Stomach aches and DHS anxiety

Sometimes I don't catch on to things too quickly. Although I love to read books, explore new ideas and am normally astute in analyzing human behavior, sometimes when it comes to the mundane practical situations of my own life I don't notice things as quickly as I should. In fact, I can be terminally dense.

My husband has been acting oddly for the last week. He's been quieter than usual, sullen and complaining of stomach and back problems. In fact, the last five days he has been getting up in the middle of the night and going over to the spare bedroom to sleep. I don't mind saying that I was feeling a bit rejected. Was I farting in bed? Bad breath? Do I exhibit Terets Syndrome when I sleep? What the heck was going on?? For some reason I just didn't catch on...until this morning...

Khalid rolled on his side in bed and groaned.

I asked: "What's the matter?"

"My stomach hurts."

"Again?" I asked incredulously (he's been complaining of a sour stomach for a few days now)

"Yeah."

Over the next few hours I was contemplating a whole host of scenarios that could explain Khalid's strange behavior over the last week. Was he sick? I asked myself. Was he having a hard time at work? Was he depressed? Sick of me????? (After almost five years of marriage it can happen to even the most loving of couples!) I had no idea what was wrong...

Now, Khalid is usually an early riser. He always gets up before me, but a curious thing happened today. He slept until 9:30 AM!!! He never sleeps that long.

Finally, it hit me! He's acting this way because we have to appear at the DHS office in Albany today and he's worried that something bad is going to happen. BINGO!

I knew that he usually gets nervous when we travel to Albany, but since we learned that India was not recognizing him as a citizen I thought the anxiety had abated a bit. At least he wasn't showing any major anxiety or concern. Usually he was very upbeat about the trip saying "I'm sure everything is status quo and there's nothing to worry about." while turning and smiling at me in a comforting manner."

I now recognize this as an effort to make me feel better. I was still vocal about my trepidation involving going to the DHS office for months after they proclaimed they were not going to deport Khalid. I was so afraid that the government would change their minds and detain and then deport Khalid to god-knows-where.

Apparently, I disregarded the other signs that indicated-- despite Khalid's stoicism--that he was still terrified of going to the DHS office. I ignored the back problems, the getting up in the middle of the night, the stomach ailments; not realizing that they all occurred in tandem a week before we had to visit the DHS office.

How could I be so blind??

And the worst thing about this whole mess is: I can't do anything about it other than holding his hand every time we walk into that damned DHS office in Albany.

An antidote to hate

Being an American citizen married to a “documented alien in removal” has its challenges, for sure. Between reporting to Homeland Security offices in Albany twice a year, constantly worrying about how the next batch of anti-immigration laws will affect your life, and dealing with the inevitable trolls who stalk the posts of pro-immigration bloggers and insinuate that only low class, stupid and desperate women/men would marry an “illegal” alien, can turn a person’s hair silver overnight.

Now, I’ve written about the error in using the term “illegal” in referring to immigrants in the past, but it bears repeating again. Most immigrants have not done anything illegal (i.e. crossing the border without inspection nor have most of them ever committed a crime.) In fact, a substantial number of immigrants have only committed a civil violation by overstaying-- not a criminal one; based on U.S. immigration law. To elaborate: overstay is a civil violation constituting an immigrant who has remained in the U.S. after a VISA has expired. Even the term “undocumented” does not accurately describe all immigrants. For instance, my husband has all his documents (i.e. worker’s permit, passport and a social security number) so he cannot be referred to as “undocumented”. Therefore, the characterization of all immigrants without a green card as “illegal” is inaccurate.

None of my friends who blog about deportation could be characterized as low class, desperate, and especially-- not stupid. The women (and men) I have known who are dealing with separation or deportations of a spouse are the smartest, bravest, strongest and most socially aware people I know. I am proud to call them friends and am thankful that they are a part of my life…even though many miles separate us all.

The wonderful connections I’ve made to people who are going through a similar experience are one of the bright spots in the everyday struggle of dealing with deportation. A fellow blogger remarked: “the whole process of dealing with the immigration system in the U.S. is so dehumanizing that the personal connections we foster online with people going through similar situations is mentally and spiritually healing.”

It can be easy to be consumed by anger and fear when you are dealing with the possible separation of you from your spouse. I remember when Khalid and I were going through the most precarious time in our marriage; just after the denial of his second circuit court case and the deportation mandate was issued. Whenever Khalid was late getting home from work, those minutes before he walked through the door were fraught with fear, anxiety and hopelessness. I was so afraid that ICE had apprehended him at work and sent him to detention. If this had happened I would not have been notified. I would not even know where they had taken him. Perhaps I would be one of the lucky spouses that would get a call from my husband or a lawyer days later telling me where he was being held. Otherwise, it is likely that I would not know any specifics until after the deportation process was completed and he arrived in the country of his birth.

Despite all of this turmoil there are positive aspects to this situation: besides making wonderful friendships. The whole immigration system is designed to tear the American citizen and deportee apart. However, a curious thing happens. Amidst all the negativity, barricades, hateful rhetoric and discriminatory policies the bonds between the couple entwine, grow thicker and become stronger. Love stubbornly grows where hate has wrought devastation. This seems to be a universal truth.

I am aware that since my husband and I have gone through this painful process that we do not easily take each other for granted. Many of the petty annoyances that plague my friends’ relationships do not affect us. When threatened with separation you treasure every moment you spend with the other person. Precious time cannot be wasted on insignificant disagreements you will likely forget a week later. You learn to love deeply, completely and forgive easily. Indeed, this seemingly fragile love becomes the strongest antidote to hate.

Practical, if not probable, solutions for immigration reform

Here it is, my feeble attempt to take on the mess that is our U.S. immigration system. However, I do not believe that a few simple fixes will fundamentally change the root cause of institutionalized immigrant discrimination. To end institutional immigrant discrimination you first need to eliminate institutionalized racism/sexism--and, unfortunately, I do not see that changing anytime soon.

Racism, sexism and classism will only abate when the social hierarchies of wealth and power structures in American capitalism are dismantled. Indeed, capitalism--especially late stage, unregulated capitalism, requires an ever-increasing number of hyper-exploitable, vulnerable workers to utilize against other workers in order to drive down wages for everyone.

Of course, race and sex are two favorite modes of classifying and segregating these workers: legal and illegal workers is another. It behooves capitalism to segregate workers in hierarchies in order to pit the various groups against each other. This ensures there is always a vulnerable group for capitalism to exploit (should one group get too demanding and uppity) and also keeps the working masses so busy fighting and blaming each other they will never unite together and fight their common oppressor: the elite capitalists.

Having said that, if I was the American President and had unlimited power (unrealistic--I know) I would do the following--listed in order of priority.

#1

The first thing I would do is ensure that The Family Unification Act and The Dream Act will pass. Two many wives, husbands, children, brothers and sisters are being needlessly torn apart with little prospect of reuniting. Additionally, many promising and intelligent young people are being deported before they can finish their degrees. The majority of them did not have a choice as to whether to stay in the US illegally. They came here as young children. Deporting any of these individuals-without a legal avenue to adjust their status-- is barbaric, ridiculous and goes against morality and commonsense.


