samedi 21 décembre 2019

from No More Deaths, No Más Muertes

Temperatures are plummeting in the Sonoran desert this week, reaching freezing and near-freezing temperatures at night, as winter now sets in.  The dangers posed by this intense cold are no less than those that come from the soaring summer heat.  Border enforcement continues to funnel migrants into desert corridors where, no matter what time of year, the extreme environment can cause death by exposure.

In conditions like this we have found water gallons frozen solid.  The patients we see are suffering from hypothermia and trench foot, as well as dehydration.  As the cold gathers around us this holiday season, we are responding by putting food, dry socks, and blankets in areas where people are walking through the desert.

As weather conditions intensify along the border, thousands of migrants are trapped in camps in northern Mexico, systematically being denied any chance for asylum in the United States.  No More Deaths volunteers are maintaining a presence in the desert 24 hours a day, 365 days a year to help with this crisis.

Please consider giving an end-of-the-year tax-deductible gift today to support the critical work of our volunteers in the field.  We can't do this lifesaving work without your support. You can give a one-time or recurring gift here.

Please see more about what we do by taking a look at our end-of-the-year newsletter here.  
Thanks so much for being with us, now and always.

With deep gratitude,
The No More Deaths/ No Más Muertes community

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samedi 14 décembre 2019

In Nuevo Laredo with asylum seekers forced to remain in Mexico awaiting first interview under new "Migrant Protection Protocol"

Young father and son, asylum seekers

Child receiving a toy


Pastor announcing holiday meal.

Listening to Pastor's announcements


Children waiting 

Volunteer handing pencil to child

Volunteer helping injured asylum seeker enter shelter

Children with newly received games and toys

first house, standing room only


lundi 13 mai 2019

from parents of Dr. Scott Warren, No More Deaths

May 13, 2019

Dear Sylvia,

thank you so much for signing the petition for our son, Dr. Scott Warren.  Will you take the next step and call the US Attorney's Office and demand they drop all charges?
Today we head to Tucson Federal Court for a pre-trial hearing in which our son's lawyers will argue that all charges stemming from his January 2017 arrest should be immediately vacated due to the selective nature of Border Patrol’s enforcement activities and that his arrest was a targeted act of political retaliation resulting from No More Deaths’ open criticism of Border Patrol’s human rights abuses.  Read more here.
In response to the growing evidence that Scott was clearly targeted by the US Border Patrol, we are asking supporters to call the U.S. Attorney’s Office and demand they drop all charges.  You can call today and every day between now and May 29th, the first day of Scott's trial.  For an up-to-date phone number and script, visit bit.ly/scottwarren.

Thank you for your continued support,
Pam & Mark Warren


From No More Deaths/ No Más Muertos, May 12, 2019





Call the US Attorney’s Office


From May 13th to May 24th, No More Deaths is asking all supporters to call newly appointed US Attorney Michael Bailey and demand that he drop all charges against Dr. Scott Warren

520.620.7300
Use the sample script below or create your own.  After you call, let us know and sign our petition.
I am calling to demand USDOJ drop all charges against Scott Warren. This is in reference to case 4:18-cr-00223-RCC-BPV.

Given the crisis of death and disappearance of undocumented people on the border, humanitarian aid workers must be allowed to perform their life-saving work without government harassment and prosecution. I oppose the intimidation of aid workers.  Humanitarian aid is never a crime!

mardi 27 novembre 2018

including Washington Post article about tear gas

Spent a week at a hospitality house in El Paso at Tepeyac Institut, a seminary, volunteering through Catholic Charities of the Archdiocese of San Antonio.  (El Paso is in an archdiocese with no Catholic Charities of its own.)
These children spent 5 days sleeping on floor before ICE brought them to Catholic Charities hospitality center at Tepeyac Institut in El Paso where they and their parent(s) rested up for their travel to sponsors (usually extended family members) somewhere in the United States.


Returning by bus this last Sunday, November 25, got a text that migrants had been tear-gassed over at Tijuana.  Today have received a Washington Post article worth putting here by way of link:



Only realized today that Tijuana is almost Aunt Janey.  Tia Juana would be appalled, wouldn't she?

