Our cups runneth over

You know here in the United States our cups runneth over. It is really hard to forget how well we are doing when we are constantly inundated with the "reality" T.V. of Paris Hilton and MTV Cribs, but we are really doing pretty well for ourselves. Of course there is poverty in the United States, but not the same poverty that you see in other parts of the world.

In Brazil, people speak of the difference between pobreza and miseria. Pobreza is poverty. Miseria is complete and utter deprivation. We have pobreza. Too much of the world has miseria. In today's online New York Times there is a multi-media presentation by journalist Nicholas D. Kristof. He traveled to Swaziland in Africa to cover the devastation of the A.I.D.S. epidemic there. Swaziland was never what you'd call a rich country, but now fully 40% of the adult population is infected with the virus that causes A.I.D.S. He profiles several families now headed or soon to be headed by children, because all the adult members of the families have one by one died off, victims of this horrible disease.

These kids, eleven or twelve years old, living in mud huts, students in the 5th grade, have nursed dying parents, grandparents and aunts and now are the heads of households, caring for their younger brothers and sisters as best they can. They eat one meal a day at school. They have one tattered set of clothes. They have no shoes. They have faced cruel death after cruel death. They are "parents". They are 12. They are many.

In contrast, I read an article yesterday in the June 2006 issue of Texas Monthly called "The Gangtas of Godwin Park" about a wealthy teenager in Houston who in "a tragic tale of drugs, money, race, and MySpace" was gunned down in a prescription drug deal gone wrong. It is a cautionary tale for the rich kids I teach here in Austin, who escape the pressures of their expectations with drug use and risky behaviors and for the poor kids I teach here in Austin who must walk the halls next to kids whose lifestyles look to them too much like those depicted on MTV's My Super Sweet Sixteen and who want a piece of it. One of the kids now doing time for the death of the wealthy dealer is a poor kid who used to work at McDonald's but fell into a crowd who talked him out of getting it the "slow way" and into getting it the "fast way". Like the child-parents in the New York Times piece, this young man, Dontae Terrell Moore, had helped care for younger relatives at his aunt's crowded rented home not far from where the wealthy victim, Jonathan Finkelman, lived.

By all accounts, Dontae lived in pobreza, not in miseria, but living so close to the very wealthy and being exposed to a steady media diet of the obscenely rich, took its toll on basically a good kid. Jonathan was equally swept up in the weird psychological mix of high academic and social expectations, entitlement, youthful invulnerability and thrill seeking that is pressed on kids these days. They are emotionally immature and sheltered by their parents, but have access to a very fast lifestyle while being pressured to perform. I see it everyday. It leads to acting out at school, cheating on tests, drug and alcohol abuse and risky sexual behaviors. And too many parents are blind to what their "good kids" are doing. Most survive somehow. Some end up like Jonathan.

People should pay more attention to this cautionary tale and should look very closely at what their kids are up to. Problems are not always with "other people's children". People should also look very closely at the stories of the parentless families in Africa, the bleak lives of those in the northern Brazil, those displaced refugees living in torn tents all over the world, the isolated Pakistanis who froze in the mountain winter after last year's earthquake--all the people who live not in pobreza but in miseria. If we could only stop comparing ourselves to the miniscule number of Paris Hiltons and Kayne Wests in the world and take more frequent notice of the hundreds of millions of human beings struggling to maintain some dignity for themselves and their families with no food and no change of clothes and death at their door, we would see that our cup runneth over.

Of course, we should continue to push forward, to strive for a better life. It is part of the human spirit, but we should do it with a level of gratitude that fills us up rather than a jealousy that empties our souls.

English the National Language?

It passed in the Senate. But why? Was English in danger? No. I'll bet most people didn't even know that we didn't have a national language. Well, back when we were forming this country and drafting a Constitution it was decided by our wise founding fathers not to have one. First of all, we had just broken away from those taxing imperalists, the English, remember? German was bounced around as an alternative, but cooler heads prevailed. After all, whether or not our founding fathers had studied linguistics, they intrinsically understood that we would speak whatever worked for us--without even symbolically excluding anyone who spoke another native tongue.

What works for us is English. Immigrants learn English--even Spanish-speaking immigrants. In three generations the home-country language dies in any family here unless the latest generation studies the language in school. We have a great, big Spanish-speaking neighbor. Our neighborhood, our hemisphere, is crowded with Spanish-speaking countries, where, by the way, it seems anyone with a little extra cash pays for an English course. Why? Because English is not in danger.

Not only does the rich neighbor, the United States, speak English, but English has become the lingua-franca of the world. Business is conducted all over the world in English. English is the official language of air traffic controlers the world over. It is widely recognized that immigrants must learn English to integrate into the United States, and learning English will benefit them even if they return to their homeland. As a teacher in a public school, I see kids learning English. No, they don't learn it over night. Yes, in their initial years in the U.S. they feel more comfortable with those who speak their home language. Of course they do. They are in a strange place. But they learn English.

So here we are in 2006, trying to make English the official national language of the United States. For more than 200 years we have just let people figure out that English was the language to speak to get things done, to do business in this country. For more than 200 years we made no official, national moves, to intimidate anyone into learning English. We didn't officially rank English above anyone's native tongue on a national scale. So why now? My husband says racism. I can't come up with another answer that makes much sense.

The President Weighs In

Bold. Middle of the road. Too soft. The commentators were all rushing to label Bush's views on the immigration issue and his speech that he delivered on Monday night. I don't think it was any of those things, but I do think it was important and about time. National Guard on the border. Well, it makes me a little queasy on too many levels to name--let's just say I am not a big fan of that idea, but beyond that--not bad, Mr. President. And can I just say that I generally refer to him as a limp-brained, monosyllabic moron.

