Here's Hoping This Story Will Make a Difference

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What I love most about journalism is that, at our best, we tell stories that affect people’s lives, change the way readers look at the world, or inspire action.

Last week, we in our office had the chance to do just that. We were going to tell the story of a young man who has opened his own small business. He did the interview, and the story was scheduled to run in these pages, but then he asked us not to run it because he was afraid. His fear was well-founded – he is one of the estimated 800,000 young people in the United States who trusted our government when it gave them the opportunity to register for a work permit, with the assurance they would not suffer for it. Now, five years later, policy has changed and they are no longer protected. Today, the young man whose story we were going to tell lives in fear of being arrested, jailed and deported; his fear is multiplied by the fact that the government has information about who he is and where he lives.

The crime this young man committed? He has lived here in the United States since he was a child, but because his parents were undocumented, he too is not a legal resident. Because of this, he has never had the opportunity to become a citizen. For this crime – which legally is a misdemeanor, about the equivalent of a speeding ticket – he now is in danger of being sent to a country of which he has no memory. If this were to happen, his business would close, and our community would be less one contributing member.

He has done no wrong, but still he faces a penalty more severe than almost any other that our society dispenses. He has lived here for more than a dozen years. Had he committed a crime and not been caught, the statute of limitations would have expired long ago. Had he been convicted of a crime, save the most heinous felony, he would already be out of jail.

This is where the light of journalism shines. If we could have told this young man’s story, it might have increased understanding as to why so many of us believe that the federal government’s revocation of DACA is unfair. Maybe his story would have encouraged some of our readers to contact their elected representatives and ask them to vote for legislation that would allow such young people  to remain in the U.S.

I know that many Americans oppose allowing undocumented immigrants to remain in the U.S. – some of my closest relatives share this view. I can give them all of the good factual reasons why we need comprehensive immigration reform that permits these people to remain in the country where they have lived for 10, 15, 20 years, but my arguments fall on deaf ears. However, when I speak about people like the young man I just mentioned, and then ask why he should be deported, my family members hesitate before pronouncing the cruel sentence of sending him to a country of which he has no memory, away from his family and friends and the business he has built. They also have no answer when I ask what good would come of such blind enforcement of the law.

On Saturday I heard more stories like that I just told. Several of the speakers at the DACA rally at the Utah Capitol are enrolled in the program. They are educated, articulate, hard-working – all qualities we ask for in our young people today, and yet they face deportation simply because they were brought here as children a decade or more ago.

It was discouraging to hear Archie Archuleta say that this fight that we face today for a compassionate immigration policy is the same one he has been involved with since the 1970s. That means that for almost 50 years people like him and the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops have been pleading with our elected officials to find a way to help the millions of people who live in the shadows in this country, fearing every day that they will be separated from their families. We understand that our community needs to be protected against criminals, but the vast majority of those in danger of being deported are law-abiding, hard-working men and women who want a better life for themselves and their families. They are our neighbors, our children’s friends, fellow members of our parish, and even the owners of local businesses.

Hearing their stories makes it is easier to realize that by demanding protection for them we are not asking for strangers to be welcomed, we are in fact seeking to shield our friends and neighbors from an unjust law.

Marie Mischel is editor of the Intermountain Catholic.