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May 26 2020

Young New Mexico Mayor Governs in the Shadow of the Wall

A wall separating the border of Mexico and the U.S. runs through Sunland Park, a New Mexico city located just west of El Paso, Texas. (Photo by Andrea Gabor)

By Ayse Kelce

Javier Perea was first appointed mayor of Sunland Park, a New Mexico border town of 17,000 people just west of El Paso, in 2012 after a prostitution-payment scandal swept then-mayor Daniel Salinas out of office.

Javier Perea is serving his third term as mayor of Sunland Park. (Photo courtesy of Javier Perea)

Perea was 24 when he filled the position, making him one of the youngest mayors in the country. Now 34, Perea is currently serving his third term.

Sunland Park was the focus of another controversy in the summer of 2019 when a group called We Build the Wall started its project to erect a border wall on private land within the city limits. Perea drew national media coverage when he took the controversial step of issuing a stop-work order because the organization had failed to obtain the required permits to build in Sunland Park.

While the wall controversy became a national conversation, Sunland Park officials and residents have their own unique ideas about what a border wall means to them and the city. Perea spoke about these controversies and his hopes for the city’s future in a Zoom interview on April 20. His comments have been edited for length and clarity.

You were only 24 when you became the mayor of Sunland Park. Describe your journey to that appointment? Would you say that your age was a challenge?

Back in 2012, the city was going through a scandal and we made national news. There were over 17 different arrests within the city, both public officials and public employees, including the then-elected mayor. Under New Mexico law, you have 30 days to take your oath of office. After 30 days, the council decided to take the mayor position vacant.

Seeing everything that was going on, it was embarrassing to say you were from Sunland Park. And I said, if I didn’t do anything to prevent what happened, I’m trying to step up and do something to try and change it, to fix it. I went up to the city council and I submitted a letter of interest and my resume. Fifty-five minutes later, I became the mayor for the city of Sunland Park.

We were the laughing stock across the entire state and in many parts around the nation. Sunland Park was associated with corruption. So we had to work tremendously to get that image fixed.

I was 24 years old. And that in itself, had issues with some individuals. They thought about me as a 24-year-old with no government experience and no political background, telling them what to do. So, I did struggle with a few personalities within the city. But at the end of the day, I realize that it’s not necessarily about me. It’s about being able to organize other people, experts in their fields, to be able to produce a product.

What is it like to be a mayor of a border city? What are its unique challenges?

Although we’re a small municipality, we still have to be able to have the ability to deal with different international borders, but also across state lines. Sometimes it is easy to be forgotten since we are far away from Santa Fe, the New Mexico state capitol.

But we’ve made an effort to get involved across the state. I’m actually now the vice president of the New Mexico Municipal League. I now not only represent the city of Sunland Park, but I represent municipalities across the entire state of New Mexico.

How would you describe the relationship of your city with the other side of the border?

Here in the city of Sunland Park, we don’t have a port of entry. We’re actually working on developing one right now. We do have a very strong relationship with our neighbors in the south. And I think that’s something that people don’t understand that we have a very happy, strong relationship with our neighbors.

Whether it’s medical tourism where people go over there because, you know, medical practice is more affordable over there than it is in the United States. So for those who don’t have insurance, they go to Mexico.

Another thing we have, for example, my administrative assistant, he actually lives in Juarez. But he comes over here every single day. One of my city councilors lives here, but he’s a plant manager in Juarez. So there’s a dynamic of cross-border living that exists.

And we depend on each other and for our economic success. If Juarez struggles, we’re going to struggle as well because of that cross-city exchange that happens between both. Also we’re a logistics hub. In this area, there’s a lot of merchandise, a lot of goods that cross through our area.

Why is building a port of entry here important?

One thing is going to be an economic vitality of our community. Right now we’re a bedroom community (of El Paso). And what we need in our community to continue to thrive as a municipality is the development of commercial areas within the city.

Another important thing to realize is that in Mexico, in Juarez, there are 1.5 million people, probably even more. And they are a large part of our economy. There’s a huge space that has the opportunity for a new port of entry. And that’s what we’re trying to capitalize at this moment.

How do you think that the border policies are affecting politics in the city?

