It may surprise red-white-and-blue Americans fixated on preventing the Hispanic reconquista of the Anglo Norte, but many of the folks they howl most about agree with them. They don’t want to come to America any more than these Americans want to let them in.
During Mass each Wednesday at Casa Juan Diego in Houston, immigrants speak of not eating for days, having nothing to drink for a week, seeing people die of thirst or because they drank irrigation water with chemicals in it.
In the colonial period the destitute and desperate escaping the poverty of European backwaters made their way to America as indentured servants, signing away the only commodity they had to offer: themselves. Frequently used up to the end of human endurance by their "employers," these earliest members of America's working class experienced a dehumanization that was only exceeded by the treatment of Africans brought over as slaves.
She is fighting to regain her composure and she is losing. Her narrative halts in midsentence, stalled in a sob, and Lourdes Solorzano's previously calm, confident face disintegrates into a portrait of plain heartache. Her red T-shirt is rhinestoned with the American flag, and she raises it over her mouth in an awkward, embarrassed effort to hide her pain.
Although born in Los Angeles, Bishop Jaime Soto has been stopped several times at airport security. During one such occasion the officer did not want to believe that he was a bishop until he opened his briefcase. He was carrying a Bible and a bottle of whiskey.
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