Hope to go down to volunteer with Las Tías y Abuelas Enojadas in the Rio Grande Valley in December.  Maybe Tía Juana is among them?

https://www.washingtonpost.com/national-security/2018/11/26/why-tear-gas-lobbed-migrants-southern-border-is-banned-warfare/?noredirect=on&utm_term=.502174305cbc&wpisrc=nl_rainbow&wpmm=1



samedi 21 novembre 2015

I'm proud of Bernie's statement toward refugees.

In this hysterical xenophobia following the Paris terrorist attacks, it's good to be able to read the following from Seven Days, a weekly tabloid distributed from Burlington, quoting Bernie Sanders:

"During these difficult times, as Americans we will not succumb to racism," Sanders said.We will not allow ourselves to be divided and succumb to Islamophobia.  And when hundreds of thousands of people have lost everything.  And when hundreds of thousands of people have lost everything -- have nothing left but the shirts on their backs -- we will not turn our backs on the refugees from Syria and Afghanistan.

The full statements from him and Shumblin is at sevendaysvt.com.


vendredi 6 novembre 2015

The First Universalist Parish in Derby Line

V on a ladder painting First Universalist Parish on November 5, 2015, Derby Line, Vermont

Allen Yale, Derby Line, Vermont, UU church, Nov. 5, 2015, putting primer on bare wood on a wonderful November afternoon.
Yesterday I went to Derby Line and was able to help V and Allen paint, some; then went to the Haskell and was able to speak a little French with the library staff person, probably walking over into the Canadian side of the library.

mercredi 4 novembre 2015

from Barton, Vermont, November 4, 2015

 Are these different, these photos, from each other?  Are morning waves in Crystal Lake, moved by a northwestern soft wind, different from one another?  The leaves, the maple leaves?  Even Colleen, in whose house I wake, a third morning ... are we altogether different, distinct?  Twenty-five miles south of the Canadian border, beside a lake filled with Canadian geese trying to decide, I think, if they are altogether for the journey south, or not.  Route 5 traffic interrupts thoughts, but a still photo is a still photo still.  Early November.  Barton.

mercredi 16 septembre 2015

¡VIVA!

¡viva México!


Mexico celebrated 195 years of Independence in 2005
Parades, fairs, dancing, and fireworks mark the celebration of Mexican independence. (Image source. More about the photograph)

SLIDESHOW

View a slideshow of photographs from celebrations of Mexican Independence Day.
Every year on the 16th of September the President of Mexico addresses the Mexican people from the balcony of the National Palace with the modern version of the famous Grito de Dolores. He shouts Vivas! to the leaders of the Mexican Revolutionand ends with a cheer echoed three times by the huge crowds that have gathered: “Viva México!” His cry is echoed throughout Mexico by the governor of each state. The Grito, or shout, caps a day of festivals in Mexico City and other urban areas and ushers in a new year of independent Mexico. Perhaps most importantly, it reminds the people of the origins of their nation and those that fought and died so that Mexico may be free.
The Grito commemorates 16 September 1810, when a parish priest in the town of Dolores in the State of Guanajuato, Miguel Hidalgo, rang the church bells and called his parishioners to fight for independence. The movement for Mexican independence, officially proclaimed in 1821, had several precursors. In the eighteenth century there were over 100 small, ill-advised rebellions, but none came close to realizing the goal of a Mexico independent of Spain and rule by criollos, or people of Spanish descent who were born in the colony of Nueva España, or New Spain. The movement that began in 1810 was the first that attracted large numbers of the population, most notably the indigenous peasants.
Miguel Hidalgo was a criollo who was more concerned with the daily needs of his parishioners than their spiritual ones. He was tired of the constant poverty and mistreatment the people received from the peninsulares, or the Spanish administrators who came to New Spain for profit. Hidalgo introduced new industries such as wool weaving, carpentry, and bee keeping to help the economic condition of the peasants and started a reading group with like-minded criollos.