#2

The second adjustment I would implement is changing our economic and foreign policies in order to foster cooperation with developing nations to strengthen their economies rather than plundering their raw materials, exploiting their labor force and undermining their autonomy. The stronger a nation becomes--and the more stable--the less likely people will move from their homelands. With that being said I will digress for a moment:

People don't like moving from their homeland, friends and families. In general, people prefer to remain in familiar surroundings with people of a similar language, customs and a shared history. Migrants don't like moving to foreign lands but they are compelled to do so for various reasons including extreme poverty, starvation, political/ethnic/religious violence and turmoil in their homelands. And although there has always been migration; the contemporary waves of immigrants from the southern hemisphere towards the epicenters of capitalism in the Northern hemisphere is unprecedented in history.

So, we need to ask ourselves, why is this mass exodus happening?

In a nutshell, these mass migrations are fueled by globalization and the unequal power dynamics between rich and developing countries that can be traced to colonialism, imperialism and the contemporary incarnation of unregulated turbo charged-capitalism. These policies of global de-regulation and unlimited free trade have been facilitated by IMF and WTO loan policies to control developing nations. The United States has significantly contributed to the financing of the IMF and WTO and therefore has undue influence in shaping these loan policies.

Jarrett S, Lovell, author and activist explains the history of the IMF specifically, and how it has metamorphosed into the neo-liberal institution it is today:

"In assessing the rise of corporate domination, many observers identify the aftermath of the Second World War as the era when corporate power became most pronounced. Indeed, the roots of contemporary discontent over corporate globalization can be found within the international trade institutions and policies that emerged at the end of the Second World War. Specifically after the war ended, the United Nations Monetary and financial Conference was assembled at Bretton Woods, New Hampshire, where the International Monetary fund (IMF) was created to finance the construction of Europe and to prevent international financial crises. To be sure, the IMF is a public institution. It is financed by taxes provided by citizens from contributor nations. It was established to allow countries experiencing financial problems to continue with global trade uninterrupted. the IMF initially recognized that even so-called free markets require regulation to prevent economic and social catastrophe. By the 1980's, however, the IMF operated according to an ideology that viewed any regulation as a barrier to capital. Under a new doctrine of neoliberalism, officials from the IMF encouraged countries to "liberalize" their economies, that is, to reduce or do away with such barriers as tariffs and humanitarian or environmental regulations."

So, in order to pave the way for free trade in developing nations, the IMF and WTO will coerce a country to dismantle their social networks, eliminate environmental protections for their citizens, de-value their currency and implement any number of laws and conditions that favor commerce (aka "progress") over citizenry. Some countries have even been strong armed into altering their constitutions in order to placate transnational companies.

So, transnational companies move into an area, set up temporary factories and hire the indigenous people for a pittance. They exploit and mistreat their workers while simultaneously destroying and poisoning the communities and residential areas where their employees live.

Suddenly--they will close up shop, layoff their workers and move to another developing nation where they can pay the work force less and exploit the populace and environment further. Leaving all workers, the world over, vulnerable, subjugated and intimidated.

#3

If I was President, I would consider one of my most fundamental jobs would be to hold myself, and all other public people and institutions to a high standard of ethics, particularly paying close attention to how words can fuel hate and human rights violations.

Citizens in The United States are fearful and look to the future anxiously. When people are scared they tend to look for a scapegoat to blame their troubles on. As Bertrand Russell eloquently states: "Collective fear stimulates herd instinct, and tends to produce ferocity toward those who are not regarded as members of the herd."
The President must be aware of this tendency and must not only choose his words wisely but must also publicly chastise those public individuals who use language unscrupulously to fuel hate and fear-mongering.

#4

As President I would completely overhaul the U.S. immigration court system. I would make sure that all judges sitting on the immigration court benches actually had a degree in immigration law. I would hire more immigration judges to take on the expanding load of immigration cases.

Additionally, I would expand the number of approved asylum quotas--based on need per each individual country.I would also implement some type of committee to oversee immigration lawyers. Any lawyers found misrepresenting themselves or exploiting immigrants would be fined and disbarred.

These are a few of the reforms I would put in place. There are more I could add but these are the most urgently needed.

"Other people's baggage"

The title of this post was borrowed from a phrase written on a blog maintained by a good friend of mine. Her name is Giselle Stern Hernandez and her husband was deported to Mexico back in 2000. A few months later she left her homeland in the United States to join him.

Giselle is a multi-talented artist who travels across the States and Mexico to perform a monologue piece she created about her exiled experience and the consequences of her husband's deportation. I highly recommend her blog and will include a link.

After reading a particular post on Giselle's blog: The Deportees Wife entitled "When Dialogue is Pointless." I was particularly struck by a specific phrase that Giselle wrote. The phrase was "other people's baggage" It was written in response to how some people miscontrue the fundamental message of her monologue, or make uneducated judgments about Giselle, her personality and lifestyle--in addition to forming opinions about her husband. This oftentimes happens even before they attend her show and is based upon sound bites and posters.

I am often confronted by "other people's baggage" when I engage in dialogue with individuals about my husband's immigration problems. I never know exactly how people think about our story, unless they are completely forthright --and that seldom happens. I often get exclamations of empathy and "I can't believe this is happening in America." Oftentimes I feel people within my inner circle are sympathetic to a point--but only because Khalid is someone they know or have heard about--and because he is my husband. Otherwise, this sympathy does not extend to other immigrants with similar circumstances.

People come with "baggage". I come with "baggage." This is a fundamental truth about human behavior. Many things can contribute to the accumulation of baggage including history, media and personal experiences. We, as educators and activists, can never know what kind of baggage the people with whom we engage in dialogue are carrying. Some people are so burdened by their own baggage that they will never make the effort to understand our stories. Luckily, some will. These are the people who put down their baggage long enough to pick up somebody else's.

And there will be others who may not "get it now" but through maturity and additional knowledge may "get it later." Unfortunately, some people will "get it" only when they or a loved one experience the deportation of someone close to them. This is the time when people like Giselle and I need to put down our baggage; and pick up somebody else's.

http://thedeporteeswife.wordpress.com/

Immigrant rights activism

As a result of connecting with other U.S. citizens whose significant other has been deported or detained, I have decided that I need to do something productive. There are far too many of us going through this tragedy. This needless suffering must come to an end! There are various ideas floating in my head, and I’m sure you have ideas too. We need to communicate with each other and brainstorm like crazy—and come up with ways to educate the public.

One idea I’ve been pondering involves borrowing an idea from our AIDS activist friends and creating a quilt that depicts the names of loved ones who have been deported or under deportation proceedings. This idea involves getting together a significant number of interested individuals willing to help create the quilt. Ideally, each person would agree to create a square of their loved one—or someone they know. Individuals who do not personally know anyone deported will still be welcome to participate. We can assign them a name. There is certainly not a shortage of people being deported and families being separated-- and the numbers increase every year.

Preferably, each quilt square would be created with materials that are durable. We want this quilt to be a testament to our determination to end these deportations—so it must be created to endure for decades. The idea is to send this quilt, upon completion, to various galleries and functions across the country to help raise awareness.

I have years of experience in needlework, sewing and designing so I am capable and willing to help coordinate the effort. If anyone else has similar experience, motivation or just passion please let me know. This group, unlike the contemporary functioning of our government-- will be a democratically organized community.
However, you don’t have to be an artist, designer or even be creative to make a quilt square. All that is needed is a willingness to learn and be spontaneous. I can help anyone who needs advice and can even design specific motifs. I’m sure there will be others willing to assist as well.

