Tag Archives: Interfaith Community for Detained Immigrants

Dissolving the American Dream by Thespina Dabagia

            My CAPS fellowship has led me to working as an intern for the Interfaith Community for Detained Immigrants which is a non-profit, faith-based organization out of Chicago, Illinois. We are comprised of staff and hundreds of volunteers who respond to the suffering of people, families, and communities affected by the immigration system in this country. ICDI runs five programs that respond to the various needs of people in and after detention; jail visitation ministry, court watch, deportation accompaniment, Chicago Immigrant Transit Assistance/Hotline, and the Unaccompanied Children’s Interfaith Ministry. Though my internship with ICDI may be non-traditional because of COVID-19, it has been nothing short of extraordinary. I have spent time reading immigration court reports and learning about non-profit financial management in times like these. I have also spent time researching nationwide community contacts that we can provide as resources when we welcome formerly detained people at the bus station. The project I am most excited about starting is a volunteer reading group I am leading along with the supervisor of the jail visitation ministry. The goal of this reading group is to share in conversation around collective readings to build and develop solidarity with immigrants detained in ICE facilities. I think it will be extremely interesting and engaging while also allowing me to get a closer understanding of our volunteer population.

            Immersing myself (technologically) in the immigration justice work that we do at ICDI has opened my eyes to the realities of our country’s failing immigration system and how the “American Dream” we so proudly parade for the world to see is not applicable to everyone. All through college I have been merely reading about ICE’s cruelty and the Trump administration’s hateful rhetoric towards immigrants but truly working with the individuals and communities impacted by this broken system is beyond disheartening. What we need not forget is that ICE’s purpose is cruelty. ICE is trying to normalize separating families in detention centers with limited hygiene products during a pandemic by referring to them as “Family Residential Centers”. We’re living in a country where children, as young as four years old, are forced to represent themselves Pro Se in court. ICE has continued deportation flights, packed with people suffering from COVID-19 who contracted the illness in our overpopulated detention centers. Not only is our government refusing to implement proper nationwide pandemic prevention, we are now sending the people that we have made sick back to countries trying to contain their own outbreaks. Now, ICE is threatening international students with the ultimatum of attending university classes in-person and get sick or get deported. There is no excuse for ICE’s cruelty, there are absolutely viable alternatives to detaining people inhumanely. According to a report by the National Immigration Forum, ICE spends an average of $200 per person each day in immigration detention while alternative programs like community supervision or electronic monitoring can cost as low as $4.50 per day. When the alternatives are proven to be more cost effective, it is clear that the purpose of ICE’s detention centers are to inhumanely punish migrants.

            Asides from the existence of cost-effective alternatives, I think our obsession with punishing migrants is just horrific. How many times have you heard a parent say they would die for their children? How many movies have we seen where parents do anything to keep their families safe? For migrant families, these are not hypotheticals. These are the realities in which they live. Not only do we detain them in disgusting jails where they are forced to pay commissary for basic things like soap or toothpaste, but in immigration court we make them relive the traumatic experiences they are seeking asylum from. When they don’t provide enough detail (most likely because they are afraid of retribution from the kind of situations they are escaping), our immigration courts cite lack of evidence and their pursuit for a better life is denied. With ICE running our immigration system like the gestapo, there is no chance for the American Dream. Of course, the easy counter to my argument is to say “they just need to come here legally!”. To which I would reply; how many times have you experienced civil war in your home country? How many times have you seen your family members massacred in front of you? How many times have you genuinely feared for your family’s life to the point where you feel that giving up your home country and all your belongings is necessary in order to survive? And again, how many times have you heard a parent say they would do anything for their child/ren? Essentially the United States has three modes of obtaining lawful permanent residency. The first is that a qualified family member in the United States can petition to bring a qualified foreign-born family member to the country. However, that sponsor must live above the poverty line and be able to financially support the family member they are bringing to the states. So, don’t have a family member in the U.S.? Or have a family member in the U.S. but they are one of the 38.1 million Americans in poverty? No American Dream for you. The second way is to be granted asylum from political persecution or fear of persecution based on things like race or religion. As I previously explained, it is extremely difficult to be granted asylum as immigration courts require a high evidentiary burden. So, unless you are willing to recount the specific details of your trauma, complete with physical evidence and no fear of retaliation, no American Dream for you. The last means of lawful immigration is when U.S. employers sponsor someone to come work and live in the U.S. The qualifications for sponsorship are extremely high and can include having an advanced degree, exceptional artistic talent, and/or specialized work experience in science and business. This means that America doesn’t value you unless you can provide us with substantial evidence that you have something we want. This means that the idea of the American Dream where America is a place that you can achieve anything you want if you just work hard, really only considers you viable for the American Dream if you have already established yourself somewhere else. In other words, the hard work should be done before you come here. This idea of being extremely exceptional in order to be deserving of citizenship is also asinine as undocumented workers are the literal backbone of the agricultural, meatpacking, landscaping, domestic services, and construction industries of our country. If the United States is going to continue to proudly tout the American Dream while making it nearly impossible to qualify for legal citizenship for the people who actually need it, then we are doing something gravely wrong. Immigrants are what makes this country great, not a phrase that has come to be ironic in its meaning.