Actually, not as much within the city of Sunland Park. When people who do not know our area try to present solutions to the issues here, it can get a little frustrating. I wish people would come down here to have the opportunity to actually see how we engage with each other. I realize that most people do not know how things work here on the border.

When there is an issue about the border wall here, you see the entire nation divided about it, but actually the people here are very normal about it in the sense that there’s no major arguments between people.

We’ve had a border wall here since the second Bush administration; I think it was in 2002 they implemented a wall, a fence there. And then under the Obama administration, they allocated more funding, and then it was redone under the Trump administration. People go on about their daily lives. Every day you come to work, you see that wall. Or when you go home, you can’t miss it. So people are not necessarily divided here, but I think that people outside misinterpret what the wall does. For us, it has helped curb some petty crimes, for example, thefts and vandalism. But it doesn’t necessarily deal with the issue of immigration. It doesn’t change that issue that we have to deal with at a much bigger level at the federal level.

Can you talk a little bit about what it was like when We Build a Wall started its project? The city got national attention, how did you deal with that?

I think one of the biggest reactions was not necessarily about the wall being built, it was that the wall was being built without the proper clearances, without the proper permission from the city. They did this behind our backs. They intentionally did it, starting to work without notifying anybody. And of course, our role as a local government is to enforce local ordinances, local law. And that’s when we got wind of what was happening there; we took the necessary steps to stop it. And then that’s when this became a national issue.

There was actually nothing that we could do to stop it, whether we were neither for it or against. If they followed all the rules from the very beginning, I don’t think this would have become a scandal or a big issue.

What is the perspective of local residents toward immigration policies?

From within the city of Sunland Park, I did not hear major reactions. I know there’s groups within the El Paso region here in our area who are getting into the national discussion of it. It’s been pretty quiet here within the city, so I think that’s what people like or are drawn to our community. It’s pretty peaceful.

Being on the border, there’s a large immigrant population within our communities. Like I mentioned, some of the people don’t understand the dynamics of people who live in our area. I think we work towards being inclusive and making sure that everyone is an active member in our community. It’s an interesting dynamic, but, my hope is that others can get to see that dynamic and realize that these immigrants are people who just want to create a better environment for themselves for their kids and a better future. I mean, we’re one of the safest communities in the state of New Mexico. I think that says a lot about who we are.

Is there an effort to get an accurate census count in Sunland Park?

The undercount had been a big problem. [The debate about including a citizenship question, which has since been excluded] scared some people from participating. But, we are working with Donana County and all the state agencies we can to make sure that the publicity gets out there for people to get counted and get the census forms done.

The coronavirus doesn’t help very much, but I understand that there is going to be another push probably in June to get people counted. But I think it’s important that we realize that there’s a lot of people who need the services from the federal government, and we need to make sure that they get counted so that the proper allocations are made.

 

 

 

Written by VHaller · Categorized: Uncategorized · Tagged: border, census, immigration, mayor, New Mexico, politics, port of entry, Sunland Park, We Build the Wall

May 26 2020

Pandemic Sparks Entrepreneurship at the Border: Small Non-Profits Make Protective Gear for Healthcare Workers in Both Juarez and El Paso

At Fab Lab, skeleton crews of two-to-three people produce face masks, working six-hour shifts to maintain social distancing. (Photo courtesy of Fab Lab)

By Aurora Ferrer

Small, non-profit, “makerspaces” in El Paso, Texas and Juarez, Mexico are helping to combat the personal protective equipment shortage for medical workers on the border.

Since the start of the Covid-19 pandemic, El Paso-based Fab Lab (short for Fabrication Laboratory), has put its technological resources, including 3D printers, towards making face masks and face shields for front line workers, as well as parts for respirators. An open-source, design-and-manufacturing organization, Fab Lab El Paso is a non-profit that also provides STEM training for students and entrepreneurs. Meanwhile, its sister labs, Fab Lab Juarez and Fab Lab Paso del Norte in Mexico have also started to make protective equipment, using funds recently raised through donations.

Governments in both the United States and Mexico have widely faced criticism over severe shortages of protective equipment in hospitals and other healthcare facilities, which have been shown to place healthcare workers in greater danger of contracting the highly contagious and often deadly virus. According to the World Health Organization, the U.S. has the highest rate of Covid-19 infections in the world, while Mexico has the third-highest rate among Latin American countries.