samedi 8 août 2015

The Interfaith Welcoming Coalition in San Antonio




So far as I know, the White House has not appealed the final decision for the Flores case.  The for-profit detention centers for women and children from Central America must shut down.  I'm going to try to post a short video here from the house in San Antonio where mothers just released from these detention centers were given respite and resources for their long bus journeys across the country to reach sponsoring family and friends.   It shows Melanie, who is barely 5 years old, dancing.  Her mother Yanira is nearby.  Yanira brought two teenage boys and little Melanie out of Guatemala, went straight to ICE to ask for asylum, and then was put into detention for several months.  Yanira and her children were asked to stay on at the hospitality house in San Antonio maintained by the Interfaith Welcoming Coalition to assist in helping others released from Karnes City and Dilley.     Below is a recent e-mail

Updates and Urgent Needs

We have recently seen a significant increase in the number of families being released and needing overnight hospitality. In the past two weeks, we have provided overnight housing to over 300 people. One night last week, we housed 56 people! We are very excited that more families are being released and hope this trend continues until family detention is ended. U.S. District Judge Dolly Gee recently found that family detention violates the Flores settlement - read more here!

As a result of this increase, we have a high need for volunteers at La Casa. We have four shifts - morning, afternoon, 7:30pm-11pm, and overnight. We have a new full-time volunteer through the Mennonite church - Luz Varela. We are very happy to have her! She has been here a week and has already become a vital part of the work we do. She will be at the house in the mornings and evenings this week to train new volunteers. To sign up to volunteer with Luz, please email sanantoniowelcome@gmail.com with your preferred day and time. If you are not fluent in Spanish, daytime volunteering is a great option. Morning and afternoon volunteer times are flexible.


 
Copyright © 2015 Interfaith Welcome Coalition, All rights reserved.


Our mailing address is:
300 Bushnell Ave.
San Antonio, TX 78212
sanantoniowelcome@gmail.com
                                                 

samedi 1 août 2015

Poem found at northern border, a prayer for women and children detained at the southern border:

Aqui en la biblioteca de un pueblecito, Barton, Vermont,  donde un archivo guardado el año pasado todavía está en la computadora,  yo lo pongo aquí para las mujeres en Tejas que están, con sus niños, carcelados aún que ellos no son illegales.  No son illegales porque ellas fueron inmediatemente despues de cruzando la frontera a la migra, los oficiales de ICE, para pedir asilo.  87% passaron el "credible fear test," pero sin embargo estuvieron pusos en los centros de detención en Dilley y Karnes City, Texas donde han tendio quedar por tan mucho como un año.  Tienen que pagarfianzas grandes, como $10,000 (U.S.) -- todo esta sistema nueva es muy, muy rentable para los dueños de las prisiones!

But now with the Flores case decided, these prisons are to be closed!  We are hoping now that the U.S. Federal Government, or Obama -- as some people call it -- will not appeal the decision of the Flores Case.

I was privileged to work as a  volunteer in a hospitality house in San Antonio, Texas, this spring; I was honored to meet many, many mothers risking their very lives to bring their children out of the drug-cartel-controlled realities of El Salvador, Guatemala, and Honduras.  So the prayer I've found up here very near the northern border, near Quebec, is for these many women and children whom I was able to meet and for all the thousands whom I was not able to meet. We don't have to be Catholic or even Christian to appreciate this prayer from Pax Christi and share its hope for "a society of justice."


Prayer for Our Immigrant Sisters and Brothers



Blessed are You, Lord Jesus Christ.
You crossed every border
between Divinity and humanity
to make your home with us.
Help us to welcome you in newcomers,
migrants and refugees.

Blessed are You, God of all nations.
You bless our land richly
with goods of creation
and with people made in your image.
Help us to be good stewards and peacemakers,
who live as your children.

Blessed are You, Holy Spirit.
You work in the hearts of all
to bring about harmony and goodwill.
Strengthen us to welcome those
from other lands, cultures, religions,
that we may live in human solidarity
and in hope.

God of all people, grant us vision
to see your presence in our midst,
especially in our immigrant sisters and brothers.
Give us courage to open the door to our neighbors
and grace to build a society of justice.


vendredi 12 septembre 2014

Hello. I've found a way into the blogspot again. I'm still at the border. Yesterday crossed to Stanstead. But it's a story of something that happened in Philadelphia that I want to tell. (I'll have lunch first.)