This issue is really important and it is not going away and it is not one-dimensional. And the president has acknowledged all of these things. And he did it from the Oval Office. This was the first time in his presidency that he has addressed the American public on a domestic issue from the Oval Office. It underscores the complexity and the urgency of this matter, and even with his dimishing poll numbers, with the moderate Republican Senators already on board with immigration reform, this may provide enough momentum for some remotely comprehensive bill to make it through both houses of Congress. I can only hope it does. And, though, I never thought I would actually be saying this, Thank you, Mr. Bush.

Checking back in

Wow. It has been two weeks since I last posted. I think I have been too overwelmed to focus in on one particular subject and compose a piece. Luckily, I am almost at the end of the school year, and that means that means freedom and time to think. On May 31st, I will leave for Spain with some of my students, and that is always good for my spirit and my inspiration. It recharges me. It reminds me who I am, why I teach, why I love language and culture, how cool it can be to just talk to and listen to kids, how you can meet new friends in the strangest places, how slowing down to enjoy a meal is civilized, how old and new together is beautiful, and how lucky I am.

Somehow, being at school day in and day out, beats so much out of me. There are so many competing demands and so many self-absorbed, self-important people to contend with, both students and faculty. One day, I will be free of that, too, and find a way to contribute to kids lives and expand their worlds outside of the confines of the school. I dream of it and slowly I am planning my escape...

Immigration: Where do I really come down?

For a while I have been talking about immigration and in support of many illegal immigrants, but do I believe that anything goes? What are my non-negotiables? What do I concede to the right? Do I have anything in common with Lou Dobbs? Well, I do receive his updates!

Let's start at the beginning. I have been working directly with immigrant students in one way or another off and on since I was in high school and I have counted some of them as my best friends. I have been to their homes, met their families, know their struggles. Many have been here legally. Many have not. Some have come legally as students and then searched for ways to stay. Of course, even before I worked with and befriended immigrants, I was and still am a patriotic American who stands when the flag passes during the 4th of July parades, and anyone who knows me will tell you that I am one of those goodie two shoes who does what's right and tries to follow the rules. I tell the cashier when she has given me too much change. I believe in rules. I also believe in hard work, efficiency, justice and goodwill.

I have known many law-abiding, hard-working honest people who have been treated rudely and capriciously in U.S. embassies and consulates in Brazil when applying for visas. I know of people who would just like to come back and forth to the U.S., but are afraid they'll be denied a visa the next time on the whim of some consular clerk, so they decide they are better off staying. I know of hard-working honest people who have been jumping through hoops, taking off days from work and wading through mazes of paper work for years only to have something lost by our government and then told they were out of compliance. I have known wealthy, lazy, well-connected foreigners whose parents can pay for expensive undergraduate degrees in our nation's top universities who partied through college sniffing coke in the VIP rooms of the best dance clubs whose dads got them set up with some internship or job after graduation and can come and go at will from our country.

This country's whole immigration policy is a disgrace. The bureaucracy approaches and often surpasses the inefficiency of the third world government institutions with which I have had contact. Many people talk about coming here legally--in this day and age, for most perspective immigrants that is far more easily said than done.

Our borders? Porous at best. Our messages--mixed. Don't sneak in, but once you do, there is plenty of work and realistically, the government is going to turn a blind eye on those who employ you. Don't ask. Don't tell. What we don't know won't hurt us. We don't really want to make new homes more expensive or price lettuce out of the grocery budgets of the middle class, so we'll use the illegals as a tool against inflation.

In the last few weeks we have seen some crack-downs on major employers of illegals, in what we are assured is coincidental timing. How many years did it take for these companies to accumulate so many illegal workers?

In the meantime, who the hell is here with the honest, hard-working families, a few terrorists? Who knows? What a mess.

• We need to enforce the borders--really.
• We need to know who is here.
• We need to stream-line the legal path to immigration.
• We need the legal process for both short and long-term visas to be transparent and fair.
• We need to wake-up to the fact that there are too many people here already to round up and deport en masse.
• We need to acknowledge the contribution that many of the illegals have made.
• We need to accept those who have been peaceably working or studying for a long period of time in this country and give them a chance to truly assimilate and be a full part of the nation.
• Once we have take these steps, we need to clamp down hard on those who employ illegals and who act as a magnet for their continuing arrivals.

The Hagel-Martinez compromise bill that was presented in the U.S. Senate is a good starting point. They would allow those illegal immigrants who have been in the United States for at least five years to pay a fine and back-taxes, show they have been working and agree to learn English to earn a spot at the back of the line towards becoming citizens. This gives them the incentive to really start to assimilate that leaving in limbo does not promote. Those who have been here for two to five years, must return to their countries and register to return. Those here fewer than two years will be sent back. We need some of these people and we need to know who they are. Otherwise we are in danger of having truly bad seeds among us. But no one has the time to weed through 12 million people to find them.

Of course, if you have been reading my blog for awhile you know I am most worried about those kids or young adults who were brought here as kids who have most of their ties and have had most of their education here in the United States. What would we be sending them back to when they didn't come here on their own to begin with? If we turned a blind-eye and created the environment in which their parents stayed here for years to labor cheaply for us, don't we have some sort of responsibility to them? They're kids. If they have been here fewer than two years, though it is difficult to be shuffled back and forth, it is not as traumatic or insurmountable a process of reacclimation.

I hope this is clear for you. I would like to thank one of my fellow teachers at Austin High School John Mast, for asking me some good questions. It led me to solidify my viewpoint here.