Journal 4

 For the first time in my life I participated in a protest. It was the women’s march protesting against the Muslim ban, and the immigration regulations. It was really powerful to be part of it, marching, chanting and singing. If you know me, you know my memory is terrible and indeed I probably won’t be able to tell you what were the chats or songs said, but I can tell you what I felt and the thoughts I had.

At the beginning I was nervous, and I was not sure what was the drill, I just knew there was going to be a signal were people that was planning get arrested were going to sit down, and I knew I would have to getting ready to leave. There were cameras, microphones, policemen, all woman and men wearing white, and there were good speakers. It was a legit march. One of the speakers was an immigrant who run away from his country in Latin American because a gang had dead treated him, and since they have already murder his brother, he feared his life. He flew away from violence and fear, and then his wife and daughter followed him up. However, they were detained in U.S.A., besides the struggle to find them and even been able to hear anything from them, he found out how they were treated. Plus, as you all probably already know how immigrants are being treated, how they are suffering family separation and they spaces they are at are like a modernized concentration camps. I am not going to give you a whole report of the news, but I am going to tell what is burdening my heart.

I have double nationality, I was born in El Paso, Texas, but raised in Ciudad Juarez. I consider myself more Mexican than America but I love both countries deeply. And the time I have been here all the things I have been learning here about politics, systems, laws, regulations and so on, have also raised questions on how is all that in Mexico. For a lot of them I don’t even have an answers, and for some the answers hurt my heart. I felt the immigrant story, I heard so many stories like that were people migrate to another part to feel safe. In fact, the city where I grew up was considered the most dangerous city in the world for a couple of years. I remember the violence started when I was in middle school and my parents thought about sending me south in the country where was safer because they were scared for my life. So yes, I know what is it like to be scared, to not know if my parents will be coming home at the end of the day, and even now I lived the scars of those violent years. I cannot even imagine what immigrants go through emotionally, because they leave everything behind from belonging, friends, and even family. So, pardon me, but I don’t understand how a government can treat families that gone through a lot with more burden and atrocities.  The worst things of all these is that these kids and people are innocent, they have not done anything wrong, they are just living the consequences of bad governments. And through the women’s march I realize I wasn’t frustrated/mad/sad only with U.S.A but also with the other American countries. How the government does not care that its own people are fleeing away from their natal country because of the violence? How they can turn a blind eye to the violence of their land? The hardest part of these answers is that most of these problems come from corruption. Governments making deals with cartels based on money. It makes my stomach sick see the consequence of governments walking over its people, and even worst how the people cannot stand against the system. I was so proud and happy to be part of the march, but at the same time I was so jealous and conflicted it that a peaceful march is not doable in my country. At the end of the women’s march, more than 500 people got arrested, and it was smooth. Do you know how violent a march can turn in American countries? Do you know what it feels like to not trust the police or authorities? Do you know the fear that if they detained you, you risk being abused? Do you know what is like to feel helpless? Yes, I do. 

I was marching feeling proud, asking and singing for justice. But I couldn’t help but wonder that if we are truly demanding justice, the root of the problem of immigration is the country from where they fleeing off. And unfortunately or fortunately I am part of one of the countries where the problems comes from, and I want to do something about it. I do not know what yet, but on my time here I want to learn as much as I can about mobilizing, past movements, and actions to change a government. I don’t know what is going to happen I just know there is so much to do.

Raquel Resendiz

Blog Post 4

7/1/2018