As of mid-May, the El Paso County Health Department reported 1,234 cases and 82 deaths. The state of Chihuahua in Mexico reported 943 cases and 169 deaths.

The Fab Labs on both sides of the border decided to answer the call for protective equipment before they had received funding. Samuel Badillo, operations director at Fundación Axcel, which runs the Juarez Fab Labs, said, “We just started doing it” and decided to figure out how to pay for it later.

Fab Lab El Paso has struggled to obtain funds from the Payroll Protection Program, a problem plaguing many small American businesses and non-profits. (Photo courtesy of Fab Lab)

With skeleton crews of two-to-three people working short shifts (about six hours) because of social distancing efforts, the organization was able to turn out 3,000 masks in about three weeks.

Fundación Axcel, founded in 2013, provides training, consulting and education for high school students, entrepreneurs and anyone else who wants to learn about technology. Through its Fab Labs it also focuses on digital fabrications and rapid prototyping. It is the non-profit arm of the Technology Hub, which according to its website, “is a binational business incubator built to stimulate regional innovation, entrepreneurship, and industry.”

Originally founded in 2014, Fab Lab El Paso recently received a $1,500 grant from the Paso Del Norte Health Foundation (PDNHF) for the protective-equipment project. Additional funding has been provided by United Healthcare, as well as other companies, organizations and individual supporters.

Cathy Chen, executive director of Fab Lab, says the organization has sent protective equipment to as many as 10 clinics in low-income El Paso communities, as well as several senior centers. (Handout photo from Fab Lab)

Cathy Chen, executive director at Fab Lab El Paso said the organization has sent out “hundreds of PPE to Centro de Salud Familiar La Fe, which has 10 clinics in El Paso and serves low-income community needs.” She also notes that United Healthcare and “affiliate senior care centers” have received hundreds of protective devices, as well as sending “1,500 pieces of N100 mask frames and face shields to [nonprofits] in Mexico for community distribution.”

Fab Lab El Paso is also fulfilling daily smaller orders for protective equipment. “All in all, we have sent out almost 3,000 pieces of PPE and are in the process of prototyping custom PPE for specific medical needs, such as dentists and surgeons,” said Chen.

The Mexican organizations have had more success attracting government support than Fab Lab El Paso. In addition to private donations, which included an SLA printer (used for respirator parts,) the Juarez Fab Labs have received some support from their local government.

Meanwhile, Fab Lab El Paso has struggled to obtain funds from the Payroll Protection Program (PPP), a problem that has persisted among many small American businesses and non-profits. “We did qualify for a small advance from the SBA (Small Business Administration) under the Economic Injury and Disaster Loan program,” said Chen, noting that the organization has not yet received a response to its application for a PPP loan.

The El Paso border has been hit especially hard, economically. With the U.S./ Mexico border closed to non-essential travel, and the quarantine shutting down all non-essential businesses, trade between El Paso and Juarez has come to a standstill. According to Workforce Solutions Borderplex, 38,104 unemployment insurance claims were filed on the U.S. side of the border between March 29th and April 30th.

 

Written by VHaller · Categorized: Uncategorized · Tagged: border, business, coronavirus, El Paso, entrepreneurship, Fab Lab, healthcare, healthcare workers, Juarez, makerspace, pandemic, payroll protection, PPE, STEM

May 26 2020

The Pandemic Stymies Efforts to Help the Poorest Communities: Local Organizations that Provide Vital Social Supports Are Impeded by Social Distancing

Church volunteers sort donations and put together bags of groceries for Sacred Heart’s food pantry, one of the few in-person programs the church is maintaining during the pandemic. (Photo by the Rev. Stephen Pitts)

By Anacaona Martinez Rodriguez and Amanda Salazar

At the Sacred Heart Catholic Church in El Paso’s “El Segundo” neighborhood, just blocks from the city’s main border crossing to Juarez, Mexico, the Rev. Stephen Pitts worries how parishioners are faring without the many outreach services the church has had to stop, or scale back, under the state’s coronavirus stay-at-home order.

But he is most worried about the emotional toll that the lockdown is having on members.

