domingo, 14 de mayo de 2017

Discovering My Passions

But I Don´t Know What My Passion Is!

Ten years ago, I was in Jesus Christ Superstar in at a local theater.  While trying to psychologically understand the characters, the director reflected, "Who takes 30 years to understand their passion?"

He was talking about Jesus, of course.  But I was ready to raise my hand.  I was knocking on 30´s door, and had no idea what exactly I was passionate about.  There were topics I was more interested in than others, of course.  But a driving passion?  Nope.

Maybe some people are just born knowing what they are passionate about, like Thom the Director.  Maybe some people have a pretty good idea, but are just waiting for the right moment (like Jesus, I´m guessing).  Then there are people like me, who feel like we´re muddling through life, vaguely interested in all kinds of things, but not on fire for any one subject in particular.

No worries.

Take one of those interests, and pursue it.

I´m in the process of pursuing a few interests.  And I´m discovering quite a lot about myself along the way.

Why Am I Doing This?

After another day of having "practice the flute" hanging over my head on my personal checklist, and stressing out all the while I wasn´t getting it done, I stopped to ask myself, "why am I doing this?"

I don´t really know.

Now, don´t get me wrong--back in January, I listed "getting better at the flute" as one of my New Year´s Resolutions.  Through a number of coincidences, I found a marvelous flute teacher, and I really am enjoying the process of improving my skills.  But, instead of simply dreaming of being better, this is the part where I drag out the blood, sweat, and tears and actually work on improving.  But why am I investing all this time, energy, and money?

I can´t really say.

I have no concrete goal.

But that may be a good thing.  Eight years ago today, I sat down at my computer and, on little more than a whim, and began this blog.  Over the last eight years, I´ve discovered that I really enjoy writing.

Then I found out that I really enjoy writing about Mexico.  In fact, I´ve come to the point that I joke about being evangelical about Mexico.  I say that jokingly, but I really do want others to appreciate Mexico the way I do.  Or, for those who may never appreciate Mexico, I like having a means to explain why I love living here.  

Furthermore, I´ve met some of my best friends through  this blog.

Thanks to this blog, I´ve helped a number of people transition to life in Mexico--which spurred another project, SaltilloExpats.

Thanks to this blog, I´ve submitted articles to other sites and magazines.  Some even pay me for it!

I´ve read that 85% of blogs sputter out.  This one is still going.  And, much like with my flute lessons, I´m not exactly sure why.

I didn´t start out with any goal in mind.

I just thought I´d enjoy it.

And I still do.

So here´s to another eight years!

At the End of the Day

Some projects sputter out, some we continue to work on.  Sometimes projects aren´t always fun, but soldier on!  (Trust me, I´m getting tired of playing endless variations of scales in the key of G--but I know it will pay off eventually.)

If, overall, the project is enjoyable, continue.  The farther we go down a path, the more avenues we´ll find to persue.  Who´s to say where any particular adventure could lead?

I never thought this blog would lead to much of anything practical.  But, thanks to this blog, I have started to organize meetups for the English-speaking foreigners in Saltillo.  Yesterday, twenty of us went to a baseball game together!  Sure, I´m not saving the world, but getting people together to explore unfamiliar surroundings (and to ward off loneliness) is good for all of us.

Who´s to say what else I may be doing, thanks to the influence of this goofy medium, in another few years?

The adventure is in the journey.

So keep at it, whatever your journey may be.

Still not sure what your passion is?  Start a project, any project.  Complete the project.  And see what other projects may grow from it.

To paraphrase Paw Patrol, "No project is too big (or for that matter, too small)!"

Passions don´t need to earn us money.  (Although that would be nice.)
Passions don´t need to excite anyone else.  (After eight years, my husband still doesn´t understand why I spend so much time on the computer.)
Passions don´t need to be easy--or even achievable.

They just need to be pursued.

So go chase that dream.
Or, in my case, run away with that whim!


Need Additional Food For Thought?

Ten years ago (when Thom the Director challenged me), I stumbled upon What Color Is Your Parachute?  It´s a step-by-step guide to help people consider about where their passions are.  While it didn´t give me any concrete goals to shoot for (like the career-changer it claims to be), it was an excellent starting point.

Interested?  Click on the picture to read more about it, or order your own copy!

martes, 9 de mayo de 2017

Learning Geography

Today I overheard my five-year-old belting out, "I´ve got Hawaii!  I´ve got New Mexico!"

