The Truth About Immigration: What I’ve Learned and Why It Matters

My Thoughts on Emigration

Emigration is a deeply personal and complex issue, but it’s also a reflection of our national character—how we treat others, the compassion we extend, and the values we uphold. It’s not just about policy; it’s about humanity.

I’ve noticed a prevailing sentiment among some Americans: the belief that the United States is the greatest country in the world and that our citizens should always come first. This perspective often manifests as a lack of empathy toward others, especially immigrants. While patriotism can be a unifying force, it sometimes fosters an attitude of superiority, leading us to overlook the struggles and contributions of those seeking a better life within our borders.

This perception isn’t limited to our own observations. A Pew Research Center study found that about half of Americans (49%) and Germans (47%) agree with the statement, “Our people are not perfect, but our culture is superior to others.” In contrast, only about a third of Britons and fewer than 30% of the French share this view. Such statistics suggest that the notion of cultural superiority is more pronounced in the U.S. compared to some European countries.

It’s important to clarify that I’m not advocating for the U.S. to shoulder the responsibility of aiding every other nation. However, it’s crucial to recognize that our foreign aid often serves our own interests. Many Americans may not realize that assistance provided to other countries frequently aligns with our strategic goals. For instance, foreign aid can enhance national security, open new markets for trade, and strengthen diplomatic relationships, as noted in this analysis from the Center for Strategic and International Studies.

There are certainly instances where the U.S. has offered aid purely out of humanitarian concern. Yet, more often than not, our assistance is intertwined with self-interest. This doesn’t necessarily diminish the value of the aid, but it’s essential to acknowledge the motivations behind it.

On an individual level, many Americans actively engage in global humanitarian efforts. Organizations like the Peace Corps, various missionary groups, and numerous NGOs work tirelessly to improve conditions in underserved regions. These efforts reflect the compassion and generosity of countless citizens who strive to make a positive impact beyond our borders.

However, my primary focus here is on the U.S. government’s role and, by extension, our collective stance as a nation. I aspire for our country to embody compassion—not just in rhetoric, but in action.

Historically, the U.S. has had a complicated relationship with immigration. From restrictive policies to periods of openness, our approach has fluctuated over time. While some countries, like Canada and New Zealand, are often lauded for their welcoming attitudes toward immigrants, as discussed in this Global RCG article, the U.S. has oscillated between embracing and resisting new arrivals.

It’s worth remembering that the foundation of our nation is built upon immigration. European settlers arrived on these shores, often at the expense of Native American populations, to establish what would become the United States. In that context, we were once the immigrants, seeking new opportunities and a better life.

My Thoughts on Family Separation and Legal Immigration

What I have a hard time with is this attitude we have in this country—this idea that if someone isn’t born here, they’re automatically a problem. Especially when it comes to immigration from Mexico or Central America.

When children would come across the U.S. border—sometimes with their parents, sometimes not—they were often separated from the adults they arrived with. Yes, it’s true that in some cases, kids weren’t brought by their biological parents. But even then, is that an excuse to separate them from the only adult they know? I don’t think so.

Instead of helping these families or investigating responsibly, our system has often thrown the children into cold, jail-like holding facilities. These aren’t places made for kids. They’re often run by U.S. Customs and Border Protection (CBP), and even though they’re meant to be short-term, kids have sometimes stayed there for days or longer without basic care. A few years ago, inspectors reported children packed into concrete cells with no beds and no showers—just Mylar “space” blankets and bright lights left on 24/7. These cells were so cold, people started calling them “hieleras”—iceboxes. (NYT report on CBP conditions)

And after that? The children are usually handed over to a different agency called the Office of Refugee Resettlement (ORR), which runs shelters across the country. Some of those shelters are decent. But others—especially the emergency sites thrown together during immigration surges—have been criticized for poor conditions, lack of staff, and even abuse. In 2019, Congress revealed that ORR had received over 4,500 allegations of sexual abuse in its shelters over just a few years. (NPR report) That number should stop us in our tracks.

Now imagine how this all feels to a 6-year-old child. They’ve just crossed into a strange new country, maybe fleeing danger, maybe just hoping for something better. And now they’re alone. Scared. With no idea where their parent is.

