who...me?

Saturday I went to the market to buy a pair of “camba” (pronounced with a long a like cAHmba) jeans – tight jeans with rhinestones. They are quite in style here. Arelis met me to help in the search and we felt quite elated after a successful buy. But in the midst of the celebration, we were stopped in an empty hallway by a police officer who demanded to see our documents and the reason why we were in Santa Cruz. I don´t carry anything on me (very stupid I know) since my 2 robberies. Arelis didn´t either, so we just had to insist that we are from the U.S. and are volunteers. He was convinced that we were exploited workers from Brazil. After much insisting (and eye-rolling and exasperated sighs) he finally let us go after giving us his number, making us call his phone so he would have our numbers, with the reason that we could call him if we ran into any trouble in the future. Turns out he was a _______ (fill in the blank with a word of your choice) who just wanted our numbers and may not even have been a real policeman.

That experience was frightening, embarrassing, and infuriating all mixed in with a sense of helplessness.

How outrageous, right? I mean, I was not doing anything suspicious, just shopping with a friend and contributing to society. At least I´ll never run into this at home. Oh wait, I won´t have trouble back home, but potentially thousands of people in the state that ends in “zona” will have to live in fear of harassment if a bill that was signed is not changed. The bill gives police officers the right to stop anyone they deem suspicious looking and request ID. The bill´s goal is to “identify, prosecute and deport illegal immigrants.” But it may open the door to racial profiling and huge abuse of power. Here´s an article that explains it more fully:
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/24/us/politics/24immig.html?hp

I am not from a border state (haha I am, hi Canada!) so I admit I do not understand the situation down there. Maybe I don´t understand the situation at a national, social level or at all, which you reader are free to think. But I made a friend 2 years back whose husband is an illegal immigrant. They have a young son together and both work long hours (6 days a week for the husband) to make a life as a family. His employers know he´s illegal, they just don´t ask questions – why? Because they can make him work long hours for a lower pay then they could someone else. They have tried multiple times to make him legal (she is a U.S. Citizen) but are always denied. So he can never go home to visit his mother (whom he is also supporting). Kicking him out would not benefit anyone. I don´t think his presence is hurting anyone.

I´m confused by a couple of things. How can a people that are so proud of their “freedoms and rights” be so quick and eager to deny those same things from others? Why are people who were born on one plot of land more important or deserving then people born on another? Who decides that? Imagination time: Think of your ancestors when they got off the boat. I myself am not picturing a clean, wealthy, educated bunch of Krols. They didn´t speak the language, did not know the culture, and chose to live in an area populated by immigrants from the same country. Yet they worked hard, thrived and made a new life for themselves and the generations to follow, because they were allowed. How can we take this opportunity from others?

Being away from home makes me realize that I am very happy that I am from the U.S. I will probably dance a little jig when we land in Miami in less than 2 months. But it´s not a blind happiness. We are not perfect and as hard as it is to admit that, we need to.