Yes, my kindergartener knows his states (well, some of them)--and he doesn´t even live in the United States!

Last summer, I was at a garage sale, and came across The Scrambled States of America card game.  It´s based on a children´s book of the same name.  (I haven´t read the book.)  But I picked up the card game, as I´ve been looking for a states puzzle for my daughter (who´s in second grade), so she could start to learn her US states, as she´s not going to be drilled on that in school here.

We played it last summer, and it was a hit.

Last summer, it was a little too difficult for Joey, who had just barely turned five.  But now that he´s almost got kindergarten under his belt (and therefore knows his letters, and can count, etc.), he´s able to play on his own much better, with minimal help from me.

How to play

Each player has a set of five state cards.  There´s a stack of question cards.  On each turn, a question card is turned over, and everyone has to find a state in their hand that starts with the letter N, or touches 5 other states, or is blue, or is the closest to Missouri.  (Each player gets a US map for reference.)

The first player to answer the question correctly gets to keep the card.  The person with the most cards in the end wins.

Now, normally, the second-grader wins by a pretty large margin.  However, there are some questions, like, "which state is blue?"  or "Which state is wearing something" that are easy for the not-quite-literate set to answer correctly.  Futhermore, the "which state is closer to [insert state name]" questions aren´t timed--the person who has the closest state wins, so slower players get a shot, too.

For younger kids, this could be frustrating.  (And it has been for my own little guy.)

But he keeps hanging in there.

And it´s paying off, because he knows the names of a number of US states, and is getting an idea of North, South, East and West, and the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans!  I´m pretty impressed.

I think I´ll have to make a Scrambled States of Mexico!


Want a Scrambled States of America for your own?  Click on the picture of the game box shown above, and an additional browser window will open and connect to

Or, better yet, find an independent toy store or game store in your town, and if they don´t have it in stock, I bet they´d be happy to order it for you.  That way, your money stays in your community.

But if that´s not an option, I can hook you up here.

lunes, 24 de abril de 2017

New Beginnings--or Final Sprint?

For April, the South of the Border Bloggers decided that their monthly blog hop would have the theme of "New Beginnings".

Really?  New Beginnings?  I´m just not feeling it.

Now, I love new beginnings as much as the next person.  But my personal calendar of new beginnings does not coincide with nature´s calendar.  (Although, as an aside, I am loving that I live just barely north of the Tropic of Cancer, so I do get to enjoy Spring bursting forth.)  Furthermore, as the heat cranks up this time of year, no one has the energy to start new goals and projects.  At least, I don´t.  

But, let´s not kid ourselves--I´m really just counting down the weeks until school gets out.  Twelve long weeks.  Let´s take a deep breath, and run with all our might though this home stretch!

Thinking about it, when do I celebrate fresh starts and new beginnings?

  • Summer vacation
  • the beginning of the school year
  • October (oddly enough--it gives me time to get used to the new school schedule and make my own plans!)
  • Advent
  • New Year´s
  • Lent  
But Spring?  For the reasons listed above, I´m just not feeling it.  

However, last week, I was shaken out of my complacency.  What happened last week?  Right, Easter!

I´m a big fan of Easter.  I always have been.  But fifteen years ago, my appreciation of Easter reached a new high when I discovered the Easter Vigil.  Why?  

The Easter Vigil--at any Roman Catholic church throughout the world--is always started with a bonfire.

Bonfires are one of my favorite things.  

Bonfire + Easter celebration?  I was sold.  

This bonfire is a New Fire--a symbolism of how we´re all reborn, how life starts again, and Christ´s resurrection makes a fresh start possible for each of us.  Then, throughout the service, Father Gustavo kept mentioning this new beginning, the freedom we have to start over.  The readings reiterated how God wants us to return to him and start over.  

All these fresh starts kept smacking me in the face.  

Renuevame Señor, con tu Espiritú
Renuevame Señor, con tu Espiritú
Renuevame Señor, con tu Espiritú
 Renuevame, renuevame, Señor. 
//Y dejame sentir
 el fuego de tu amor
aquí en mi corazón, Señor//

 Renew me, Lord with your Spirit
 Renew me, Lord with your Spirit
                           Renew me, Lord with your Spirit
                           Renew me, renew me, O Lord

                                 //And let me feel
                                 the fire of your love
                                 here in my heart, O Lord// 

OK, I guess I needed a new beginning more than I realized.  

