Blog Posts

I was not prepared when I opened Underground America: Narratives of Undocumented Lives. One moment I was sitting at my desk, and the next I was with Roberto, an undocumented immigrant from Mexico. I followed him as he moved from one underpaying, exhausting job to the next; working even harder once he had his own family. I was by his side when he received amnesty, but his family didn’t. They voluntarily left the country while he stayed behind to continue working to support them. Here Roberto recounts his own experiences, providing me a glimpse into his struggles and feelings of profound loneliness and loss.

After ten years of making a life for himself in the beach-front city of Santa Monica, California, Jorge Romero* was deported to Mexico, joining the ranks of nearly 400,000 other undocumented migrants removed from the United States this past fiscal year. Behind the record high number of deportations by the Obama Administration are stark, human stories of broken families and untold abuse suffered by those who attempt to return to their homes in the United States. Jorge, who left behind his cousin and father in Santa Monica, was one of those to brave the dangerous journey back. On the way, he was apprehended and grossly abused by the U.S. Border Patrol. This is his story, as recorded by humanitarian organization No More Deaths:

On the heels of an especially violent summer south of the border, well-known Mexican movie star Diego Luna came to Washington, D.C. in September, not as an actor, but as an advocate for the growing international campaign Stop Gun Smuggling: 3 Things President Obama CAN Do. Luna met with policymakers to promote measures that could curb the flow of assault weapons from the United States into Mexico, saving thousands of Mexican lives, while making U.S. communities safer. Some estimates suggest that as many as 2,000 guns are smuggled across the U.S. border into Mexico every day, and in Diego’s own words:

When Ana Pineda* left her small village in Nacaome, Honduras in 2009, she was full of hope: “I had dreams of going to the United States to get a good job and to help support my mother and father.” But her hopes were soon crushed when she was kidnapped by criminal gangs in Coatzalcoalcos, a coastal city in Veracruz, Mexico that is a frequent transit point for Central American migrants. “They brought me to a house in Tamaulipas, Mexico and had me there for four months, imprisoned along with other Central Americans, South Americans, and Mexicans. I was abused, terribly abused. Many of the others were raped, even the men. Thank God I was able to escape.”

Ciudad Juárez police officer Jose Alarcon fled Mexico to the United States in 2008 after a series of horrific events – he himself was injured and his partner killed in a shootout with organized crime, and then he was threatened by criminal gangs when he refused to accept bribes to overlook their activities.   Seeking refuge for his family, he sought asylum in the United States, but a Dallas immigration judge denied Alarcon’s request, ruling that this was a “risk that police officers are supposed to take.”

Last month, a congressional report noted that a staggering 70% of the weapons recovered in Mexico in 2009 and 2010— and submitted for tracing— originated in the United States, overwhelmingly from Southwest border states. The controversial and highly flawed ATF Operation Fast and Furious has drawn attention to not just the staggering number of firearms that flow over our southern border, but to loopholes and shortcomings in our policies surrounding firearms purchases that have enabled straw purchasers (people who claim to buy weapons for themselves, but then pass them on to criminal groups) and other gun traffickers in the U.S. to channel thousands of weapons to organized crime in Mexico.   

Calling for justice for their murdered or disappeared loved ones and peace for the nation, family members representing just a fraction of the 40,000 individuals who have lost their lives since President Calderon initiated his militarized crackdown against organized crime, crisscrossed Mexico in a week-long, 1,550 mile Caravan for Peace with Justice and Dignity. The caravan arrived at its final destination on Friday, June 9th, in Ciudad Juarez–a city dubbed the epicentro del dolor (epicenter of pain) by caravan leader Javier Sicilia, a Mexican writer and poet whose own son 24-year old son was brutally murdered earlier this year. 

Migrants’ rights defender Alberto Xicotencatl Carrasco painted this picture of Mexican society’s mixture of terror and denial in the face of grisly crimes and widespread human rights abuses committed against Central American migrants in transit through Mexico.  In late March, the Latin America Working Group Education Fund hosted a delegation of five courageous Mexican migrant rights defenders here in Washington to shed light on how policies and conditions on both sides of the border have contributed to a surge in violence against migrants, as well as an uptick in targeted threats and violence against those who promote and protect the rights of migrants. The group’s busy week in D.C. included meetings with the State Department, Congress, the Department of Justice, and the Department of Homeland Security. The delegates also spoke at public events held at the Washington Office on Latin America (WOLA) and the Women’s Refugee Commission (WRC) to educate D.C. advocates about the human rights situation of these transiting migrants— and steps that we all must take to bring about an end to this pervasive violence.

In 2008, as military operations in Ciudad Juárez surged, Josefina Reyes Salazar, an outspoken critic of pervasive violence against women, summoned her courage and determinedly denounced the militarization in her home state of Chihuahua. Not long after, her son Miguel Ángel was kidnapped by the military and her other son, Julio César, was brutally murdered. Josefina openly blamed the army for the slaying of her son and, despite persistent death threats, tirelessly voiced her demands for justice. In early 2010, Josefina herself was coldly executed by armed gunman on the outskirts of Ciudad Juárez.

Over the past few weeks, mass mobilizations and pointed criticism by groups and communities across Mexico have marked some of the most heated condemnation yet of the Mexican government’s increasingly unpopular military campaign to defeat organized crime. On Wednesday, April 6 thousands of people took to the streets in at least 20 Mexican cities to demand an end to the violence and impunity associated with President Calderón’s U.S.-supported “drug war” that has claimed over 35,000 lives. The day of protest has been described as a historic “sea change” in Mexican public opinion as well as an unprecedented rejection of the Mexican Army’s role in public security efforts.