I do sincerely believe that art can change social consciousness. Art activists the world over are working diligently to help improve their communities. Right this minute there are thousands of activists, artists and performers who have congregated in Detroit to forge a different world. Change is not only possible, it is necessary.
Change begins with an idea—activists take those ideas and make them a reality. Let us be the immigrant rights activists who change the world for the better. If you are interested please contact me.

I can be reached on Facebook under the name Beth Brotherton, Hamilton College or at e-mail: silverwing6700@yahoo.com If you know of anyone else who may be interested please feel free to forward this message. Please, if you have any additional ideas let me know. I want to help forge a strong and unified community so we can help each other.

The Baby quandry

This blog post is arguably one of the most personal I have-- and probably ever will write. Before I started to write this blog I decided that I was going to depict as honestly and accurately the experiences of my husband and I. That would include, I surmised, even the most personal, fearful, humiliating, horrible aspects of this journey. This includes experiences and feelings most people keep hidden. If people are going to empathize or understand the unique experiences of being a deportee-- or the wife of a deportee, I knew I had to be completely forthright.

So, here it goes: Khalid wants a child. In the early days of our relationship; before the realities of our precarious predicament became clear to me, I wanted a child as well.

In fact, in March 2007 I found out I was pregnant. I was overjoyed and found myself, as most expectant mothers do, fantasizing about holding, playing and teaching the future newborn. I could-- in my mind’s eye; see, touch, smell and hear the child. This child was as real and alive to me as any living being in this temporal world. Despite some basic trepidation of financial concerns and my own insecurities about a lack of parenting skills, I was looking forward to having a child.

But things began to go wrong. My blood pressure began to spiral out of control and I kept getting sick. I have asthma, and the respiratory infections I kept getting took a toll on my already weakened lungs. I had to take antibiotics and other medications that I could only hope would not adversely affect the baby.

Then, in the middle of May I got deathly sick. I coughed continuously for two full weeks, had a temperature and could not eat nor could I get any rest during most of those nights. Khalid was concerned because he had never seen me so ill. I stayed in bed and only went to go see the doctor after Khalid forced me.

Finally, I started to get better. However, on May 26th I had a miscarriage. I was devastated. Nothing can prepare you for this kind of tragedy. Women don’t normally talk about these types of experiences and now I know why. It’s as if a small but integral part of your heart dies along with the baby. How can you speak of things so intimate, inherently fragile; eternally and exclusively linked to all our women ancestors: women who look upon our collective misfortunes in empathy and forgiveness?

Khalid, though devastated too, was there beside me to hold me up, even though I struggled to swim above the current in a frothy, torrential, and merciless ocean of despair.

When I finally emerged from my grief I was empowered in a way I can’t explain. I knew I wanted to be consumed by something, something that would give me meaning and identity. I decided to go back to college: specifically Hamilton College and prove that I could succeed at such a prestigious institute. I needed to prove my intelligence, tenaciousness and creativity. Education and self improvement have always been an important part of my life and I finally wanted to complete my studies.

So, I started to take course at Hamilton College in the Fall of 2008. I decided to major in Women’s Studies; a decision I have never regretted.

Taking Women’s Studies has forever altered my viewpoint of the world. I won’t go into specific intricacies—that would take too long, but in general I have learned not to take the world or the people in it at face value. More specifically I have learned not to internalize the pressures and expectations of a patriarchal, mediocre, moderate ideology. Rather than defining myself and my success based on what the dominate culture qualifies as normal-- I can decide for myself.

So, you ask: do you still want a baby?

Honestly, there is still a slight desire to have a child: someone I can pass my knowledge, skills and talents to. We’ve tried..but it isn’t happening. Despite this failure I’m not devastated. For various reasons, including financial, my feminist sensibilities, environmental and political concerns I am not as intent on having a child as I was. Certainly, if Khalid had a green card, a job that pays him what his experience and skills are worth, I was ten years younger and had my college degree then I would be more likely to consider becoming a parent.

The truth is, we are still in a precarious situation. If I were to get pregnant now-- I would be in a high risk category. That means I would need to go to the doctor’s frequently and there is a high chance of complications and birth defects. Additionally, we would have to go through a fertility clinic. Despite having insurance, this process would be very expensive. I am-- at this point, unwilling to put myself, our finances and my body through this ordeal.

My one regret, is denying Khalid the chance at being a father. He has been very gracious and supportive during this painful reflective period. I know he would make a wonderful, attentive and loving father: all those things that were denied to me.

Even though he has never pressured me into having a child and sincerely understands my reluctance and concerns there is a tinge of regret that if circumstances were different, we would easily and freely have a child. This is just another causality in the ongoing battle between us and the U.S. immigration system.

Another unnecessary deportation: Saad Nabeel

Saad Nabeel is an American in every way. However, in November 2009, when he was taken into custody by U.S. immigration officials, he lacked the one thing that would have allowed him to stay in the only country he has ever known: an approved green card.

Ironically, Saad’s father had a green card approved when he and his family were arrested, detained and ultimately deported. Unfortunately, the green card was not expected to arrive until January 2010.

Please check out the links below to read Saad’s full story. There are links to videos, petitions and even a place where you can donate money to help ensure Saad and his family can return home to the United States.

If you feel, like I do: that these injustices must stop-- please help to further the cause of just and fair immigration reform. Immigrants are not disposable people, and many of them, like Saad and my husband, are American in every way. They just need a legal avenue to make it official; something that has so far been denied to them.

http://www.bringsaadhome.com/

Like tip-toeing through a mindfield

Khalid and I have made a critical decision. We have decided to file the adjustment of status papers, and the excludibility waiver that should negate his inadmissible status. It has cost us over 1,500 dollars to file all these papers, but it may be our best--and last chance.


Despite the fact that we have gotten some contradictory information about Khalid's ability to file the waivers we are acting on our gut instinct. We have reason to believe that this might actually work. Perhaps, at a later time I will discuss the conclusions that we have come to that have prodded us to act. For now, lets just say that some of the pieces of this perplexing immigration puzzle have finally come into place.

Technically, and legally speaking he should be able to adjust his status with the filing of the excludibility waiver. Basically, this waiver states that he can adjust his status because it has been 15 years since his conviction for reckless endangerment. He has shown himself to be a good and moral individual and has lead an exemplary life since 1993.


I also have a compelling hardship waiver that uses medical, financial and personal statements that prove I would have profound hardships should my husband be deported from the United States.


Additionally, we possess an approved I-130 VISA petition which states that our marriage is bona-fide and allows Khalid back into the country should he be compelled to leave. This is important because we have been told this is one of the hardest documents to procure.


Today we received a notice from Homeland Security notifying Khalid of a Biometric appointment in Syracuse on August 27th at 8:00 AM. Biometrics sounds like a new aerobic routine but it is actually an appointment whereby Khalid's fingerprints and other vital statistics are documented. We may even be interviewed. This is a necessary step in the adjustment of status process.


After the appointment we may be left waiting for 6-7 months until they make a determination. Until that time we will be on pins and needles. It is entirely possible that they will deny the petition and waivers. In that case, we would be forced to reapply when-- and if-- Khalid is actually deported. Yes, that would mean the U.S. government would get an additional 1,500 dollars of our hard-earned money. Gotta love the capitalistic spirit!


The filing of the papers should stop any attempts at deporting my husband. I say "should" because we are dealing with the government, and basically, if they get it in their heads to do something--they find a way.