I´ll work on enjoying this season and savoring every day--not just racing to the finish line that is this school year.  

martes, 18 de abril de 2017

Free to Live Life--Not Worry About It

-The Catholic Women Bloggers Network decided that their blog hop for April would answer "How My Faith Helps Me Worry Less."

Oh, man--this topic was made for me!

When I was a kid, I was anxiety-riddled.  Had they diagnosed kids with anxiety disorders back in the day, I might have qualified.

OK, maybe.  I was still able to function.  Most days.  But I do remember that we had gym class twice a week in 6th grade, and toward the end of the year, I would regularly get early symptoms to panic attacks--shortness of breath, increased heart rate--while standing in line, waiting to go into that dreaded gym.

Or, when I was 10, I was so traumatized by the thought of getting a shot that I spent many sleepless nights worrying about it.  That, and decided to start plucking my eyebrows to get myself used to the pain of that dreaded tetanus booster--despite the fact that I knew I didn´t need the booster for another 5 years!  "Only 5 more years, and I´ll have to get that shot . . . only five more years" . . . as the tears rolled down my face.

Or the summer I spent the entire summer flat on my back, reading on the couch.  Partly, it was because I liked to read.  Partly, it was because I was afraid of going outside as one of the neighbor boys would ride past on his moped a few times a day.  Whenever he saw me, he felt compelled to honk and shout at me--not complementary honking and shouting, of course.  

Worry and insecurity.  Those symptoms dominated my childhood.

I was confirmed when I was thirteen, and went through most of the confirmation process believing Conformation to be a personal acceptance of the faith I was brought up to believe.  Taking the faith I was raised in and professing it as my own.  A Protestant Bat Mitzvah, if you will.  I took it seriously, agreed that "yes, I believe this" and, more importantly, "yes, I WANT to believe this."  As an adult, I was relieved to know that there is a bit more to Confirmation than that.  Nonetheless, it was an important step in my faith development.

Like I said earlier, I liked to read.  When I was fifteen, I decided that I was going to read through the entire Bible.  And I did.

Now, most people get stuck not long after Exodus.  The books of Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy are pretty much a list of rules and regulations.  While I didn´t read those books avidly, they changed my life.  Reading about all the sacrifices that the Isrealites had to make for every single sin they could possibly commit, Christianity--and most importantly, Jesus--began to make sense to me.

Now, don´t get me wrong.  I thought I had it all figured out.  I had been confirmed, after all.  But, after reading all those rules and regulations, it suddenly became clear why Jesus was necessary, why exactly he died, and why it is that we don´t have to make those sacrifices to be made right with God anymore.

Jesus did it all already.  All those sins that are recorded in those books--and so many of them are so off-the-wall it wouldn´t occur to most of us to think of anyone committing those acts--are wiped clean by Jesus dying on the cross.  And all we have to do in return is to believe and follow him.

Or, as Mary said to the servers at the wedding in Cana, "just do what he says."

In comparison to what he did for us, that isn´t much to ask of us.

While this revelation made my faith more profound and more understandable, It had a tremendous impact on my anxiety and insecurity issues.  Understanding my faith better liberated me--all of a sudden, I wasn´t plagued by worry, or consumed by anxiety.

Of course, I was in high school, and still cared what others thought of me, but not near to the extent that I did earlier.  More importantly, this revelation helped me accept that certain issues are out of my control.  Accepting this, I was able to live my life instead of worry about it.

Knowing better who God is and who Jesus is made it possible to accept that I am not in control.  And, knowing them, I realized that that´s OK.

Now, more than twenty years later, people who know me remark about how laid-back I am.  I joke that I barely have a pulse.  But that wasn´t always the case.  I used to be a high-strung, Type A.  Some think that moving to Mexico mellowed me.  There may be a lot of truth to that.

But if I hadn´t realized who God is and why Jesus died, Mexico would have broken me instead of mellowing me.

Every day is another step of faith.  I can take those days and trust.  Or I can pretend that I have control of my universe and unnecessarily stress myself out.

Trust seems harder.  But it really is so much easier.


For those reading this, who are still stuck being a big ball of worry, I wish I could explain this better.  Pray.  And if you comment, I´d love to pray with you.  (Even if you don´t comment, I´ll pray with you.)  It sounds simplistic, and maybe it is, slowly but surely, those worries that turn into prayers do get resolved.  We put those worries into hands more capable than ours.  And when we give away those worries to God, we don´t have to hang onto them ourselves.

