstances – before and after they move. They are not typically the faces you see on television in ICE raids, or as the faces of the needy; and if they overstay their visas or have other immigration problems, they can usually afford legal representation.
Racial prejudices are also an undeniable part of the immigration equation. Cubans who arrive on the Florida shores the same way Haitians do have an easier time of settling and assimilating because they look like the majority of politicians, decision-makers, police officers, and others in positions of power. Similarly, no one ever thinks of white Europeans as immigrants and they are never the face of immigration woes.
As a society, we – including foreign-born residents – have decided that some immigrants are tolerable and others are not. Arizona’s law is a great example of how policy decisions are made on factors that have little to do with border protection, and more to do with keeping specific people out. Consider: a white British male and a Hispanic male, both walking down the street in Arizona; of which of these is a police officer likely to have a “reasonable suspicion” of illegal immigration status? On what basis do you think the officer would make that determination?
American-born Blacks are keen to the threats the Arizona laws represent to civil liberties, and have joined Hispanic groups in decrying them. Where are the rest of us “other people?” While we may not see ourselves as all in the same boat, surely we are not naïve enough to think that the non-brown, non-foreign language speaking ones among us are exempt from a growing anti-immigration sentiment. For many Americans, the gates that were once flung open to the tired and poor huddled masses yearning to be free should now be closed to preserve jobs, ease the strain on social services and protect the English language – it doesn’t matter how or why you got here.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Big footprints splash oil
They talk about preservation so certainly they care; but mansion walls and floors are decorated with the body parts of endangered animals. They talk about conservation so surely they recognize its importance; but it is so much work to unplug televisions, desktops, laptops, chargers and coffee makers after every use. They talk about new energy sources, so undoubtedly they see the need; but wind turbines spoil ocean views and endanger little birds.
As a gunky oil slick larger than the island of Jamaica slimes its way across the Louisiana/Alabama/Florida coastline, everyone watches in horror. There is a disconnect between the heartbreak at the environmental ruin and the country’s insatiable oil appetite. Species of animals have died out in this generation and everyone thinks they are doing their part if they give money to a telethon fundraiser or pay for a membership at their city zoo.
Residents of the land of the free have taken that all too literally. Nothing is really free, none of us are free from our obligations to the planet, and we will certainly not be free of the harsh environmental consequences of our behaviors.
‘They’ must become ‘we.’ Talk must be replaced with active commitment to reducing our energy consumption. We must shun companies with poor environmental records and reward those utilizing innovative solutions to environmental concerns. We must buy food that is grown and produced in the most responsible ways. We must not underestimate the role we each have to play, and must become aware of everything we each can do to lessen our footprint on the earth.
As a gunky oil slick larger than the island of Jamaica slimes its way across the Louisiana/Alabama/Florida coastline, everyone watches in horror. There is a disconnect between the heartbreak at the environmental ruin and the country’s insatiable oil appetite. Species of animals have died out in this generation and everyone thinks they are doing their part if they give money to a telethon fundraiser or pay for a membership at their city zoo.
Residents of the land of the free have taken that all too literally. Nothing is really free, none of us are free from our obligations to the planet, and we will certainly not be free of the harsh environmental consequences of our behaviors.
‘They’ must become ‘we.’ Talk must be replaced with active commitment to reducing our energy consumption. We must shun companies with poor environmental records and reward those utilizing innovative solutions to environmental concerns. We must buy food that is grown and produced in the most responsible ways. We must not underestimate the role we each have to play, and must become aware of everything we each can do to lessen our footprint on the earth.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Jamaica, a lost cause?
Recently I got a history and current affairs lesson and update on the happenings surrounding Christopher 'Dudus' Coke, who many Jamaicans believe is holding the country hostage, with the help of the JLP government. Cliff Notes version: Coke is wanted by the United States government on drug charges. The Jamaican government has refused to hand him over on the grounds that the evidence against Coke was illegally attained.
I have maintained my position in every conversation I have had on this issue that Jamaica, as a sovereign nation, has the right to demand its laws be followed and refuse extradition of a citizen if they are not. No one disagrees with me on principal, but mistrust of Jamaica's government runs so deep that there is a prevailing certainty that the refusal to extradite has very little to do with asserting state sovereignty or legalities. Stories about pay-offs, black-mail and political party loyalties are rampant and people are largely resentful of the JLP administration's actions on the matter - especially now that the U.S. seems to be retaliating by revoking visas from and refusing to give visas to prominent Jamaican business people and entertainers.