“These people have survived the violence in Juarez; the fact that they can’t be together now is worse,” Pitts said during a video interview after the state went into lockdown to curb the spread of the virus on April 13. “That’s how they survive everything. I think there’s a lot of loneliness.”

For families at the border who depend on religious institutions and community activities in times of hardship, not being able to congregate and ride out the challenges created by the pandemic together has been particularly difficult, he said.

High school players from El Segundo Barrio Soccer Club compete in El Paso. (Photo courtesy of El Segundo Barrio Soccer Club’s Facebook page)

Organizers of El Segundo Soccer Club, which engages children in league sports and supports the families of its players, also have ceased all games and activities, including plans to take one of its teams to participate in the state championship.

“All of that just canceled right now,” said Juan Adame, one of the coaches of the soccer club, which started in 2011 and has grown to serve about 150 children, ages eight to 18.

“We never thought nine years ago something like this was going to stop all that,” Adame said. “The state tournament is very important for all these kids because it’s been the way that we’ve been kind of selling it to this team, to everybody. ‘If you win state, you’re going to be recognized.’”

Without being able to go to states, he said, the players have lost the possibility of realizing a high-profile win, possibly playing in college and then, just maybe, playing professionally.

Sacred Heart and El Segundo Soccer club serve one of the most disadvantaged neighborhoods in the country. According to U.S. Census data from El Segundo’s 79901 zip code, the average annual income of residents is $21,000, with 60 percent of the neighborhood living below the poverty line.

Pitts said a strong sense of community, ingrained in the parish and among most El Pasoans, has meant that people were willing to stay home during the pandemic and self-isolate to protect each other, especially the older or sick members of their neighborhood. But the lockdown has kept them from worship and other services the church offers.

Volunteers from the church’s food pantry distribute groceries. (Photo by the Rev. Stephen Pitts)

Due to the coronavirus pandemic, the church also has had to stop most of its outreach programs, which included citizenship and adult-education classes, except for the food pantry, which it continues to run.

Because many parishioners do not have internet connections, Sacred Heart has not been able to reach many people through its virtual services and masses. The church’s messages of hope are not reaching enough people, Pitts said.

Additionally, Efren Loya Gomez, an assistant religious director at the Sacred Heart, said many parishioners have reported having problems with landlords and employers during the pandemic.

“There was a lady that stopped me the other day to help her fill out a money order,” he said. “She told me her landlord told her she has to pay $25 dollars a day every day she was late with her rent. If not, he was going to evict her.”

Gomez said some parishioners were suffering economically because they face job losses and were not eligible for federal stimulus money because they were undocumented.  “With the pandemic, they’re suffering and they’re stressing out,” he said.

A mural depicting the rich history of Sacred Heart Catholic Church adorns side buildings along E. Father Rahm Avenue where many of the parish’s outreach programs are housed. (Photo by Vera Haller)​

El Segundo Soccer Club executive director Simon Chandler, who founded the league after coaching his own son on a community team, said his players also were experiencing anxiety during the pandemic.

“Their fears are very kid-like fears,” he said. “They’re worried about whether they’re going to pass sixth grade, seventh grade, eighth grade, what happens if they don’t do the work, that their computer doesn’t work. They have problems with the software and all that stuff.”

Chandler, who also works as the Community Schools Coordinator in the El Paso public school system, was a school teacher when he started the club, figuring it would be a good way to engage the kids in the low-income neighborhood where he taught and lived.

“As an educator, you’re always finding ways to kind of motivate your kids, to hook them into whatever you are doing and so soccer made perfect sense,” he said.

El Segundo is a predominantly Latino area; Chandler estimated that 90 percent or more of the people living in El Paso speak Spanish. Soccer, or fútbol as it is known to much of the world, is one of the most popular sports in Latin America, Spain and Portugal.

The soccer club has multiple teams for kids of all ages. The club also offers services for the members of the players’ families.

While their child or sibling is at practice, relatives can participate in one of the soccer club’s English language courses or citizenship classes. Those programs also have been cancelled due to the coronavirus and stay-at-home order.

Adame, whose younger brother Marcos, 18, has been playing with the Segundo soccer club since it began, said the club plays an important role in the players’ development.