Trusting those hands is tough.  But God has proven time and again that He is trustworthy.  (Even thought he´s God and he certainly doesn´t have to prove anything to anybody.)  But because he wants us to trust him, he´ll continue to prove himself trustworthy.

God lets us live life instead of worry about it.


Other reflections on "How My Faith Helps Me Worry Less" are on the Catholic Women Bloggers Network blog hop for the month of April.

domingo, 2 de abril de 2017

Destination: Veracruz

The port of Veracruz (otherwise known as Veracruz, Veracruz) is one of my favorite cities in Mexico. When I lived in Puebla, we drove the five hours to Veracruz about once a month, leaving after Mario got off of work and arriving about midnight.  We´d first stop at El Gran Café La Parroquia and have a café con leche under the stars while watching the cargo ships in the port.

Taking the kids this time, the malecón (boardwalk) is still the best place to enjoy Veracruz.  The main reasons for this:  nieves and café con leche at the Parroquia are both very near the malecón.

Café con leche at El Gran Café La Parroquia is a bit on an institution in Veracruz.  One waiter brings a tall glass, filled with just a shot of espresso.  Then they ring for the milk man, who comes to the table armed with a kettle of steaming milk.  He then tops off the glass.  Mexicans generally prefer their coffee insanely sweet.  So don´t be shy--go ahead and add those three generous spoonfuls of sugar, and enjoy the Parroquia´s café con leche as it was meant to be enjoyed.

Nieves (sherbets) are Veracruz´s other taste sensation.  Decent sherbet is easy to find throughout the country, but the jarochos take their sherbet to a whole other level.  Furthermore, they have flavors that aren´t found readily elsewhere.  The nieve stands are happy to combine flavors in one cup, and that really is the way to go.  Try a coconut and passionfruit combination, mamey and strawberry, or vanilla and lime.  Trust me, vanilla sherbet is not at all related to that ho-hum vanilla ice cream!  My mother fondly remembers a peanut sherbet that she had in Veracruz 15 years ago--these sherbets are that memorable!

The road leading to the malecón from the zocalo is dotted with nieve stores.  Most have employees out on the sidewalk, trying to attract customers, belting out, "¡Güero, güera--nieve, nieve, NIEVE!"  At first that´s a little overwhelming, but it´s another of those decidedly Veracruzian touches.  May they never change.

The beach at Boca del Río
Being on the Gulf coast, stopping at the beach was a must.  There are decent beaches north of the city, others within walking distance of the malecón, and others by large hotels on the south end of the city.  Being blessed with a nearly endless supply of gorgeous beaches, most Mexicans consider the beaches near Veracruz to be substandard.  However, after visiting other beaches, on returning to Veracruz this year, I´ve reaffirmed my opinion that Veracruz´s beaches are still my favorites.  The sand might not be as pristine as the Yucatán, the waves are certainly calmer than on the Pacific (thank goodness), and in Veracruz there´s the ever-present cargo ships on the horizon.  But I think that´s precisely what I like about Veracruz.  Beachgoers don´t have to drive very far (if at all) from a busy, thriving city.  That, and the fact that crabs pop their heads out of the sand and scurry off sideways, fleeing curious children.  As ubiquitous as picture books make them, real, live crabs are hard to find on beaches today!

San Juan de Ulúa
Veracruz is one of the oldest cities in Mexico.  In fact, they´re gearing up to celebrate their 500th anniversary in 2019--they´re already selling commemorative T-shirts on the malecón!  But throughout history, Veracruz has been a great foothold for invaders coming into the country.  The Spanish established the port here, as they began their march to Mexico City, on their way to destroy the Aztec empire.  The French used the same port when they invaded in 1862, as the the did US when they invaded Mexico in 1914.  Pirates were also attracted to Veracruz.  So early on in Veracruz´s history, the fort of San Juan de Ulúa was built.  It no longer serves as a fort (or a prision), but is now a museum, giving visitors a glimpse into Veracruz´s history.  

Veracruz is a great place to visit, offering a little something for everyone--a modern city with a well-preserved colonial past, surrounded by accessible beaches, and filled with delicious restaurants and sights for visitors.  On the zócalo, it´s likely visitors will catch groups of older couples dancing danzón.  The cathedral´s stations of the cross are worth a view--they capture the passion of Christ with pictures of only Christ´s hands--impactful in its simplicity.  And for families, Veracruz boasts Mexico´s largest aquarium!  There´s something for everyone.