Because Khalid has an American wife, it should afford him some protections that other deportees do not enjoy. He has noticed some significant changes in how Homeland Security has treated him since being married to me.


But, in the mercurial winds of the U.S. immigration judicial system there is no way of knowing if any of this will do any good. During the entire duration of this precarious immigration situation it feels like we are tip-toeing through a minefield. We never know what small steps we take will result in explosions and detriment and what large leaps might lead to safety and freedom.

We are taking a gigantic leap of faith. What we need more than anything are prayers and good wishes...so please...add us to your prayers this week. Thank you!

Memorial #2: Farouk Abdel-Muhti

Farouk Abdel-Muhti in detention

Farouk Abdel-Muhti was a Palestinian immigrant who made Queens, New York his home. He produced radio programs that were critical of American and Israeli foreign policies. He was also out of status.

Upon being arrested at his home in Queens by FBI officials in 2002, Farouk was transferred from various detention centers, jails and prisons across the country. Transferring detainees multiple times is a common procedure for the Department of Homeland Security. The excuse made for this bizarre behavior is the significant overcrowding in detention facilities. The scope of these harsh immigration laws has made existing detention facilities burst at the seems. It is not unusual for detention facilities, designed for 300 individuals, to house 700 or more.

But a more insidious reason may lurk beneath the surface. Moving detainees multiple times makes it harder for family members, friends or even lawyers to keep track of or visit the detainee. Relatives are not notified when their loved ones are moved and even attorneys are not made aware their client is now incarcerated two states over. Without the support of family members, friends and legal counsel it is more likely the detainee will be deported.

The rate of arresting and incarcerating illegal aliens has expanding much faster than the contractors can build new detention facilities. These new non-violent "criminals" are often housed in county jails and federal prisons alongside dangerous and violent felons.

The following quote is taken from the book Targeted:Homeland Security and the Business of Immigration by author Deepa Fernandes:

"During his two-year detention, Farouk spent eight straight months in solitary confinement in a tiny York County jail cell with no light for twenty-three hours and fifteen minutes per day. He was subject to extensive interrogation and was often denied food. He stated publicly that he was repeatedly abused, physically and verbally. On the rare occasions he was allowed to visit a health clinic, Farouk was handcuffed and shackled. After two years and extensive pro-bono support from the Center for Constitutional Rights, a federal judge ordered that Farouk be deported, charged, or released. As with so many other cases, all the government could accuse Farouk of was being out of status--for which he was treated like a criminal of the worst order." (page 89 of Targeted by Fernandes)

Eventually, after significant pressure from supporters and the hard work of his lawyers, Farouk was released in 2004. He became a tireless activist speaking for social justice and human rights across the country.

Unfortunately,this is a memorial in the traditional sense because Farouk actually collapsed and died after giving a speech in Philadelphia about human rights violations in the U.S. and Palestine. Undoubtedly, the stress and abuse suffered within the various prisons and detention facilities he was held in eventually caused the heart attack Farouk suffered from on that fateful day. It is interesting to note that he was not treated for his heart condition the entire time he was in detention.

May we, who strive to follow humbly in his footsteps, never waiver in our determination to fight discrimination and racism wherever it exists. Whether is shows it's distorted face in distant lands or right here within the land of the "free"-- may we always have the courage to speak truth to power.

Cobblestone & Arbor

Recently I have been thinking of the worst case scenario. In my life, the worst case scenario would involve my husband being deported to India. This is not something I want to dwell on, but I have to.

Preparing for the worst is practical and necessary, but it is scary because there is the fear that thinking about the negative outcome is going to invite it into my life. You often hear life coaches telling you to imagine the positive--don't think about the negative. Just believe that the best is going to occur in your life and it will. If you focus on the negative you invite it to materialize.

I wish life was that simple. All you have to do is think positive thoughts and nothing bad will ever happen to you. Humanity can conquer all evils in the world by just thinking positive thoughts. Strife, death, and illness will simply vanish. Sigh......

I have spent a lot of time recently going over how Khalid's absence will affect my life. In addition to substantial spiritual and emotional strife, there will also be serious monetary concerns. Under certain conditions-- I should be able to cover most of my monthly expenditures, with about four dollars leftover.

This will mean I will be living from paycheck to paycheck, and if any large expenses pop up; such as car repairs or medical expenses I will be in financial trouble.

With that in mind I have to consider getting a second job. This fills me with trepidation because jobs are hard to come by, and the only ones that are available around here are retail. I hate retail jobs for several reasons. They don't pay well, require substantial extroverted skills that I don't possess and involve consumerism. Ick!!

So, I have decided to finally listen to some of my friends who have encouraged me (for years!) to use my artistic abilities to make extra money. With this in mind, I have decided to create watercolor paintings of beautiful houses, particularly old historic homes and B & B's. I have already started a series of colonial houses in Salem, Massachusetts. When the first one is completed I will officially open my new business called Cobblestone & Arbor.

Of course, this would still be a capitalistic enterprise..but it would be my own handmade goods I would be selling and not some manufactured, plastic commodity made by some far away factory workers who are paid 30 cents an hour!

Taking a cue from those life coaches, I will visualize my business as a huge success. Maybe positive thinking will work this time!

A Stinkweed by any other name...

There is a significant amount of information available from newspapers, books, reporters and personal accounts of immigrants to justify characterizing Homeland Security as being a racist institution. Some writers and journalist use felicitous words such as nativism or prefer to defend xenophobic policies by proclaiming them as necessary in order to safeguard American lives, but despite being cloaked in misleading semantics these dubious actions are obviously rooted in centuries of sublimated racism.

To paraphrase a popular cliché: a stinkweed by any other name still smells as sour.

This post was inspired, in part, by a recent New York Times article posted on July 25, 2009 entitled: Racist Web Posts Traced to Homeland Security.

An article appeared in a local newspaper about the DHS raid of a migrant farm in Western New York that elicited a rash of racist commentary, some of which were traced in an investigation to Homeland Security computers.

This is not the first time Homeland Security and their employees have been accused of racism. In 2003, two African American women were terminated from their jobs and replaced by two white men. Subsequently they placed a lawsuit against the agency charging it with discrimination.

Indeed, when reviewing the hiring practices of Homeland Security it becomes clear that Caucasians are preferred over minorities. Over sixty percent of employees are Caucasian*

Creating a workforce comprised of mainly white employees indoctrinated into American exceptionalism, the supremacy of Western civilization, xenophobia-- and who are not familiar with the lifestyles and vulnerabilities of an immigrant population they have jurisdiction over can easily translate into callous and racist acts. When these ideologies are institutionalized it becomes easy to blur the line between safeguarding American interests and crossing over into dangerous territory and engaging in blatant expressions of racism.

One has to wonder how much desensitization must occur in a workplace to render racist actions as commonplace and benign.

One such instance occurred in 2007. A Homeland Security employee wore a blackface/prison costume with long dreadlocks to work for Halloween. He was awarded a prize by Julie Myers, Assistant Secretary of Immigration and Customs Enforcement. After a significant amount of criticism surfaced after posting pictures on an internet site , she later apologized to the National Association of African Americans in DHS for the incident, but not before damage was done to the agency’s already tarnished reputation.

