Throughout the week I participate in a different ministry of the Interfaith Committee for Detained Immigrants. Each ministry is an enriching experience that allows me to see a new perspective of immigration that, had it not been for this internship, I would not have witnessed otherwise. Yet before I begin to reflect on one of these ministries, there are a few things necessary to know about the Interfaith Committee for Detained Immigrants. ICDI formed under the leadership of Sister JoAnn Persch and Sister Pat Murphy, “whose names are synonymous with justice in Chicago” according to one of their volunteers. These Sisters are adamant about the holistic care of detainees throughout the entire process of detention, whether that means residency or deportation. The ministries of ICDI include pastoral care at detention centers, court watch at immigration court, post detention accompaniment programs at their houses of hospitality, and a prayer vigil every Friday as deportations are happening at the deportation center. In all ICDI has nearly 200 volunteers that enable these different ministries to provide care for detainees. For the sake of time, I cannot reflect on each of these ministries and summarize the experiences I have had thus far. However, I will reflect on one of my weekly experiences.

Every Tuesday I get in a car with three nuns as we make our way up to Woodstock, IL to do pastoral visits with detained immigrants. Quietly I sit in the back as the Sisters discuss how the other Sisters in their order are doing, what they had done over the weekend, and what exciting news they have about the other four ministries they operate. After my confusion has passed from the check-in on many of their Sisters and the happenings of their order, I am awestruck by how fast paced and dedicated the lives of these nuns are. Then I remember that they are triple and quadruple my age, which humbles any thought I have of how busy I think I am during the school year. Coming into my internship I prejudged this organization to be something that Sister JoAnn and Sister Pat did to stay busy in their maturing years; however, I was greatly mistaken.

Once we arrive at our destination, we are soon joined by a team of volunteers who come the same week of every month. Everyone greets one another with the warmest of welcomes as we make our way through security and into an empty pod where the detainees are held. Depending on the week, for the next two to four hours the volunteers and I will visit with a number of detainees. We wait at the entrance of the pod to greet their smiling faces, full of excitement from the opportunity to simply be with someone from “the outside” for a half hour. As they file in wearing the same orange jump suits as those incarcerated, we shake their hands and ask what languages they speak. Today I had the privilege to sit down and listen to six men tell me how they are feeling, which is usually a difficult task for any man. Yet, that difficulty fades away once someone has been held in detention, regardless of the length of time. I will share one experience from yesterday.

A younger man walked in and seemed surprised to be greeted by someone younger than fifty. He spoke English well. I asked him if he wanted to sit at my table. Eager to begin conversation, we introduced ourselves and then he immediately asked how I can got involved with doing this. What he really wanted to know was why I am doing this. So I explained how I got involved and he began to thank me for taking the time to come visit; we had not been sitting together for more than a minute.

For purposes of confidentiality, I will call my new friend Mark. Mark is 35 years old and hails from El Salvador. I asked him how he was doing, how are you feeling; a general but important question that I am sure he does not hear every day like many of us do. Mark responded first saying he was fine, next with a comment on the food, and finally that he was sad and worrisome. Attempting to explore the last comment more, I asked why so. At first he simply replied “because of my kids”. Then for the next thirty minutes, Mark expressed care and worry that only a parent can do. With his eyes illuminated from talking about his children, suddenly Mark’s face turned downtrodden with anxiety about possible deportation. I could see his hurt, yet in no way could I identify with his pain. The intensity of his worry is unlike anything I have had to worry about. Then Mark asked me how old I was, and I answered with 21 years old. He responded by saying that “we’ve been in this country for the same length of time”.

Mark wants nothing more but to be with his children and to be a good father. He does not want to be like his father, who left Mark, not because of deportation but voluntarily, when he was 7. That is the reason Mark explained to me that he will do everything he possibly can to be with his children, not matter the lot of his future: El Salvador or the United States. During our rich conversation, we formed a strong connection and a few things become abundantly clear to me. First, Mark will do everything within his power to be the father he desires to be and the father he knows his children need. Secondly, if Mark is deported from the U.S. it will be years before he can see them again. And lastly, I can do nothing to help Mark. I cannot fight his legal battle. I cannot help him with getting his family to El Salvador. I cannot help him see his kids again if they are separated.

The only way I can help is to sit and be present with Mark. Yet, for simply spending 45 minutes with him, for doing this small act of love, he expressed his deepest gratitude. I promised Mark that I would pray for him, his children, and hopefully for the future they will have together. He thanked me and quickly gave me a hug, both knowing we are not supposed to do that. Finally Mark said, “I want to do good things for my kids because God has blessed me with them, but also pray for yourself; that you keep doing good things”. All I had done was listen and ask the occasional question. I was simply present, but to him that was a good thing. Whether I think Mark should be deported or not is not the primary question. I have no say in that matter, nor can I help in one way or another. What matters is if Mark will have the opportunity to be a father to his children. All Mark wants to do is simply be present with his kids. That is not just a good thing, it is an essential thing.

But until his future is decided, I will continue to visit with Mark every Tuesday. I will come and listen to stories of his children, about the letters they write to him. I will come and be present, asking the occasional question that gives Mark the opportunity to relax his tightened shoulders and talk. Then after we part ways and in my feeling of helplessness, I will continue to pray that Mark will have the opportunity to be the father he longs to be; a father that is present with his children.

Above is one of the teams that goes to the detention center once a month. Sister JoAnn (front row in the dark green sweater) and Sister Pat (front row in the pink sweater) started the pastoral care ministry for detainees 5 years ago.