¡Viva Veracruz!

The Juárez Lighthouse

The Port Authority

Watching ships load while enjoying nieve.  

The road from the zócalo to the malecón.

lunes, 20 de marzo de 2017

Mid-Lent Confession

Now that we´re smack in the middle of Lent, the Catholic Women Bloggers Network themed their monthly blog hop around "My Real Feelings About Confession".  Appropriate for the season.

Does anybody really like confession?  In theory, I do honestly like it.  But in reality, it seems I only drag myself into a confessional once every few years.  And the main reason for that is that whole "all Catholics in good standing should go to confession at least once a year."  Ugh.  As I´ve mentioned before, if anyone wants to drive me crazy, keep telling me how I "have to" do something.

But, like I said, I like the sacrament, at least in theory.  For starters, it is a sacrament, which means we draw close to God and He draws close to us--what´s not to love about that?  Furthermore, I completely believe it can be a much more enjoyable experience than the chore we´ve turned it into.

When I was barely beginning to explore Catholicism, I had my first, albeit very informal, experience with confession.  I was fresh out of college, spending a year volunteering full-time in New Mexico with the Border Servant Corps.  As part of the program, we set aside one evening a week to intentionally spend with our fellow volunteers.  At one point in the year, we got into a regular habit of going around the group and honestly letting the group know how we were doing--emotionally, physically, spiritually, professionally, etc.

Looking back as I´m writing this, that sounds terribly tedious.  Eight people talking in-depth about four different aspects of what makes them tick every week?  We were a tight group, and I look back on those times as some of the most edifying of my life.

We were close enough that we could be absolutely honest with each other.  Frequently, it was an excellent opportunity to open up with struggles we were having as to ask our friends to pray for us.  Together, we celebrated mundane accomplishments like celebrating that we could finally run for 20 minutes at a stretch.  On the other extreme, it gave us an opportunity to reflect or admit openly if we were struggling with our faith or depression.  As we got in a habit of "checking in" every week, it became routine to follow up on each other, asking questions or encouraging each other through the week, as we really knew what was truly going on in each others´ lives.
Maybe it would help to take down the wall.

As I was beginning to explore Catholicism at the time, this experience gave me ample food for thought to consider the sacrament of reconciliation.  Given my religious background, I had a knee-slap reaction to confession--"well, of course I don´t have to confess my sins to a priest--I can go straight to God!"

While that certainly may be true, this weekly examination with my volunteer group opened my eyes to how beneficial it is to admit some things out loud, particularly to someone with an understanding ear.  And--let´s face it--it´s great to hear that we´re forgiven in the end.

Ideally, I believe this is how confession should be--like this experience my group had, of closeness and frequent contact, so we know what´s going on with others on a weekly (or daily) basis, so we know each others´ struggles and successes, celebrating and praying together.  Unfortunately, if a priest has hundreds of people in his parish, it is rather difficult for him to get to know all parishioners on that kind of level.

However, I´m pretty confident that most Catholics are much like me, and it wouldn´t take much effort to get to know our priests a bit better.  If we were better able to count our priests as our friends, time in the confessional would be less or a chore and more of an opportunity to simply sit back and be completely honest with a trusted friend.

And that would make confession the liberating experience that it´s meant to be.
Come on in!

Anyone itching for more reflections on confession?

Check out the other posts from the Catholic Women Bloggers Network--it´s an excellent, varied, and thought-provoking assortment, I promise!

Or, read chapter 28 in Matthew Kelly´s Resisting Happiness.  Even before this blog hop, that chapter recently got me off my butt and into a confessional--it´s that convicting!  Even better, the whole book is pretty good.

(If you´re like me, and read Matthew Kelly´s Rediscovering Catholicism and didn´t like it, give Resisting Happiness a try--it´s the book that I was hoping Rediscovering Catholicism would be!  I was pleasantly shocked that this was a genuinely good book.)

lunes, 13 de marzo de 2017

Standing in Solidarity (with a little luck)

I pass this two to four times a day.

Every day, I wonder how long my luck is going to hold out.  When is that pole going to slide under my car, flipping it over while spewing live electrical wires all over the street?

It´s been a month now.  So far, so good.

It´s March, which brings to mind St. Patrick´s Day and, consequently the luck of the Irish.  Now, to the best of my knowledge, none of my ancestors were Irish, but today I´m sure looking like I´m pretending I were.