It should come as no surprise that Homeland Security participates in racism. The Immigration and Naturalization Service-- once an independent agency (now incorporated into the larger division of Homeland Security)-- has a long history of racist policies and comments made by officials. The following quotes are from a former Western Regional Commissioner of the Immigration and Naturalization Service in the 1980’s:

“Harold Ezell, was infamous for comments made about ‘illegal aliens’—that they should be ‘caught, skinned and fried.’ Senator Dennis DeConcini reportedly complained that Ezell used the term “wets”, apparently a shortened version of the pejorative term ‘wetbacks’, to refer to undocumented immigrants seeking to cross the Rio Grande.”*


There is presupposition towards discrimination and racism in an institution that is designed to function simultaneously as a public service agency that naturalizes the newest influx of mostly black/brown immigrants into American society and a militarized retribution unit that imprisons and deports the same group of immigrants. Militarization and public service do not make compatible bedfellows simply because they operate under different assumptions and aspire to dissimilar goals. One of the two must become dominant-- and it is obvious which one triumphed based on the large number of charges and lawsuits that have been filed against Homeland Security because of their aggressive and racists tactics.

The moral panic that ensued against Muslims after September 11th created ample opportunity to engage in government sanctioned racism. Despite the fact that the perpetrators were Arab Muslims, this racial profiling ensnared all black or brown minorities. This can be witnessed in the numerous workplace raids that target businesses that hire substantial numbers of minority workers. Unfortunately, many U.S. citizens, and green card holders have also been “mistakenly” lassoed in these raids and have been subjected to interrogations, detentions and sometimes even deportations simply based on the color of their skin. This posturing is also observable in the numbers of black and brown people who are detained and interrogated at airports.

Racism is also evident within the many rogue local police offices that enforce immigration law with Homeland Security’s blessings. Without provocation, many immigrants are pulled over in their cars by police officers and asked for documentation that proves they are in the country legally. Their only transgression is looking like an illegal alien: which normally requires being a black or brown minority. If they are unable to provide documentation they are locked up in jail cells. Such aggressive policies sanctioned infamously by Sheriff Joe Arpaio of Arizona are currently being investigated by the Department of Justice, but not until numerous abuses of power and rampant racial profiling have destroyed many immigrants lives.

We must stop concealing racist agendas under the pretense of national security. There is no evidence that indicates that immigrants, illegal or otherwise, commit more crimes than citizens. Many studies have showed the opposite to be true. We cannot hold entire groups of black and brown people accountable for the terrorist activities of a few degenerate individuals. Racism lives whether we label it xenophobia, nativism or ethnic cleansing.

To use another cliché in its original form: If it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, it must be a duck.



· (Source) http://www.citizenorange.com/orange/2008/02/photos-surface-of-ice-employee.html


Other sources:

http://www.azcentral.com/arizonarepublic/local/articles/2009/07/26/20090726dhs-suit0726.html

http://www.alternet.org/blogs/peek/67442/homeland_security_employee_wore_%22blackface%22_costume_at_work_all_day/

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/25/nyregion/25immig.html?_r=2

http://www.aclu.org/intlhumanrights/racialjustice/40069prs20090630.html

http://www2.tbo.com/content/2008/aug/18/me-land-law-amendment-targetsvestigesofracism/

A Clarification on my "memorials" of deportees

Recently, a reader contacted me about my blog post entitled Memorial #1: Ansar Mahmood. He was unhappy with a few things about my post: specifically the use of the word "memorial". In addition, he felt I was not doing Ansar justice by putting undue emphasis on his short residency in The U.S.

The entire note is as follows:

"hate to be pedantic... but those definitions are for 'memorial' as an adjective. You're using it as a noun. Mr Mahmood was shamefully treated. But you seem to be talking about him as if he were dead. As far as we know, he's alive and well and living in Pakistan. I just don't think you're doing him justice by talking of him as though his whole life were based on residency in the USA, and now all his promise and potential have been cruelly destroyed. They haven't - they're just happening somewhere else. The loss is America's, not his."

As to his first critique, regarding the use of the word “memorial” I will admit my mistake of using the incorrect "adjective" definition. However, there is nothing inherent within either definition that states the subject of the memorial has to be dead. In fact, the noun definition reflects more closely the actually purpose of the post: to remember the life of an immigrant that was unjustly treated. This is how the Miriam Webster online dictionary defines the noun of memorial:

“1: something that keeps remembrance alive: as a: monument b: something (as a speech or ceremony) that commemorates c: keepsake, memento”

I could have chosen to use the non-descript word of "remembrance" but that has no power behind it. Memorial is a "power word", it gets noticed: simply because it is normally associated with a death and/or a tragedy. Any writer worth his or her salt knows when to use a "power word" to get people's attention. All writers are manipulators of language: some are better at it than others.

In essence, the purpose of my post was to keep the memory of Ansar alive in the collective memory. There are thousands of immigrants being deported from America's shores yearly, each with their own unique story. Each year the numbers of deportations increase. Millions of taxpayer dollars are being funneled into this expensive "cleansing" and the American people have a right to know how this money is being used and to whom it is being used against. Unfortunately, most of these deportations are done secretly and only a handful of individual stories are known, written or talked about. Changes to immigration policy will only occur if people know something is wrong. Our immigration system is clearly broken!

I am attempting to take an abstract concept--deportation--and make it personal. Deportations do not happen to ideologies and concepts: they happen to individual people. Additionally, they do not happen just to the deportee, but to the family, friends and the community at large. To think otherwise is unrealistic. Any immigrant that comes to our country forges close relationships. Once a deported individual is sent away, those ties are oftentimes severed forever.

I never intended to imply that Mr. Mahmood was dead. But there are consequences inherent in becoming labeled a deportee. These consequences can result in actually physical death and/or-- what I refer to-- as "symbolic deaths." Bear with me, I assure you that I can explain.

There are serious ramifications of being deported --even once the person arrives in their country of origin. For instance, in countries like Pakistan, Haiti and many Middle Eastern countries once the individual is escorted off the plane by American DHS officials and handed over to the homeland authorities an even worse situation can unfold. In these countries, the deportee is oftentimes taken into custody, interrogated, abused and oftentimes thrown in prison.

In Haiti, for example, the majority of native deportees suffer from exposure, untreated medical conditions and starvation in Haitian prisons. Amnesty International has pleaded with American leaders to stop the unprecedented deportation of Haitian immigrants because of the gross human rights violations in the prisons there. For most Haitian deportees, being deported from America is a death sentence.

When Khalid is actually deported to India, the DHS officers will handcuff him and escort him off the plane and hand him over to Indian officials. These officials will look at Khalid's passport and see the word "deported" stamped on the first page. A likely scenario will play out in the following way: Khalid will be taken to a locked office within the airport and interrogated about the circumstances involving the deportation. Khalid will relate the long complicated story of his conviction, the fight through the immigration judicial system, his marriage to an American citizen and at the end of the struggle—being deported.

With any luck, maybe the officials will let Khalid go. Unfortunately, many Indian deportees find themselves rotting away in Indian prisons. These unlucky deportees are those who have no family ties in India and therefore no way to pay the extortion fee imposed on them by corrupt Indian officials.

Luckily, Khalid's brother should be in India at this time. His brother secured a 10 year VISA ( a VISA that allows unlimited entrance into the United States ) and commonly travels back and forth between India and the U.S. for training purposes. Hopefully, when Khalid is actually deported his brother will be in India and be able to travel to the prison, pay any fees required and Khalid will be allowed to accompany his brother to the safety of his home. Only then will Khalid be able to pick up the pieces of his life and start anew. For some Indian deportees the scenario is not so easy.