Students from El Segundo Barrio Soccer Club, on their way to compete in last year’s state championships, pose on an Austin street. This year’s championship was cancelled due to the pandemic. (Photo courtesy of El Segundo Barrio Soccer Club’s Facebook page)

“It exposes the kids here to the outside world, not just in this community,” Adame said. “Even just taking them out to play on the East side of the city, just to take them [to] play every weekend, that’s sort of something big because a lot of parents don’t have a car here.”

Soccer was the way that the club drew the kids in, but it was never the ultimate goal.

“I’m thinking if there’s another word other than ‘family,’ but I can’t think of one,” Adame said. “That’s what it is. I arrived in this community at about 10 years old.  My mind is here, my heart is here. Now with this club, it’s my passion.”

Written by VHaller · Categorized: Uncategorized · Tagged: border, border wall, Catholic Church, community aid, coronavirus, El Paso, El Segundo, Juarez, Mexico, pandemic, poverty, soccer, Texas

May 26 2020

The Making of a Crossover Politician: In A Rural Border District, State Representative Mary González Straddles the Partisan Divide

Despite her liberal-Democrat pedigree, Representative Mary González has developed bipartisan credibility in the Texas State House—a necessary trait in an overwhelmingly Latino, but socially conservative, district. (Photo courtesy of Mary González)

By Catherine Chojnowski and Jose Nieves Herrera

In 2013, Mary González, a freshman state representative, stood on the Texas House floor to give her first opposition speech. She was arguing against a bill that would weaken standards for colonias, unincorporated mostly rural communities that lack vital infrastructure, such as sewage systems and roads.

As she began her speech, a prominent Republican leader walked up behind her and held two fingers up in the air, signaling to other legislators that they should follow González’s lead and vote against the bill.

Winning the support of that Republican, Byron Cook, the former Republican Texas House State Affairs Committee Chairman, was key to defeating the colonias bill. It was also a sign that González, despite her liberal-Democrat pedigree, had developed bi-partisan credibility—a necessary trait in an overwhelmingly Latino, but socially conservative, district and one increasingly rare both in Texas and nationally. Representing a district that is neither completely Democratic nor Republican, Gonzalez has won support across ideological and party lines.

Texas State District 75 encompasses east El Paso County, and the towns of San Elizario, Socorro, Clint, Fabens and Tornillo. It includes six school districts and over 260 colonias.

González is an unlikely candidate for cross-partisan appeal: she is relatively young, 37, single, outspoken and openly a member of the LGBTQ community. Upon first being elected, she explains that she faced a certain degree of backlash from the community.

Initially, she said: “Nobody wanted to be my friend.”

González’s championing of agricultural issues and public education, however, helped her gain the support of her colleagues early on.

“She looks for ways to bridge divides, and she promotes policies that create conversations rather than push people into familiar camps,” said Representative Joe Moody, a colleague in the Texas State House.

González’s relationship with Byron Cook who would become her mentor also helped solidify her bipartisan credentials. One day, Cook told Gonzalez she was the same age as his daughter. “He said on this House floor, you are my daughter,” González recalled.

The two were an odd duo: “He’s this tall, skinny, older conservative Republican, and I’m this short, little, Mexican, fluffy Latina,” said González.

As a legislator, González strong support for public education, a key issue for both parties, also has won her bipartisan support. She authored House Bill 89, which mandated that school districts with high drop-out rates allocate part of their school funding “for developing and implementing research-based strategies for drop-out prevention.” Another bill authored by González,  created measures for assisting homeless and former foster-care students enrolled in public colleges and universities.

“I feel since I’m a rural Democrat, I’ve had a lot of opportunities to connect with some rural Republicans because we still have the same issues,” she said.

González, who lives in Clint, a rural town outside El Paso, has championed agricultural issues, including a bill mandating animal-tracking to identify the source of disease outbreaks among livestock, that have won her bipartisan support. (Photo courtesy of Mary González)

Currently serving her fourth term in the State House, she is a member of the appropriations and public education committees, and has served as vice chair of the Local and Consent Calendars Committee since 2019. This year, she also was appointed to the Legislative Budget Board, one of the most powerful boards in the state.