The chocking hold that decades of corruption have had on the country has just about squeezed the last breath of trust and hope from Jamaicans. We tell our children "there is no such thing as can't." We want them to face every obstacle with an attitude of confidence and determination, but we all accept that there are things we cannot do. There are many things we do not feel confident we can change. There are some things that make us feel hopeless and resigned. Many Jamaicans - on the island and living abroad - think of their country with that resignation and heart ache. With a spiraling economy, decreasing access to good and affordable healthcare, and an ever-worsening crime problem I am hard-pressed to find a Jamaican resident who is not seriously thinking about leaving, or a Jamaican living abroad who is not firmly decided never to return for more than a few days at a time.
The Dudus affair is only the most recent layer of icing on the cake however, and Jamaica's problems do not rest squarely on the shoulders of the government. The country's decline has been steady and apparent to all of us. The beginning was clear in the erosion of simple courtesies and respect for self and others. Jamaicans joke as much as complain about the lack of customer service in stores and government agencies. We have come to accept dishonesty and outstretched hands from everyone from our garbage men to our government representatives. We have taken on coarse language, the disrespect of women, and calls for violence as part of our musical culture. Those of us who know better are willing to rely on, even call for, censorship, because we do not trust the masses to reject the tasteless foolishness. Those who live in Jamaica lock their grills, cross their fingers and hope for the best against crime and violence. Jamaicans living abroad know to dig deep for the thickest version of our accents and try to blend in as much as possible when we visit lest we are harassed or worse. Jobs, particularly for the college-educated, are hard to find and prices on basic necessities make them beyond the reach of many.
Criticisms, indictments and laments do no more for progress than calling in to one of Jamaican's daytime radio shows however, so what should be done? Is there any hope for progress and positive change in Jamaica? How should that change begin? Who bears the responsibility for sparking the change needed?
I have maintained my position in every conversation I have had on this issue that Jamaica, as a sovereign nation, has the right to demand its laws be followed and refuse extradition of a citizen if they are not. No one disagrees with me on principal, but mistrust of Jamaica's government runs so deep that there is a prevailing certainty that the refusal to extradite has very little to do with asserting state sovereignty or legalities. Stories about pay-offs, black-mail and political party loyalties are rampant and people are largely resentful of the JLP administration's actions on the matter - especially now that the U.S. seems to be retaliating by revoking visas from and refusing to give visas to prominent Jamaican business people and entertainers.
The chocking hold that decades of corruption have had on the country has just about squeezed the last breath of trust and hope from Jamaicans. We tell our children "there is no such thing as can't." We want them to face every obstacle with an attitude of confidence and determination, but we all accept that there are things we cannot do. There are many things we do not feel confident we can change. There are some things that make us feel hopeless and resigned. Many Jamaicans - on the island and living abroad - think of their country with that resignation and heart ache. With a spiraling economy, decreasing access to good and affordable healthcare, and an ever-worsening crime problem I am hard-pressed to find a Jamaican resident who is not seriously thinking about leaving, or a Jamaican living abroad who is not firmly decided never to return for more than a few days at a time.
The Dudus affair is only the most recent layer of icing on the cake however, and Jamaica's problems do not rest squarely on the shoulders of the government. The country's decline has been steady and apparent to all of us. The beginning was clear in the erosion of simple courtesies and respect for self and others. Jamaicans joke as much as complain about the lack of customer service in stores and government agencies. We have come to accept dishonesty and outstretched hands from everyone from our garbage men to our government representatives. We have taken on coarse language, the disrespect of women, and calls for violence as part of our musical culture. Those of us who know better are willing to rely on, even call for, censorship, because we do not trust the masses to reject the tasteless foolishness. Those who live in Jamaica lock their grills, cross their fingers and hope for the best against crime and violence. Jamaicans living abroad know to dig deep for the thickest version of our accents and try to blend in as much as possible when we visit lest we are harassed or worse. Jobs, particularly for the college-educated, are hard to find and prices on basic necessities make them beyond the reach of many.
Criticisms, indictments and laments do no more for progress than calling in to one of Jamaican's daytime radio shows however, so what should be done? Is there any hope for progress and positive change in Jamaica? How should that change begin? Who bears the responsibility for sparking the change needed?
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