And then on top of that—they can’t even communicate. Most of these children speak Spanish, and thankfully, many staff do as well. But what about the children who speak Indigenous languages, like Q’anjob’al or Mam? Some of them don’t even speak Spanish fluently. There have been reports of children waiting days before anyone could talk to them in their language. One interpreter said that when he finally spoke to a young girl in Q’anjob’al, she cried—he was the first person she’d understood since arriving. (PRI/The World)

This isn’t just a policy failure. It’s a human one.

And it didn’t happen by accident. The Trump administration’s “Zero Tolerance” policy in 2018 directly led to family separations. The idea was to prosecute everyone crossing the border illegally—including parents with children. Once the adults were put in jail, the children were taken away. It wasn’t about making things safer. The goal was deterrence. They thought if people knew they’d lose their children, they might stop coming. (NYT investigative piece)

Over 2,600 children were separated in just a few months, and in many cases, the government had no real plan for reuniting them. Some parents were deported without their kids. Others spent weeks or months trying to find out where their children were. The public outcry was so strong that even Republican lawmakers and pediatricians spoke out. One doctor from the American Academy of Pediatrics called it “government-sanctioned child abuse.” (AAP statement)

And here’s the thing: we say we want people to “come here legally,” but do most Americans even understand what that takes?

Becoming a legal immigrant in the U.S. isn’t easy. It’s expensive, and it’s complicated. It can take years—sometimes decades—to get through the system. If you don’t have close family here or a specialized job offer, you might not qualify at all. There isn’t a visa for someone who’s just poor and wants a better life. For many people, especially from Central America or Haiti, there simply is no legal path available.

And even when there is a path, the costs can be staggering. For a simple family-based visa, you might pay over $1,200 in government fees alone—not counting lawyer fees, medical exams, translations, and travel. For a green card adjustment in the U.S., current filing fees can total more than $3,000. And that’s per person. Multiply that by several family members, and you’re looking at a huge financial burden—especially for someone escaping poverty or danger. (Boundless breakdown of green card costs)

So yes, it bothers me when people say, “Well, they should just come the right way.” We need to ask ourselves—what is the right way, and is it even accessible for the people we’re judging?

I know a lot of people have strong feelings about immigration—and I respect that. But strong feelings alone aren’t enough. We need the facts. And the truth is, unless you take the time to really look into it, much of what’s happening at the border isn’t widely known. It’s not always front and center in the media, and it’s easy to miss the bigger picture if you’re not seeking it out.

That’s why I believe all of us—no matter where we stand politically—should commit to learning the full truth. Full understanding can’t come without facts. And many Americans, through no fault of their own, simply don’t have access to the whole story. That’s why I’m writing this: to share what I’m learning, and to invite others to learn alongside me.

I’m not an expert—I’m still learning all of this myself. But as I read and research, I want to share what I’m discovering. Maybe we can learn together. Because I think understanding the system, the facts, and the real stories can help us build a country that’s not just strong, but kind.

Has Immigration Really Gotten Worse? Or Has It Always Been Complicated?

My mom and I don’t always agree when it comes to politics. She’s more conservative and has supported the Trump administration, while I see things a little differently. When we’ve talked about immigration, she’s said that it’s gotten a lot worse in recent years and that Democrats like President Biden and former President Obama are to blame.

But I’ve told her that, from my point of view, immigration—especially from Mexico—has been a big issue all my life. I was born in 1972, and I can clearly remember, even as a young girl in the late ’70s and early ’80s, hearing people talk about immigration. I told her, “It’s always been like this.” And she said, “Oh no, it’s way worse now.” So I wanted to take a step back and look at what the facts really say.

It turns out immigration has been a complicated issue in the United States for a long time—especially when it comes to our southern border. In fact, one major shift happened even before I was born, in 1965, when Congress changed the immigration laws. They placed strict limits on how many people could come from each country, and for the first time ever, they capped how many people could legally immigrate from Mexico. Before that, tens of thousands of Mexican workers came each year with very few restrictions. (Emigration from Mexico – Wikipedia)

Then in 1964, the U.S. ended the Bracero Program, which had allowed Mexican laborers to legally work in American fields and factories. When that program was shut down, a lot of people still needed work, and U.S. employers still needed laborers. But now there wasn’t a legal way to bring people in. That’s when undocumented immigration really began to rise—not because people wanted to break the law, but because the system suddenly gave them no way to come legally. (SMU Texas-Mexico Timeline)