González, who once taught at the University of Texas at Austin and served as Assistant Dean for Student Multicultural Affairs at Southwestern University—she has a doctorate in Cultural Studies in Education—said her academic background helped her bring “different tools” to her job as a legislator.

González lives in Clint, a rural town just outside El Paso, where she grew up, and raises goats. In the legislature, she also has taken a leadership role on agriculture issues. For example, she co-authored a bill that enforced a strategic plan by the Department of Agriculture to prevent crop diseases and pests in the state, and has supported a bill that would mandate animal-tracking to prevent and identify the source of disease outbreaks among livestock. She also championed policies important to the dairy and pecan industries “because they would open up economic opportunities for her district,” said Moody.

“I end up creating these really interesting alliances with rural Republicans because of the work that I’m doing in agriculture,” she said. “When they need something in agriculture, they come to me to help them explain it to the Democrats.”

Despite her bi-partisan support, her gay identity has caused some tension among her constituents, on occasion, and she said that if her opponents had brought her gay identity to light during her initial election, she would have most likely lost. She compared the ongoing support of her constituents, despite ideological divisions, to her relationship with her father, who is a conservative Republican.

Border politics, however, is where González’s bi-partisanship ends; she strongly opposes Republican wall building. Although most of Gonzalez’s constituents identify as conservative, 90.6 percent are also Hispanic. Yet, many constituents know someone, or are related to someone, who works for the border police—a well-paying occupation in her district. When addressing issues relating to the border, González tries to maintain an objective tone; she said she tries to identify the “root of the problem,” while also trying to “highlight its complexity.”

A champion of public education, González regularly speaks to school children about the importance of voting. She says voter apathy is due to years of voter suppression. (Photo courtesy of Mary González)

One problem that continues to confound González is low voter participation. Out of the nearly 200,000 constituents in her district, only around 10,000 participated in the last primary election. Gonzalez ran unopposed in her district’s 2020 Democratic primary, and has run unchallenged by a Republican in the general election since first winning office.

González blames the lack of political interest to years of voter suppression that has “done so much over generations to tell people not to vote, not to care, not to know,” and a lack of cultural consciousness by those trying to engage potential voters with donations. In an attempt to engage the youth in political issues, she holds assemblies in schools throughout her district, reminding future voters that their participation can make a difference.

“I’ve been working very hard over the last decade to show that democracy is vital to the ways that we live and that there are good elected officials in the world,” González said.

 

 

 

 

Written by VHaller · Categorized: Uncategorized · Tagged: binational, border, border police, border wall, Byron Cook, census, Clint, colonias, Democrat, education, Mary Gonzalez, partisanship, politics, public education, Rep. Joe Moody, Republican, rural, Texas, Texas House of Representatives, voter suppression, voters

May 26 2020

Willivaldo Delgadillo, an Author and Activist, Reflects on Growing Up on Both Sides of the Border

The author and activist poses with friends in 1976. (Photo courtesy of Willivaldo Delgadillo)

By Sophia Carnabuci and Melissa Bacian

Willivaldo Delgadillo, a journalist, author and activist, was born in Los Angeles , but grew up in Juarez, Mexico. His parents were from Juarez, originally, but had immigrated to Los Angeles in the 1950s. Four months after his birth, in 1960, Delgadillo’s parents decided to return to Juarez; Los Angeles was a dangerous city at the time and Juarez was smaller. Having American citizenship, but growing up in Mexico, Delgadillo considers himself binational and bicultural. In this interview, Delgadillo discusses life and identity growing up on the border and his thoughts on Juarez/El Paso.

Delgadillo’s  writing is politically driven. He writes mostly in Spanish as a way to view the exploitation of violence through the lens of Juarez, as seen in his novel Garabato, and as a way to connect directly to the people there. Delgadillo lives in Juarez and teaches in the department of language and linguistics at the University of Texas, El Paso. This interview was edited for length and clarity.

Could you tell us about your experience growing up in Juarez/El Paso and what effect it had on your identity?

People from the United States and Mexico construct their identity in a different way. In the US, generally, it’s constructed around ethnic lines; you’re Mexican-American, Jewish-American, Muslim-American, African-American, etc. But in Mexico, you really are from the state where you were born, or the land; the place of birth really determines your identity.