(It's well over a month later, now. Long lunch. Hope it was enough to eat. Hope it was more than $1.00 could buy.):


So here was that Philadelphia story: We were walking along, crossing a street, when a young man, African, I think, reached the corner having crossed the perpindicular at the same time as our group of four. He was on crutches and walked as though newly using them.

He asked for money for something to eat. I won't try to say exactly what he said, but it was a simple sentence. It did not quite sound like English, though. Maybe he said, "Something to eat."

This is not really a story. This is just telling how I stopped and searched for a dollar. The others went on ahead, quickly. One turned back to make some kind of face at me, something that might have meant, "Poor you. You're such an easy mark."

O.K., so I found a dollar. But in return for the dollar this young man on crutches, perhaps in pain, perhaps hungry, had to listen to me tell him, "This won't work. You need more help than this. You need help from social services...."

He just looked at me. I'm sure he didn't understand me. He tried to say "Thank you," and walked on, probably confused, probably in pain, certainly no closer to a meal with my $1.00 than he'd been before he asked.

I caught up with my party. The child among us said, "He didn't seem very grateful." I told her that wasn't what concerned me.

It's many months later, now, when I'm finally finishing this Philadelphia story. I've wondered often about this young man. How did he get hurt? Was he a newly arrived refugee? Was I right to think he was new to English? Was it really awful of me to fuss at him in exchange for the measly $1.00, talking to him like a child, saying he had to find a better way?

The others chided me. Then they let me pay for their various drinks and snacks. It came to nearly $30.00, though we barely had anything.

I hope he's all right. I always think of him with embarassment for myself, for those with me, and for a city where -- if it's the case -- a young man on crutches has to beg for something to eat.

samedi 14 décembre 2013

How I learned something in half the time

The clock on kitchen wall here is about a half hour behind time. It probably needs new batteries, but I haven't felt like finding a ladder or standing on a chair to replace them. I don't mind it too much, having to add the half hour.

Last night, though, I remembered how someone in Quebec told me that one of the Canadian provinces is a half-hour different, not a whole hour. I tried New Brunswick but it wasn't. It's Newfoundland and Labrador. And that's one province, not two. Now you know.

Newfoundland is where Celtx has its headquarters. Celtx is a play writing platform I've used for a long time.

A friend is going to Quebec City for New Year's. I can't do that, but I'm thinking how nice it would be to see the Rio Grande Valley again, walk across the river to have a cup of coffee in Mexico.

samedi 23 novembre 2013

ENTREZ/ TENGA BUEN DIA

Cold spell the week before Thanksgiving and Hannukah

(which won’t happen for another 80,000 years
I learn this morning still under covers -- radio)

This the second day of it. Two Jehovah Witnesses ignore “Entrez” (where did that come from?) but give me literature and wishes for a good day, in Spanish, then hurry on to witness elsewhere.

Outside neighbor’s back door their dog the color of their house but with bright orange collar sits waiting in the hope it will open. Entrez in dog would do him well, do him up brown, as the old expression went; but they’re away to work. The door will not open. He seems to come to accept this, walks down the deck steps, but soon forgets and goes again to sit at door, as if he cannot think of anything else to do. (It is colder than the thermometer, which of course he cannot read, tells.)

Yesterday the first day of it. I, like him, was locked out and in only my stocking feet, the cold with light rain coming. I managed to break in to the garage, get into my car, drive to some good woman’s house to be given poached eggs (from her backyard chickens) and the wherewithal (what a wonderful word) to make it through the day until neighbors (these with the brown house and brown orange-collared dog) could let me have the key they keep to this house where I’m staying by the grace of its owners.

I thought long for the animals all around who have nothing but their coats when the cold comes. I hoped to keep that awareness for them, even if I cannot bring them in, as I was brought in. I am thankful for this second day to be inside, to be mindful for the animals outside, especially now the neighbors’ dog who’s the color of their house but with a bright orange collar. This ends with me taking an old quilt over to offer the dog some cover

but first I ring the doorbell to soon learn it is not as I thought. The mother is home; the dog, inside, now, at her heels, is a she. I return the key. I bring the old quilt back with me.

