The Day that Needed Fewer Statements and More Listening

Yesterday was a day full of statements. The headline-grabbing, blatantly political move of the Biden Administration closing the border to people fleeing violence. The entirely predictable and equally staged reactions of Congresspeople, mayors, and other politicians. Even the flurry from immigrant rights groups, condemning the immorality, illegality, and harmfulness of this administrative action.

I knew people were looking to me and to us at KBI to weigh in, say our piece. Perhaps if we just had the right words, I thought, we might break through, might persuade someone to really consider the impact of this policy.

As I sat and read updates and analysis, those words didn’t come. So I did what I knew was most urgently needed: I walked out of my office and shared the news with the migrant families at our aid center. The people whose lives this decision would actually impact. I explained what we knew, what we didn’t, what it meant, and when we might know more. I answered a few questions and said I’d be available for more if people wanted to come up to me individually.

Four families gathered around me as I sat down. The only question they really had was “why?” And even to that, they knew I didn’t have an answer. Most of all, they wanted to be heard. Margarita* wanted to share about how deeply troubled she was. She had lived in the US with her husband, had a son, but moved back to Mexico 16 years ago. Her family had been content these many years, working hard to sustain their life, not even considering going to the US or asking anything from the US for their US citizen child. Until the violence and insecurity reached them. Until her husband was shot, they reported the crime but then fled, knowing that the report itself put them in even greater danger. And now they were running out of their savings. Her son, who has autism, was getting increasingly agitated with the instability of their life in limbo. Perhaps crossing the border would bring some relief, safety, and stability. But according to the day’s order, it would only bring greater anguish as their case wouldn’t even be considered. I didn’t have a statement for Margarita. And she wasn’t looking for one. She was looking to be heard.

What if President Biden and the Congresspeople and the mayors and the ordinary people in cities across the US had chosen to listen yesterday, and in the weeks and months leading up to yesterday, instead of preparing statements? What if they’d sat and looked into the faces of the three moms and a dad who surrounded me?

Perhaps they would be as speechless as I am. And yet as relentlessly hopeful. Because Margarita didn’t just share about their struggles. She assured me that she knew God was still present and with her and us. She said she saw God in me and at KBI and in every moment of her day. It’s because of that faith that she and her family decided to use some of their dwindling savings to make sandwiches for the families waiting out in the heat at the Port of Entry. “We may be in need,” she shared, “but they have a greater need. And as long as we have something, God invites us to share.”

As long as people like Margarita live in this world with resilient and generous hearts, I won’t give up believing that we can exist in a humane and just society. I won’t give up believing that we can build community from a space of abundance rather than scarcity. But the path there requires far more listening than statements.

In hope,

Joanna Williams
Executive Director
Kino Border Initiative