Despite the red hair and ND outfit,
I´ve got NO Irish genes.  
But isn´t that more or less the point of a modern celebration of St. Patrick´s Day?  It´s a day where we all just pretend to be Irish.  I´m not sure how the Irish feel about that, but that´s how we do things in the US.  That, and it´s a good excuse to drink a Guinness.

Very similarly, Cinco de Mayo has turned into a popular celebration in the US.  In the US, people use the 5th of May to celebrate Mexican heritage--and that´s great.  Or, it´s just a good excuse to have some Coronas or a margarita.  But, like St. Patrick´s Day, it appears to be a day that we can all just pretend to be "Mexican" for a day.  Whatever that means.

I do get on my yearly soapbox, explaining that Cinco de Mayo isn´t widely celebrated in Mexico.  However the events of Cinco de Mayo had longer-lasting consequences for the US and, if we knew about them, it would then make perfect sense that we celebrate Cinco de Mayo more in the US than Mexico.  I´ve got more information on that topic here.

But I´m not exactly pushing that soapbox today.  This comparison between how St. Patrick´s Day and Cinco de Mayo are celebrated in the US is striking me pretty hard, particularly this year.  Around 150 years ago, when Irish people were immigrating to the US by the boatload, they were often discriminated against.  They had doors closed in their faces and were openly excluded from jobs, places to live, etc.

While anti-Mexican sentiment has been simmering under the surface of US culture for awhile now, it appears to be coming to a head with the current administration.  What am I proposing here?  I´m suggesting that yes, let´s celebrate Cinco de Mayo this year.  Let´s do it the same way we do St. Patrick´s Day, where everyone pretends to be Irish for a day.  This Cinco de Mayo, let´s all be Mexican for a day.

That doesn´t mean that we all go around wearing sombreros and drinking tequila.  What I´m proposing is that we stand in solidarity with those Mexicans (and other latinos) who live in the US.  We appreciate them for their contributions to our country.  (If you´re not sure what that would be, I´ve got a glaring example here, for those readers who skipped over that link earlier.)

Why do I claim that Mexicans (and other latinos) are being discriminated against?

Trump´s presidential campaign sounded pretty clear to me.  His remarks about Mexico have angered an entire nation.  It´s becoming routine, upon meeting new people here, one of the first questions we´re asked is, "do you like Trump?"  I shudder to think how they´d respond to someone who says they do.  And this new Victims of Immigration Crime Engagement office that trump wants to start sounds benign on the surface.  However, it hints at something larger.  My fear is that it will legitimize discrimination against latinos in the US.

But if that´s not evidence enough, consider:

  • We have a system of for-profit detention centers where people are held for months, sometimes years, waiting for their immigration case to be process, often to ultimately be deported. 
  • These for-profit detention centers require a MINIMUM number of people to be incarcerated in these centers.  Am I crazy, or should detention centers be run by the government (or at the very least, be non-profit).  Because who is making profits for these detention centers?  Right, the taxpayers.  And probably the people held in these detention centers.  
  • Those held in these detention centers, not being US citizens, have no legal rights.  They have no right to representation like citizens or legal residents do.  This in another reason why they can be held for years, because in many cases no one is pushing to get cases heard, and the government has no plans to give these people due process--they just plan on deportation.  After they´ve met the detention centers´ minimum quotas, of course.        
  • Entire families are locked up in these detention centers.  We´re incarcerating children.  This is not the kind of thing that makes me proud to be an American.  (Precisely the opposite.)

This Cinco de Mayo, let´s stand in solidarity with the Mexican and latino families down the street.  

That doesn´t mean eating a taco bowl.  Mexicans don´t actually eat those.  

That means contacting your representatives and senators, and speaking up for those neighbors who legally don´t have a voice in this country.  Whatever our stance on immigration, I think we can all agree that people should be treated humanely.  

Locking up non-violent offenders indefinitely is not humane.  Our country can do better.  

This Cinco de Mayo, let´s all be Mexican for a Day.


Need more reading about Detention Centers?

Check out:

  • the ACLU
  • Bring Pedro Home (through a facebook group, I became aware of this family.  At the time, the husband was detained (indefinitely, of course).  In the end, he was held for 19 months.  When his case finally went to trial, his US citizen wife was preparing to move to Guatemala, because it was very likely he was going to be deported anyway.  Fortunately, he was ultimately granted permanent residency, and (as he was before his detention) he has been contributing positively to his community ever since.