May every creature fare as well in this cold spell
as we, the dog with orange collar and I,
this week before Thanksgiving and Hannukah
(coming, wondrously, together.)

mardi 12 novembre 2013



Little Rock, On the Way Down

[the 15 minute spill]



"Racism is not about bad manners, but a system of privilege, discrimination and brutality embedded in American society and across its institutions that operates to exclude, demean and restrict. It does not need a pointy hood and burning cross to work ...." from article, "George Zimmerman and the American Way," Gary Younge, The Nation, Oct. 7, 2013.


Smokers of course spilled out to be yelled at by bullying driver that he’d told us where to go but hadn’t 1:00 o’clock am October 24, 2013 a few of us but several in line tickets ready ready to board bus so he yells at them too to get inside like an old time white overseer yelling at them without saying anything at all in normal human tone and so with varying looks of confusion the line becomes those several, mostly women who are tired and confused and so very tired of being mistreated going where they can only guess he wants them

But one got inside the bus, I guess what she thought the bully meant by inside because when I’m back inside myself beside this non-stop talker

This really mean bus driver steps up in the coach to yell out, “Who got on this bus? It was a woman! Who was it? You’re not riding my bus! You’re not riding my bus.”

(Later when I tell Greyhound I forget to mention he thinks it’s his bus.)

The guy beside me gives me the time: 1:05 am. I write down the bus number. His bus number, but he’s no badge on vest with his driver number or name. The guy, Tom Something, starts mumbling how the driver has every right to do anything he wants

Only later will I say, “The Klan thought they had the right to lynch people, too, but …”

But by that time the woman behind me has heard enough of my protest since I didn’t do anything at the time, at 1:05 am, either, as none of us did

Because there she is, following him to the front, a young woman, yes; a woman, yes; with gray flannel hoodie covering much of her face but yes, she’s a woman – he knew that – and she doesn’t speak, even now, but is only able to moan a little, following behind him, him yelling the whole time that she’s not going to ride on HIS bus

And then we’re gone, as quickly as these who were in line are let on

And nobody speaks as the wheels start turning

Until, at each stop afterwards, the women do; the men watch; the women say things like, “It was cruel.She ran into the bathroom, crying; she didn’t have any money; it was her first time to ride the bus.

Oh, one young androgyne says, “He couldn’t have done that to me, because I’m military.”

So lovely, this one, but s/he didn’t stand up except to speak in front of these male passenger who listen, during subsequent stops, listen. And always back on, I have to listen to the fat born-again Tom Something. say the driver had every right

And I have to leave that bus number in a book I left on board

But I came off with “Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander” in my mind, and “George Zimmerman and the American Way” in my back pack (Save The Nation)

And the driver’s name, then a number to call, then long days trying to write or call Greyhound so that finally I could tell what he did, and they let me raise my voice in telling it and they let me mention all of what can happen to a young black woman with no money at a locked-up station in dark Little Rock and they let me tell them everything I could, even that I was ashamed of myself and all of us

Or anyway a young woman did, the same young woman who sent me a form letter thanking me for taking time out of my busy schedule to report an abusive driver from Memphis to Dallas

But it’s the American Way, you see.

Nearly three weeks later, I still wonder what happened to this young woman. I still feel guilty that not a one of us stood up for her in time to save her from a lonely and possibly dangerous night and, worse, the knowledge that she can be excluded from a bus ride she paid for, that she can so easily be denied the freedom of movement.

I'm still looking back at "George Zimmerman and the American Way", article by Gary Younge in the October 7, 2013 issue of The Nation. I'm still waiting to get a copy of Thomas Merton's Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander. My own.

I'm still wondering if Article 13 of the Declaration of Human Rights is applicable to this of what happened in Little Rock on the way down.

Article 13 of the Human Rights Declaration

I discover today is "Freedom to move from country to country." Thus I begin using this blog spot I sat up years ago but never used. I think I didn't like the title, after all. But this will do. It's right enough. I recently returned to Texas from Vermont. There's something I've been trying to tell about that happened on this trip. It's important enough to put somewhere. I'll put it here.