The Day I Was Told I Shouldn't Be Here

I still remember the words, "No, your grandparents should not have been allowed to come to the United States."

These words were not a comment left by some internet troll.
These words were not shouted at me by some flag-waving, white nationalist.
These words were not said with hate, venom, or even blatant racism.

These words were spoken to me by a relative as we discussed immigration policy debates about who should be allowed to immigrate to the United States — their take was that only educated people should be allowed to come to the United States.
A white relative.
A read relative.
A relative who knew me for years.
A relative who knew my grandparents.
A relative who shared meals with me, my grandparents, and my extended family.
A relative who had no idea how much those words pained my heart and tore my soul.

With tears of anger and rage welling up, I stood up and left the room.

I could have stayed and tried to make them understand, but it wasn't worth the effort. Whether they would even acknowledge it, at that moment, I knew where I stood in their eyes. I did not stop loving this person, but I no longer felt obligated to expend my energy to try to make this person understand. This person was no longer entitled to that part of my personhood. If proximity and actual personal relationships could not make it clear that developing a robust immigration policy was not about maintaining power and control, but about making a country better, there was not much else to say.

I mean, I get it. Some have the privilege of intellectualizing issues that they do not believe impact them directly, and I am sure that this person believed they were engaging in an "objective" debate. I am sure they were shocked when I walked out. I am sure that the intent was not to hurt me. The thing is, our policy debates are profoundly personal and should not be conducted as if there is a cultural vacuum in which those policies will be implemented.

Right now, I am sure many folks are bothered by how immigrants are being treated, but still hold an intellectual view of, "Well, if they are here illegally, the law should be enforced." These are probably not folks who would claim white supremacy, support Christian nationalism, or even voted for the current administration. These are probably friends, colleagues, and family members who have cocooned themselves into ignoring the nuances of our immigration system, the impacts of US Global economic policies upon migration, and the sinister nature of racism, militarism, and power when given unfettered freedom.

What is not remembered is that many of us come directly from those who were considered "illegal" at some point. My own immigration history, on both my Chinese and Filipino sides, is painted with creative migration strategies from fudging on ages to being part of the Paper Son era. What they did was technically "illegal," but what folks had to do to seek economic opportunity and escape oppressive circumstances in the face of barriers of discrimination.

This is not everyone's origin story, but to ignore the realities of how immigration has given our country and culture depth and texture is to look your immigrant neighbor in the eye and tell them that, not only do they not contribute to society in cultural and fiscal ways, but their legacy, which includes people like me and my children have no benefit as well. When we so casually dismiss the contributions of one generation, to our detriment, we are also dismissing the exponential impact of generations to come.

My relative, in their intention of having a debate about who should or should not be allowed to immigrate to the United States, in saying that my grandparents should not have been allowed in because they were of the peasant class, looked me in the eye and said, by association, that my existence was irrelevant — that my personhood, my relationships, my contributions were all meaningless and should never have been made possible.

It still stings.

But this is not just about immigration. The insidious nature of intellectualizing the impact of our national policy and personal perspectives is about racism, gender, incarceration, Palestine, protest, education, militarization, healthcare, etc. We fool ourselves into thinking that we can or should be completely objective about any of these things, or that we can be neutral because we are not directly affected.

I do it. We all do it, but it is becoming increasingly clear to me that the cocoon of false objectivity is crumbling like never before. I fear that the cocoon will burst open and drop us covered in a muck of stale ambivalence into a world that is filled with destruction driven by individualism, greed, and inhumanity.

I hope that we will not grasp onto every last bit of false neutrality only to find out that it is too late because what I choose to work towards is that when the cocoon of our current season peels away, we will emerge into a world filled with new life, held together by mutuality and committed to the common good.

This I choose to believe and hope you will too.

Peace,

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