07.11.19

PW OPINION PW NEWS PW LIFE PW ARTS
•GUEST OPINION•
BY LYNDA LIN GRIGSBY
TRUTH HURTS
WOULD WE CARE MORE IF THE IMMIGRATION CRISIS WERE FICTION?
Here is a fundamental truth about being parents: we want to keep our families
safe. There are many other tenets painted in broad strokes that some may
look at and say, “Hey, that does not apply to me.” But parents, of sound minds,
protect their families.
So as parents, should we be asking ourselves why a young father would
purposely wade into perilous waters with his toddler daughter? What would
move him to tell her to trust him, hang on tight and swallow the fear that was
likely coursing through both their bodies?
The answer is he was trying to protect his family.
By now you have seen the picture — harrowing as it is — of the bodies of
Salvadoran migrant Oscar Alberto Martinez Ramirez and his nearly 2-year-old
daughter, Valeria, lying on the bank of the Rio Grande surrounded by reeds
and beer cans. In death, Valeria’s arm is still embracing her protector.
You have seen the pictures of the border detention centers, so crowded
there doesn’t seem to be one inch of floor space.
The pictures are a punch in the gut. It is also a reminder for any immigrant,
like myself, how lucky we are to have made it across our own rivers, oceans
and deserts alive.
My own family’s journey to America came as a result of war. We were one of
the many families, called the boat people of Vietnam, who got on a boat with a
guide we did not completely trust just in the hope of making it to another land
where the people would see our desperation and invite us in. Along the way,
my family faced the threat of disease and attack by pirates who knew the boat
people carried valuables.
Many people died, but my family landed in a refugee camp in Malaysia
where I was born. When I was roughly the age of Valeria, my family received
paperwork to build a new future. America welcomed us. For this, I am
eternally grateful and proud to be a naturalized citizen.
But my heart is breaking.
I asked my dad why he thought it was a good idea to put his wife and two
young sons in a boat across an ocean with so much uncertainty and danger?
“Well,” he said, drawing in a deep breath. “What could I do? What choice
did I have?”
Surely, Oscar felt the same way when he stood on one side of the river and
asked Valeria to take his hand. They got in the water and made it across with
her holding tight. On the other bank, he told her to stay there and wait while he
went across again to get her mom. But you know what happens when you tell
toddlers to stay put — they are wired to run away, whether in a parking lot, a
park or on the banks of a river.
My heart is breaking.
If we leave politics aside and create a fictional tale, could we better
understand? What if Oscar and Valeria are being chased by a fire-breathing
dragon or a herd of the undead? Behind them the monsters are getting closer,
the flames from the lips nearly touching their clothes. They could hear the
gnashing of zombie teeth. And across the river stands the castle of Camelot or
the gates of Alexandria.
In a fictionalized story or a popular show like “The Walking Dead,” surely
Oscar and Valeria’s story would be valorized. Their descent into the Rio
Grande River would be shot in slow motion, and perhaps end with triumphant
closeup of fingertips grasping the reeds on the other side. And we, as viewers,
would cheer.
But, as we know, reality here is far grimmer than post-apocalyptic society.
What if in fiction we could change the ending? Let’s say Oscar successfully
swam back to get his wife and found Valeria waiting for them on the safe bank.
They would embrace through soaked clothes and tears and turn around to
face the gates.
In this story, like in the popular AMC show, they would be met with doubt
and fear. Maybe the people behind the gate would suspiciously watch them
through their doorbell camera device.
But there would always be a conversation among the people. Should we let
them in? Who are we as a society if we turn them away?
Maybe it is time for us, the people, to have that conversation. ■
Lynda Lin Grigsby is a freelance writer living in Pasadena. Contact her at llgrigsby@gmail.com.
6 PASADENA WEEKLY | 07.11.19