These Immigrant Kids Will Make America Great!

I have heard many commented on the fact that the parents who travel with their kids on the journey to cross the border or worst allow their kids to cross the border with someone else, that these parents are criminals. Before you judge, have you ever had to look at your child and not knowing what you would feed them? Have you ever looked at your child knowing that some gang or militia members (in some cases sanctioned by your own government) could come in with heavy weapons and harm that child in front of your eyes? 

 The love of a mother or father can push them to great length to provide food or safety for their kids. Here is a touching story that I heard on the radio many years ago.

 During the time of the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia, some soldiers came to a house and asked the father (deemed to be an intellectual) of a girl around eight years old to follow them. The father was never seen again. About a week later, the mother after feeding the children told them to leave. She told them that she could no longer feed them and that they had to leave the village and go as far as they could. The young girl cried and did not want to leave her mom. The mom stoically told this 8-year old child very sternly that she had to leave. It turns out that it was common practice for the Khmer Rouge to come back to kill the rest of the family. So, the mother by pushing her kids away was only protecting them. It was love that made her kicked her kids out of their own house. By the way, this story was turned into a memoir and that 8-year old girl eventually somehow made it to America. (If you know the title of the memoir, please inbox me). The mom is presumed to have died with the youngest of the siblings (a toddler) that she kept with her.

 As a father, I’m glad that I’ve never been in a position to watch my kids and not knowing what I was going to feed them for their next meal. However, unfortunately, I have witnessed it in the eyes of other parents including my mother. It is said that one of the stages of getting one’s identity is the first time we realize that “something is wrong” or that “we don’t belong.” For me, the first time I realized that “something was wrong” was when I realized that my mom had no clue where my next meal was going to come from. As a child, I remember often asking mom “what I was going to eat for dinner while eating breakfast” and my mom would always tell me something like “Eat what’s in your plate now, we will worry about dinner later.” One day, it just clicked for me. I looked into my mother’s eyes, and I realized the poor woman had no clue where the next meal was coming from. By the way, for those who know me, for a long time, this is what drove me in life. I did not want to be like my parents and not being able to provide for my children. At least, that’s the tape I decided to play in my head at least until my late 30’s. My response to the world was to tell myself that I could only believe in myself. Eventually, one day I had an aha moment, it clicked and I realized that if my mom was able to provide for us every day without finishing junior high, having graduated from college and being in the greatest country in the World (yea, I believe that when it comes to opportunities) I didn’t have to worry. I would surely find a way. I thank God for this epiphany. Otherwise, I would still be driven by a 6-year-old who did not want to be like his parents.

 Yes, I can understand why a mother or father would take their kids and trek a long journey (in some cases more than 2,000 miles) in the quest for a better life. This selfless act is actually, a rational and loving decision. Stay, you or your child will starve of hunger with 100% probability; take your chances to go to America with them or even let them go on their own with a smuggler (coyote), and at least they have a better chance to survive. This is where love kicks in. When you send these kids on their own, as a parent you know you will not be able to have the memories of watching them grow; there is even the real possibility that they might forget you or might reject you as their parent. Of course, this is heartbreaking for any parent. That has to be balanced with these children surviving and then having the chance to create a better future for themselves.

 So, why should we as Americans care? After all, we have our problems. The reality is that it is those immigrants that have gone through all kinds of perils to make it to America that have built the Great USA that we celebrate on July 4th (whether it’s Europeans crossing the Atlantic Ocean by boat or Chinese coming via the Pacific Ocean or those going through the Mexican border right now). Some of these kids and their parents will be traumatized by their experience. Others will rise up to the occasion and this perilous journey that didn’t kill them will make them even stronger. It is classic fight or flight. I do not doubt that some of these immigrants will become top artists, scientists or business leaders. The contribution of a minority of these immigrants say the 5% or even 1% will more than make up for any resources that we devote to the entire cohort (of immigrants).

 These immigrants at the Mexican border are part of the cohort of immigrants that will continue to make America great just like previous generations of immigrants before them.