In conclusion, I was not trying to over-emphasize Mr. Mahmood's brief residency in the United States. I will not contradict the fact that many deportees can live happy, productive lives outside of American borders. People can live a good life in various countries all over the world. Despite myths propagated to the contrary, America does not corner the market on happiness, liberty and freedom. In fact, a recent study compared the relative happiness and contentment of citizens from various countries around the world, Americans ranked well behind individuals from Scandinavian countries. I will leave it to the reader to discern why, but it’s an interesting illumination none-the-less.

Ansar, like so many poor immigrants from unstable countries, wanted desperately to come here. He dreamed of arriving in this "land of opportunity". From his meager capital he obtained a green card and came to America. He secured employment and was even able to send some money back to his relatives. By all accounts, he thrived in his new environment and was content. It is not a stretch to say that his quality of life was significantly better here than in Pakistan.

That is why immigrants risk everything to come here. It is not my aim, in this particular post, to debate whether this naiveté and optimism is justified or whether it lives up to the hype. That is a subject for a subsequent post. It is only necessary to illuminate that America is the beacon of hope and prosperity for millions of downtrodden people across the globe.

Ansar came to America in the hopes of finding a better, more stable and productive life. However, when he was deported all this was destroyed. What he experienced was a "symbolic death" that is no less devastating. His hopes, aspirations, relationships and sense of security all “died” the day he was put on the plane to return him to Pakistan.

I do not believe that Ansar would take offense to my "memorial" I feel the only way that I can do justice to Ansar is to make sure that he is remembered. Indeed, the deportation of a good hardworking man like Ansar is a great loss to America. But to downplay the devastation of deportation is doing a gross injustice to the memory-- indeed to the living, breathing individual known as Ansar Mahmood-- and to the thousands of people whose lives are destroyed by deportation every year.

To think that Ansar, or any deportee, can return to his country carefree, unscathed, and simply pick up the where they left off is unadulterated ignorance. It doesn't work that way. I will continue to write about various deportees in my “memorials” to facilitate some empathy and understanding from a public who is largely unaware of their plight. I am giving voice to the voiceless.

There is a madness to my method…er...method to my madness.

Memorial #1: Ansar Mahmood

Ansar Mahmood in the Batavia Detention Facility

The Miriam-Webster online dictionary defines memorial as:

1 : serving to preserve remembrance : commemorative 2 : of or relating to memory

With this particular definition in mind I will periodically present the “memorials” of various people who have been deported by the U.S. government. Too often, the voices of these immigrants are quelled by the din of politics, concealment and flawed legalities. The only ones left to remember them are the family members and friends these immigrants have been forced to leave behind.

Memorials usually take place only when a death occurs. But in instances of deportation, holding a commemoration for these brave immigrants is appropriate—and even necessary. When a deportation takes place, the immigrant is ruthlessly ripped from the fabric of the American landscape—in silence and secrecy.

Such cruelty leaves a throbbing hole within the hearts of everyone involved. It is essential that these immigrants are not forgotten, because it is through the contemplation of memory and the awakening of regret that reclamation is facilitated.

The subject of my first memorial is an immigrant by the name of Ansar Mahmood. His story was well known in the Batavia detention facility when my husband was detained in 2004 and it was one of the first instances, other than my husband’s situation, in which I became aware of America’s war on immigrants.

Ansar was a young Pakistani who came to America as a result of winning a green card through an immigration “lottery”. The purpose of lotteries is to allow people from countries with low rates of immigration to come to the United States. The program randomly selects a few lucky winners from thousands of screened applicants who qualify for a green card.

Ansar worked hard as a pizza delivery man while he was in America and sent money regularly to his family back in Pakistan. Despite working many long hours and having little disposable income he was happy in his new homeland. He found the New York countryside to be beautiful and often took short trips to nearby picturesque destinations. Oftentimes, he took a camera along to take pictures of particularly beautiful scenes and send them back to his family in Pakistan.

It was on the recommendation of a customer that Ansar travelled to a reservoir and water treatment plant in the Hudson Valley. It was here that Ansar’s troubles began. On that day, the view was especially lovely as the sun shone brightly on the Catskill Mountains. He asked one of the guards if they could take a picture of him with the reservoir and the mountains behind him. The guard, taking note of Ansar’s accent, surmised that he was Muslim and labeled him as a possible terrorist. The guard notified the police who in turn notified immigration authorities.

He was interrogated by Federal officials who attempted to tie him to terrorist activities and accused him of plotting to poison public water supplies. After a lengthy interrogation, Federal officials had no evidence to back up their hasty allegations. However, in the aftermath of 9/11 and the resulting moral panic directed against Muslims, evidence was not necessary. They were determined to find something in Ansar’s background that warranted the deportation of a green card holder.

Officials found out that Ansar had helped a Pakistani couple find housing and obtain a car. Unbeknownst to Ansar, the couple had overstayed their VISA and was residing in the States illegally. Ansar was charged with harboring illegal aliens, which is a felony and a deportable offense.

I have no idea how they could assume that Ansar knew the couple was illegal. I know from experience that legal status is not something most immigrants are apt to disclose because they can result in stigmatization, shame and sometimes physical danger. But common sense was ignored in favor of only one goal: deporting Ansar by any means necessary.

Ansar tried to fight the deportation through the courts. He had many supporters and even a New York senator who supported him.

“It’s a disgrace,” said Senator Charles E. Schumer, who lobbied on behalf of Mr. Mahmood. “Mahood wanted to be an ideal citizen, and he’s the kind of person America should embrace. There is no reason he should be deported.”(New York Times, August 14, 2004)

None of this made any difference. He was placed on a commercial plane with two INS officials and deported to Pakistan. None of Ansar’s friends or supporters were allowed to say good-bye.

In memory of Ansar Mahmood who was deported on August 12, 2004. May he find peace and understanding wherever he may find himself—because he did not find it in The United States of America.

Sources:

http://www.chathampeace.org/old%20index%20the%20first%20web%20page%20use%20as%20back%20up.htm

http://www.redorbit.com/news/general/41654/pizza_deliveryman_hopes_to_stay_in_us/

http://www.nytimes.com/2004/08/14/nyregion/man-arrested-over-photos-after-9-11-is-deported.html

Shame and hypocrisy

There are a number of English words that I hate. For obvious reasons, "deportation" is one of those words. I also dislike the words "racism", "misogyny", "war" and "access". I'm sure its obvious why I hate the first three words, However, you are probably stymied by the word "access". Why would someone hate the word access? It's quite simple , I use the word fifty times a week in my job at the library, and can never remember how to spell it. I wrote it three times in this paragraph and spelled it wrong all three times. Thank Heaven's for spell check!


But there's another word that tops my list for the most distasteful -- and that is "shame". Shame and I have an intimate relationship. There was a lot of emphasis on "perfection" in the household I grew up in. There was a clear and distinct "wrong way" to do something and a "right way". This affected every activity from talking to an elder, washing the dishes and mowing the lawn. Something was right or it was wrong. Grey areas did not exist. I was always left guessing as how to do things the "right" way. Some things were easy to figure out, such as: don't hit anyone, don't pull the cat's tail, don't touch the stove, etc. But the "indistincts"-- the situations that are predominantly detached from moral or safety considerations and can be approached in a myriad of creative ways--those are the situations that perplexed me and caused me to feel shame. It also didn't help that the correct ways were always in a state of flux.

