My Mother’s Day Wish

I remember the moment I became a mom for the first time. The love that surged through me was like no other. That love grew with each child I cared for whether the child was mine or not. Children have a way of making me see the world with fresh eyes. Being around them forces my wandering mind to be in the moment and appreciate simple things like playing whiffle ball on a beautiful afternoon, jumping off a diving board, or choosing the perfect crayon from a box of sixty-four. Their curiosity, their enthusiasm, and their energy have a way of making me remember what’s truly important in life.

When I became a teacher, I’d go from joy-filled, when a student loved a book I recommended, to stressed when I’d see worried faces before an exam, to contentment when I knew I’d helped a student in some small way. Children have played an important role in my life for over twenty years. Caring about them, wanting to protect them is a part of who I am, and that’s why my heart has been breaking since I first read about what our country is doing to children who cross our border.

I’ve been reading articles about what has been happening for almost a year. When I saw there was a group of teachers organizing to speak out, because teachers are required by law to report child abuse, I supported them as best I could. It wasn’t enough. I was asked to write a lesson plan for teachers so they could have their students write letters to the children locked up in the Homestead Detention Center. I did. Still, every day I thought about the kids and wondered how much longer they’d have to stay behind bars in crowded living cells, frightened, unsure of their future. Only miles away, yet a world away from the teens in my community I’d seen laughing while shopping at Target, getting their nails done for the prom, or stressing about their grades.

I must write what I feel in hopes that my words will reach you because children are suffering and if I do not speak out for them then I am part of the problem by allowing it to happen while I stay silent, busy with life, hoping someone else will do something. This problem can be solved when enough of us care.

Our country is locking up children instead of allowing them to live with their relatives, sponsors, or placing them in licensed foster homes. The Homestead Child Detention Center has over 1,600 children aged 13-17. The company that owns the detention center receives approximately $750.00 per child per day which means about 1.2 million dollars a day– 8.4 million dollars a week! It’s on federal land, so they don’t have to abide by Florida child welfare laws. Think about that for a minute. A select few people are profiting greatly from taxpayer money by locking up children.

Here is one account from a 14-year-old girl. I was horrified by everything I read but especially what the officer said! If I don’t speak up the officer’s voice is all Sara hears. The cruelty crushes my soul.

Sara, age 14, Honduras

We were forced to sleep on the floor and had no blankets until the second day. The blankets we were given were aluminum foil-like and frozen solid and didn’t keep us warm. It was almost impossible to sleep because the floor was so hard and the room was so cold. There were no clocks in the room and the lights were always on. I lost track of time and felt like I was in jail. Soon after we received the blankets, another minor got up to walk around the room and stopped for a minute in front of the window in the cell. The officers immediately and abruptly entered the room, yelled at her and took away blankets as punishment from almost all of us except for the three youngest girls, who were 8, 7 and 4 years old. As soon as the officers left the room, they blasted the air conditioning and the temperature became unbearably freezing. Everyone was too scared to ask the officers to turn down the air conditioning to a reasonable temperature because we didn’t know if they would get angry and punish us in other ways. Any time I moved, I felt like they would punish us for no reason.

On the third day, we were handcuffed by our hands and feet before being taken out of the cell. The handcuffs on my hands were very tight and were connected to a chain around my stomach. We were told we were leaving but then were put back in the cell for about another 30 minutes without an explanation. Those 30 minutes felt like the longest minutes of my life. I was scared and didn’t know if I would ever get out of detention.

As we were taken out of the cell again, an officer began to make fun of us and said “Quiere que les tome la foto para subirla a facebook? Les enseño a sus amigos y familia como están ustedes ahorita para que no vengan aquí a los Estados Unidos.” [Want me to take a picture of you all and upload it to Facebook? I’ll show your friends and family how you are right now so that they don’t come to the United States.] I was in shackles and felt really ashamed.

I was taken to the airport in a car with a couple of other minors, including the 8-year-old and 4-year-old who were in the third hielera with me. We arrived at the airport around 11 a.m. and were kept in the car until 4 p.m. During these five hours, we were not allowed to go to the bathroom and we weren’t given anything to eat or drink. The officers waited outside the car and joked around with each other. They didn’t check on us and we couldn’t get their attention because the windows were rolled up. It was so hot outside and the air inside the car was extremely stuffy. I felt like I was going to suffocate.

One of the officers eventually opened the car door to get something. The 8-year-old said that she was very thirsty and hungry, and the officer replied, “I’m also thirsty and hungry” before closing the door. The two little girls began to cry and didn’t stop for over an hour.

The handcuffs weren’t taken off us until shortly before the plane landed. They were extremely tight. On February 7, 2014, when I spoke with Americans for Immigrant Justice exactly a week after arriving at the shelter, I still had marks on both of my wrists from the handcuffs.

Story from the report “Children Fleeing Central America: Stories From the Front Lines In Florida” Americans for Immigrant Justice

What can we do?

“Anyone who does anything to help a child is a hero to me.” — Fred Rogers, television personality

Be brave! Speak out! Yeah, I know it’s uncomfortable. That’s fear. Read more articles on the subject and listen to your heart. There are no red or blue teams here only people caring for children and some people wondering how anyone can sleep at night knowing they’re profiting from abusing children.

If you’re a teacher or parent, you can have your students or child write a letter to a teen in Homestead. Letters can be sent to your representatives or to AFSC: Shutdown Homestead Detention Center Campaign c/o AFSC 1822 R St NW, Washington, DC 20009