Creating Unity, Amidst Diversity by Ben Montgomery

I first heard this phrase when I was fifteen and participating in the Ulster Project, a cross-cultural program designed to build relationships between protestants and Catholics in Northern Ireland. The project was created in response to historical conflict between these two groups and the goal was to bridge the divide between these two groups by building relationships and inviting dialogue about differences. Throughout my placement, this phrase has repeatedly entered my thoughts. While at Valpo, life is encapsulated into a bubble, one which I love, but also one that is comprised of people who come from similar backgrounds, speak the same language, and think in similar ways. I have likely never been amidst the level of diversity that I have experienced this summer which is one of the things I have appreciated most about my placement. During my week I am surrounded by people of different religions, nationalities, ethnicities, and languages. Old people, children, Hispanic people, Islamic people, African people, the list goes on. Part of what I like about my placement is the welcoming of this diversity on the path to creating unity. I am working with ICDI, the Interfaith Community for Detained Immigrants. Diversity was important enough to my organization that they included “interfaith” in their title. Diversity is obviously important when working with immigrants as they are people that come from all over the world. The people I interact with were raised with different values, customs, and traditions and the differences are certainly evident but there is something so meaningful about people coming together and having dialogue and working together across those difference to grow to appreciate them. The people who I work alongside, as well as those we are working to help are coming from different backgrounds but we all come together under a unified goal: to remedy a humanitarian crisis and to provide dignity and basic needs to immigrants and refugees in Chicago. This is why the phrase, “creating unity, amidst diversity” has been cropping up in my thoughts all summer and this is one of the things I have found most valuable about working with ICDI.

Experiencing Through Stories by Ben Montgomery

I went into this summer expecting to gain practical experience, learn about nonprofit work, and contribute something to the organization I am working with. So far this has all proven true, but what has taken me by surprise is that the most powerful part of my experience has come from stories. I am spending my summer working with ICDI (Interfaith Community for Detained Immigrants), an organization that responds to the many needs of immigrants in Chicago. Participants in ICDI programs, detained immigrants, asylum seekers, volunteers, and staff all have a story of how they ended up where they are and what they are doing to try to improve the situation. In the four weeks that I have been working with ICDI I have been lucky enough to have listened to many of these stories. Part of what I do is spend Thursday mornings in a detention center speaking with detained immigrants who have found themselves in an unfortunate situation due to a vast range of circumstances. Hearing their stories, each one so different from the next, is not something easily accessed outside of this niche environment. Stories of walking through the jungle in South America, fleeing political oppression in Bangladesh, and separation from family members at the U.S. border. Some tell these stories as if they are simply a part of life, assumedly something that everyone has gone through and had to deal with. Others tell them while withholding tears at the remembrance of their journey or fear at the thought of returning to the places they have fled. Though all are different, all are impactful.

The most compelling story I can tell from my summer so far is from the day I spent in an immigrant detention center on the fourth of July. That day, outside was a celebration of freedom and the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness for the ancestors of immigrants. Inside were thick white cinderblock walls, covered windows, armed guards, orange jumpsuits, and a solemn attitude brought on by the knowledge that what was being celebrated that day was something tragically unavailable to those wearing orange. Inside was a heavy tension induced by the all too evident awareness of this celebration in juxtaposition with the circumstances that weighed heavy on the hearts of the people detained. The story that day was one of a struggle for freedom. A struggle defined by arbitrary rules, obstacles, threatening circumstances, waiting, hoping, praying for an end to the circumstances that were keeping these immigrants from experiencing what most people outside of those walls and inside of our borders were celebrating. So far this summer, nothing has been as eye-opening and thought provoking for me as listening to the stories of detained immigrants, most innocent people simply seeking what I have always taken for granted especially on a day meant for celebrating freedom and liberty.

One of the most remarkable things about exchanging stories this summer has been the lack of disconnect between myself and those whose stories could not be more different from my own. There are of course intimidating factors that go along with entering a jail but these all quickly vanished as a I began speaking with people so different and yet so relatable. One would think that a social barrier would stand between a college intern and an asylum seeker or detained individual coming from a different part of the world and sharing a much different story, but conversation comes as naturally as talking to a peer at Valpo. Stories are shared and we all learn a little bit more about each other and the world we live in.  Almost all of the people I have met are more than willing to share their story and many are eager to hear mine, which took me by surprise at first. While I have certainly found value in the work I have had the opportunity to contribute to my placement this summer, easily one of the most valuable parts of my experience has been hearing the stories from the people I am fortunate enough to interact with on a daily basis.