I went to school in Juarez, elementary and secondary schools, but I was always aware I was an American citizen. Although I didn’t want to be an American citizen. Because I was going to school in Mexico, I felt that I wasn’t Mexican enough. Later on, I found the advantages of having an American passport; back then it was really easy to go back and forth for me. I belonged to both parts of the city. When I was growing up, you didn’t really need to show your passport when you went to the United States. You could just say “American citizen” and that was it.

[The border police] might ask where you live or where you were born, but if you were trained to answer those questions, you could go across even if you weren’t an American citizen. I trained my friends from my neighborhood in Juarez who weren’t American citizens, to go across and say “American” and to answer those key questions.

El Paso had these venues where famous groups like Kiss or Yes came to play. Groups from the 70s. A couple of us were American citizens and the rest of them weren’t. But we all said “American” and we successfully went across [the border.]

Delgadillo recalls vacations he would take with his grandmother at Torreon, a town across the river from Gomez Palacio, connected by a bridge. He and his grandmother would frequently cross the Nazas River, which divides the two towns by bus.

Once I asked my grandmother, how come we weren’t required to show a passport? Because it was like Juarez/El Paso, right?

So, in a way, I thought of bridges and rivers as borders where you had to somehow identify yourself. I saw that Juarez/El Paso were part of the same thing. You just had to say “hello” or make some signs, some gesture to be able to get authorized to get over to the other side. I grew up with that idea of thinking of the border as both a fence but also a bridge.

What were some of the positives and negatives of growing up this way?

For Delgadillo, going to high school in El Paso was like being on the TV set of James at 15, one of his favorite shows.  (Photo courtesy of Willivaldo Delgadillo)

After I went to secondary school in Juarez, I went to high school in El Paso, not to Bowie High School, which is right on the border, but to its rival, Jefferson High School. Jefferson and Bowie are rivals in sports. But in both schools, most of their students are Mexican-American. People in Bowie High School were more comfortable with their identity as Mexican or Chicano. They were mainly from working class families and didn’t have any problems with being Mexican, being identified as Mexican, for better or worse.

But people in Jefferson High School, they were a little different. There were all these people who were from Juarez, like me. The mainstream student at Jefferson High School identified himself or herself as Mexican-American not as Mexican not as Chicano but as Mexican-American. Not Hispanic yet, but Mexican-American. That meant that they were more assimilated. But they were also middle class  Everyone aspired to be Mexican-American.

That was a struggle for people like me who came from Juarez because we didn’t speak the language that well. It was good in a way because we were challenged to learn the language and to learn high school rituals– sports, homecoming or assemblies. These were things that we didn’t really have in Mexican schools.

For me, this was like being part of a TV show. Back then there was this show called James at 15 and it was about James being in high school. I was 15. When I saw that on TV, I saw lockers and hallways and classrooms. When I started going to Jefferson High, for me it was like the TV set of James at 15. Because now I had my locker, and I had these hallways that looked like regular American high school hallways. And each high school had its library. Like really well-equipped libraries, even with books! I remember going to the librarian and I asked her, “So how many books can I check out?” And she answered, “Well how many can you carry?” And I said, “Really?” You know how now we’re panic-buying toilet paper? I did that with books. I put all these books in my backpack and carried them. So that was the good part.

The bad part was we were referred to as Juarenos; Juarenos was a way of putting you down. There was this whole discourse of people from another country coming to tap resources of Americans–even though [we] were American citizens.

I always defended my Juarez identity. But at the same time, I was interested in learning the language and I was interested in American literature and I was interested in music. So that was part of the border too on both sides and I was happy I was at a place where I could learn that. And also, that I was on the TV set of James at 15.

What changes have you seen since your years in El Paso as a high school student?

 Many things have changed. Now people in Jefferson High School are more like people in Bowie High School. They all have a sense of being Mexican because I’ve been back to give talks and stuff.

Delgadillo explains that there are far more students from Juarez going to school in El Paso these days.

The migration from Mexico to the United States really grew in the 90s and then in the 2000s for several reasons. One, because of NAFTA, and later because of the violence. But during these times, people felt compelled to stay in El Paso because of the violence or [for] economic reasons.