On the other hand, my parents seemed to know the absolute correct way to handle these situations and oftentimes I got the impression that I handled them the wrong way. The idea that dominated my household was if one veered even slightly from the true and correct path than disaster was imminent.

I do not think that my household was unusual in this strive for perfection. The idea of perfection and piousness is intricately woven into the fabric of American life. Blame our Puritan beginnings if you need an explanation. However, there is an inherent contradiction to all this perfection seeking. Far too often, this perfection and righteousness is only reserved for certain segments of the population.The wealthy and powerful are exempt from these intrusive and stifling restriction as they are free to exploit, demean and oppress millions of people all over the world, while poor, working class and minority populations are forced to conform to a unrealistic conception of morality and perfection.

I witness my husband struggling to deal with the negative affects of shame because of the immigration nightmare he is immersed in. The excessive conviction, not being familiar with American laws, the time spent in detention, and the deportation mandate are all factors that have caused shame. My husband has dealt with this emotion in a positive manner and has never allowed himself to wallow in self-pity, place blame or get angry.

But shame can work in insidious ways within the human psyche and no mater how constructively you think you are handling it it can become unhealthy. Early on, my husband and I had adapted to this shame by withdrawing: withdrawing from family and friends-- in an attempt to mask it . If we don't talk about, don't admit what’s going on we can forget it. But, it doesn't work this way.

Both my husband and I are extremely private people. Not because we have something to hide, but because that is how we were brought up and how our brains are wired. We are both devote introverts and absolutely abhor being the center of attention. So, its quite ironic that we should both be at the apex of an immigration judicial case that has caused a certain amount of controversy and frustration for the U.S. government. I oftentimes catch myself thinking about how often our names have come up within the bolted doors of Homeland Security, a senator's office or even possibly the Oval office --and shudder. There resides nothing within my -- my husband's personality or lifestyle that should have elicited such attention. Regardless of whether we wanted it or not--deserved it or not, we have the attention of Homeland Security.

Eventually, I grew tired of being rendered mute, frozen in shame and decided to speak about it: at work, at immigration conferences, with friends and with anyone who would listen. I even got over my substantial fear of public speaking and starting talking about it in college classrooms and conferences. In the beginning; my goal was distinct: to educate people about the current wave of xenophobia that is sweeping the nation and obtain some help for my husband.

But recently it has shifted slightly. Although I still want to educate people and encourage people to support immigration reform; while also helping my husband, I also feel the necessity to silence the shame that hovers menacingly in the background of our lives.

According to the U.S. immigration judicial system, the night my husband was threatened in 1993 he should have collapsed passively to the asphalt and let the individuals who menacingly approached him hit and beat and perhaps even kill him. This, in their eyes, would have been the "correct" and "righteous" solution to my husband's situation. This is nonsense. The natural reaction of any human to a life threatening situation is self preservation and individuals thus threatened will find any way to survive.

But, according to the U.S. government, apparently minorities and immigrants aren't granted this right.

Should my husband feel ashamed about what he did that night. Shame...no not at all. Maybe regret...but not shame. He did what he needed to do in order to survive. Should the U.S. government feel shame regarding the horrible way they have treated my husband? Absolutely-- without hesitation-- and don't waste a minute.

By the way-- another English word I despise is the word "hypocrisy".

Senseless

The word senseless has flickered through my mind during this whole immigration ordeal. Although it is completely pointless I keep trying to determine why Homeland Security is adamant about deporting my husband. What is the advantage of spending thousands of dollars and countless hours in order to deport him? How exactly is the deportation of my husband going to make America a better and safer place? What possible good can come out of deporting a husband, an employee and a tax payer? My husband is not a terrorist, a drug addict or drug dealer. He has never physically hurt or abused anyone! The man does not possess one mean, callous or disrespectful bone in his body. The deportation of my husband will not result in anything positive or good--it will only result in misery and strife.

And if they were so intent on deporting him, why didn’t they just do so the first time he was in detention in 2003? These are all questions I will never have the answer to—and it is driving me insane. Why in the world did the U.S. government allow him to adjust his status before the 2nd circuit hearing and then rescind it? Unfortunately, I cannot stop myself from pondering the reasons why this senseless situation is unfolding this way.

In addition to all these questions, I can’t help but think about everything Khalid has been through and how this situation has affected him mentally and physically. He has been separated from his family since the late 1980’s. I cannot fathom what that was like and how lonely he must have felt during these years. And now, in addition to everything else he has lost, he is now being separated from his wife here in the States. He has worked hard his whole life, even holding down two jobs while doing countless hours of overtime, training other people and taking any additional challenges his employer has asked of him. None of this has made a bit of difference.

Some people answer this question by saying that life just isn’t fair. No, life isn’t fair. But does that justify the horrible, wretched, inhumane things people do to each other? Life is all about distributing scarce resources and determining who gets a larger chunk of the pie and who is left fighting for the crumbs. The scarcest resource of all is love and the bitterest struggle: its procurement.

I am reminded of a wonderful Indian author named Arundhati Roy and her book The God of Small Things. If you haven't read it I recommend it highly. In this book she explores the nature of love and how it is artificially distributed in society based upon arbitrary designations of rank, wealth and power. More specifically the story centers around the tragic love story between an upper class Indian woman and a poor Untouchable laborer. A particular quote from the book comes to mind and I will share it with you now:

"They all broke the rules. They all crossed into forbidden territory. They all tampered with the laws that lay down who should be loved and how. And how much."

This quote has become quite poignant to me now. I realize that the problems our country is currently facing: including the debate about gay marriage, the excesses of greed, racism, sexism and the discriminatory immigration judicial system; can all be linked by this distribution of love-- and who deserves it and who doesn't.

So, here I am, sitting in my living room-- ironically watching a special on Michael Jackson and fearing that this will be the last day I will spend with my husband and wondering where our share of the love is.....

An Imperfect Love Story

One of the first questions I am always asked when I discuss my husband's immigration situation is; "how did you meet?" It goes without saying that this is predominately a gender-based question--meaning that woman are more likely to ask this then men. Generally, most men are not inclined to question me about personal matters-- unless I happen to mention that my husband likes cars or enjoys fishing. When those juicy bits are divulged inevitable questions arise such as; "What kind of car does he drive?", "What are his favorite fishing spots? or "Where does he work?" I will not indulge my feminist bias at this time and comment on these anomalies; which I could certainly do--at length. I will restrain myself by simply saying they fascinate me.

Khalid and I met on a local online singles group. I had been recently getting into the dating scene after a long hiatus and was extremely frustrated by the lack of compatible partners. After dating a dishonest accountant who was a recovering alcoholic, a scanky and obsessive local college professor and a boy-man who couldn't do anything before he consulted his mother, I was obviously skeptical about finding a good partner.

This predicament became jarringly obvious to me when a "friend" set me up on a blind date with a man, who can only be accurately described as my worst nightmare. We met at his parent's house, which should have been the first tip off that this would not end well. He greeted me with a barely audible "hello" and didn't talk to me the rest of the evening until I was preparing to leave. He looked like he had just stepped out of the cover of a 1980's heavy metal magazine, with dark, cork-screw long hair, tight leopard pants and a black t-shirt with a huge decal of a fire breathing, multi-colored dragon.