Now Mexican-ness in El Paso has grown. My students [at the University of Texas at El Paso] are mostly bilingual and bicultural. They speak Spanish really well. But they’re also really articulate in English. Whereas when I was growing up, if you spoke Spanish mostly, they would be like, “Oh he doesn’t speak English.” Or they would say, “Speak English!” But now, nobody says that. It’s not cool to say that because people don’t even question those things. If you go to a restaurant or a bar or whatever, the waiter is most likely is bilingual. There’s no stigma.

The mainstream is like “You speak Spanish?” “Yeah si que quieres?” and there’s no problem. It’s a more comfortable place to be Mexican in El Paso now. And that’s why I now call it “North Juarez.” Parts of El Paso are North Juarez because if you go there, you feel like you’re not in Mexico or the United States, you feel like you’re in some different place.

There are very conservative pockets and very progressive pockets, but I’m talking about the mainstream.

Another thing that has changed is that the binational population–people like me that go back and forth–that population has grown. Back then, people called me gringo; they knew I went to school in El Paso. I was mocked in Juarez too. But that stuff doesn’t fly. The legitimacy of people calling themselves fronterizo without being in a deficit, an identity deficit, has grown. Now it’s cool, it’s okay to be fronterizo [frontiersman].

When I finished high school and when I went to college and finished college, I was still living in Juarez. Only temporarily did I live in El Paso. So, I was really in Juarez and had my life in Juarez. I’m a Juarense.

How has the community reacted to the hardening of the border and new immigration policies under the Trump administration?

 Delgadillo explains the gradual shift in laws and policies as “episodes” in the history of the border. For example, the Immigration Reform and Control Act of 1986 made it illegal to hire undocumented workers. He references Operation “Hold the Line” in 1993, which brought an influx of border police in concentrated areas along the border as a way to control the area and provide a “show of force.” Finally, he speaks about the 2000s, which were directly affected by 9/11 and the Bush administrations prioritizing of homeland security. First the Bush administration, and then the Obama administration, worked on a border wall.  

 This has been gradual. Now we have Trump with another wall. This “let’s build a wall” is just the latest episode of a longer story.

That has brought long lines to the bridge, and now we have to show our passports. The way the border is operated is like a military checkpoint. It’s like you’re going to a war zone. They have this thing called concertina wire; it looks like regular fence wire from afar, but it’s really aggressive. If you touch it, it cuts deep. It’s really dangerous. But most of it is symbolic; it’s just to make you feel like you’re entering this place of high security and high scrutiny. The border also has all these technological features like cameras and radars and sound detectors. It’s a policy of fear.

And of course, the excuse or the reason for all of this is drugs, right? The interception of drugs. But drugs keep going across!

I remember back then when I grew up and I was learning how to be a citizen in both countries. There were many things that I really liked in the United States and in the history of the United States. I was learning about how people in the United States fought for civil rights. How people in the United States fought against the Vietnam war. How students protested with these big marches—that was really inspiring to me. I really wanted to be a part of that political heritage.

But gradually, that spirit has been killed–by this instilling of fear. We have as Americans (I’ll speak as an American now), we have given up many of our rights, I think these hardened border policies are against people in the United States. We just thought this is against other people, but this is really against us too; you cannot see them as separate.

Another effect is that it changes the narrative of what Americans are all about. Each nation tells itself a story. In the United States, we’re a country of immigrants. We’re a pluralist society. We’re very respectful of freedom of speech and like I said earlier, our ethnic backgrounds. We’re a country who was always on the right side of human rights and on the right side of environmental justice. We’re no longer that guy. The problem is it’s not just with Trump, it’s just that the narrative of the country is changing.

We’re being led to accept that we don’t have to be the country of immigrants. We don’t have to be for justice in the world. Americans come first.

I’m talking about the narrative of the country and how we grow up and how we feel like we are being good Americans. A good American is someone who respects other people’s points of view, religious freedom, human rights, environmental justice, the vote, etc. That’s all relative now.

 

Written by VHaller · Categorized: Uncategorized · Tagged: binational, border, border police, border wall, culture, El Paso, identity, immigration reform, Immigration Reform and Control Act, Juarez, Mexico, Operation "Hold the Line", Texas, University of Texas at El Paso, UTEP, Willivaldo Delgadillo, writer

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