I don't know if my surprise and horror registered on my face...and at that point I wasn't in the best frame of mind to really care. In addition to his outdated appearance I also found out he was unemployed, didn't own a car and lived with his parents. Even today I wonder what my friend was thinking when she thought we would make a good match. The friendship, a conspicuously superficial one, expired in a slow and barely perceptible manner shortly after this blind date.

So, on a cool afternoon in November in the year 2005 , with trepidation and low hopes, I went to meet a new man at a local Dunkin Donuts. As a result of my horrible dating experiences thus far I told myself sternly that this would be the last time I would meet anyone from the internet or singles groups. If this meeting does not go well, this was it--I was done. I would go back to my cats, my books, my paintings; call it good and pretend I was content. I was so sure that the meeting was going to be a complete failure that I told this man that I had a previous engagement and could only meet with him for two hours.

Imagine my surprise when the meeting went well! We forged an instant bond and became so enrapt in our conversation that it was well over an hour before we ordered our coffee. I was smitten with his easy-going demeanor, humility, and engaging smile. Khalid admitted to me, months after our first meeting, that he had a goofy smile plastered on his face while he got up to order our coffee that day--and it lasted into the evening.

Despite our deep feelings for each other ours has not been a perfect love story. Relationships never are because they are always between two imperfect human beings. I am sensitive, emotional and have a slight tendency to over analyze (cough..cough). Khalid can be brutally direct, non-communicative, and stubborn. I like to worry, think and plan for the future, Khalid likes to take things as they come. These differences have resulted in conflicts in our relationship, but it has also lead to deep illuminations and understanding. Through it all I have learned that it really doesn't matter... love can be imperfect but still be as steadfast as the roots of an old gnarled oak tree and as pure as a hidden waterfall. Love breathes in the smoke, ash and offal of human imperfection. If nothing else, we can have faith in that.

Challenging the stereotype

Just when you think that there is absolutely no one on Earth who can understand what you are going through, the universe sends the unexpected your way. Khalid came to me in this fashion--but that is a story for a subsequent post. I am speaking now of a friend of mine. We have only met face to face once at an immigration conference in Chicago last April. My newly found friend was the bright spot in an atmosphere of chaos and confusion.

After the conference, we all went out to lunch and spent the rest of the afternoon talking. She is one of the rare individuals who can actually empathize with the predicament we are in because she has gone through the worst case scenario. Her husband was deported to Mexico many years ago, and after a few months of separation and anguish she followed: out of love, devotion and necessity--even though she is a bona fide, born and bred American citizen.

To get back to the main point, I was talking to this friend on the phone the other day and she was relating the comments of some of the people who attend her monologue: a performance piece that she presents across the States about the experiences of being a wife of a deportee. In well-meaning innocence some people express surprise that such an articulate, educated and talented young woman would find herself in such a dire predicament.

In translation, the speaker is actually asking "How could you have married a man who got himself deported?" This question simultaneously expresses a multitude of culturally entrenched stereotypes about both the presumed nature of the deportee and his wife. Fundamentally, people are not so much surprised that we are educated, thoughtful and creative but that we are seemingly normal and mundane. This is uncomfortable because this suggests that tragedy can happen to anyone, anywhere and at anytime. This was not the result of a character defect, bad karma or questionable judgement but the result of the intersection of racial and cultural stereotypes, political events and the unfortunate criminalization of immigrants in American society.

My friend and I-- and our husbands-- are not extraordinary. We do not stand out in society as unusual, wretched or scurrilous. We are just regular people just trying to survive in an ever-complicated world. Love called to us and we followed, aware that pitfalls, hardships and strife challenge even the strongest of relationships. Perhaps we were blind to the particular arduous path we choose but that does not deter us from forging ahead in love, in determination and in faith that somehow this will work out for the best. After all--that is really the only thing that any of us can ever do.

Dear Diary--I am the wife of an Immigrant

These are the musings of me, a wife of an Indian/Muslim immigrant who has been given a mandate of deportation by the U.S. government. Currently, we are still living together, safe, in New York..but we are unsure how long this will last. The truth is, my husband could be ripped out of my arms any time and stoically deposited-- like some unpleasant trash-- on the shores of a country he hasn't stepped foot in for over 25 years.

It is my hope, that through the recording of my thoughts, anxieties, hopes and disappointments that I put a human face on a contemporary American tragedy. The public needs to know how dysfunctional the immigration judicial system is and how it negatively affects immigrants as well as the millions of American citizens who depend and love them. This is a nightmare that effects Americans and immigrants equally but has been hidden from the public. I plan on changing that.

Who am I? I am a 41 year old Caucasian woman--imperfect, terminally naive, emotional and creative. I am tall, heavy-set and look and act young for my age--which is a rare source of pride for me--I feel having a young attitude is essential for living a fulfilling life. In truth--I am not anyone special but have been thrust into extraordinary circumstances.

I have always suspected that human beings are tested by seemingly insurmountable challenges in their lives--not just once, but multiple times. These challenges are meant to strengthen us--but only if we meet them head-on, follow our guts and break out of the narrowly defined molds we have created for ourselves. If we approach a challenge with our usual entrenched beliefs and outdated actions we will fail to meet and vanquish it. On some higher level I sense I am being challenged, not only to mature, fend for myself and stand up for my beliefs but also to question my culturally conditioned ideas--about morality, justice and power.

Wallowing in self-pity, and fears of bad karma and victim-hood are of scant help. Unfortunately, I have wallowed in every negative emotion since I was first aware of my husband's immigration nightmare --this has been my shame--and I fear--an affront to the strength, integrity and kindness I witness in my husband daily. It is a mystery to me how my husband has dealt with this catastrophe these past nine years with optimism and grace. I fail in this miserably and am intermittently immersed in anger, doubt, and anguish that wallows up occasionally in the cracks of my optimism. I try very hard not to show my anxiety to my husband and thus add to his substantial burdens, but it is very difficult due to my highly developed imagination.

As a child, I was very imaginative and creative. I was a daydreamer and an idealist. Still are-- for the most part. I was brought up as an only child in the relative comfort of a middle class upbringing. My father was a high school teacher in a suburban district and my Mom was a secretary/typist on and off. Money was an issue for the first few years of my life but as my father continued teaching in the same institution his salary increased. In school, I excelled in artistic endeavors and loved to read and my grades were adequate despite the fact that I seldom studied.

I was extremely shy-- so much so that I actually won a "Silence is Golden" award in sixth grade. I had a few close friends but never felt the need to surround myself with endless banter and small talk. I preferred riding the whims of my own mind in words and pictures. If I did talk it was only when I had something important to say. This is still true. The fact is, my up-bringing was normal. There were never any great hardships nor tragedies in my life. I had a stable family life. Any hints at the precariousness of my future were missing.

I dated a bit but none of the men I dated felt like a good fit for me--until I met Khal at age 38--in 2005. We were immediately drawn together. There resided in Khalid a tender heart,--an integrity and quiet strength that appealed to me--specifically because I did not see any of these desirable traits in any of the other men I had previously dated. He was steadfast, calm, obviously intelligent and educated, incredibly handsome and appealingly mysterious. He spoke and wrote perfect English, (which could not be said for the other men I had dated.) and I had assumed he was an America citizen by the way he carried himself and the absence of an accent. I fell in love with him immediately and felt the same depth of feeling emanating from him. He was the first man I fell deeply in love with...and the last. We were looking forward to a great future.