In the 1970s and early 1980s, when I was growing up, immigration was already a hot topic. What changed, though, was the tone of how it was talked about. The media and political figures began using words like “invasion” and “flood” to describe immigration—especially Latino immigration. That started to shape how people thought about it, making it seem scarier or more out of control than it actually was. That fear affected policy, too, as lawmakers pushed for more enforcement instead of reform. (Immigrant Invasion Narrative – Wikipedia)

At the same time, in the 1980s, countries in Central America were experiencing civil wars and political violence. Many people from El Salvador, Guatemala, and Nicaragua fled to the U.S. to escape life-threatening situations. But rather than granting them the protection they needed, the U.S. often denied them asylum. That led to the creation of the Sanctuary Movement, where churches and religious groups across the country sheltered refugees when the government wouldn’t. (Sanctuary Movement – Wikipedia)

So has immigration gotten worse? It depends on what you mean. The number of people coming in goes up and down depending on wars, poverty, job opportunities, and natural disasters. But the challenge of immigration—figuring out how to balance compassion, law, and national interest—has been around for decades.

And if it seems more chaotic now, some of that might be because of how it’s portrayed in the media and politics. The truth is, we’ve never really had a simple or fair immigration system. We’ve had people coming here for opportunity, fleeing danger, or trying to reunite with family for a very long time. Sometimes the system has helped them. Sometimes it’s shut the door.

It’s not just a left vs. right issue. In fact, some of the most restrictive immigration laws were passed under Democratic presidents, and some Republican administrations expanded programs to let more people in. So blaming one political party doesn’t give us the full picture.

What I’m realizing is that this has been a complicated issue for far longer than we often acknowledge. It’s not just about numbers—it’s about people, history, and policy that changes with every decade. When we say “it’s worse now,” we might really be responding to how loudly we’re hearing about it, not just how many people are crossing the border.

So instead of fighting over whose fault it is, maybe we should focus on understanding how we got here—and what we could do to make the system more fair, humane, and functional for everyone involved.

Immigrants, Jobs, and the Work Most Americans Won’t Do

One thing my mom and I actually agree on when it comes to immigration is that immigrants do a lot of the work that many Americans won’t. And I’ll be honest—she’s the one who first pointed that out to me, years ago. As much as she’s supported tougher immigration policies, she’s also been clear that there are certain jobs people just don’t want to do here in the U.S., and immigrants are often the ones who step in.

I’ve heard other people say this too, and the more I think about it, the more I realize how important that is. Jobs like farm labor, roofing, and meat processing aren’t easy—and they’re not glamorous. But someone has to do them. And in many cases, immigrants, including undocumented immigrants, are the ones doing them. Studies have shown that immigrants make up the backbone of entire industries like agriculture, construction, food service, and elder care. These aren’t jobs most Americans are applying for in large numbers, and without immigrant workers, a lot of these businesses wouldn’t survive.

We also talked in an earlier section about how difficult it is to immigrate legally and how long that process can take. So until we make legal immigration more accessible, it’s worth acknowledging that there are benefits to our country—even right now—because these workers are here. Whether people agree with how they came or not, their presence fills critical gaps in our workforce.

Source: Pew Research Center

The Economy: Do Immigrants Help or Hurt?

What really surprised me when I started researching this was just how much undocumented immigrants actually contribute to the economy. I’ll admit it—before now, I thought that maybe they didn’t pay taxes. I figured if they were here without legal status, maybe they were hiding in the shadows and not contributing much financially. But I’ve learned that’s not the case at all.

In fact, many undocumented immigrants do pay taxes—sometimes through payroll with fake or borrowed Social Security numbers, or even directly through tax identification numbers. They pay federal and state taxes, sales taxes, property taxes (even if they rent), and more. The research shows they contribute billions of dollars in taxes every year—helping to fund things like Social Security, Medicare, and public schools, even though they don’t usually benefit from those programs themselves.

That really changed how I see things. I always had a sense that immigrants played a role in our economy, but I hadn’t realized the full scope of it. Between working jobs we rely on, paying into systems they can’t use, and spending billions in our communities, immigrants—documented and undocumented—are keeping parts of our economy running. And studies show that, overall, immigration boosts the economy more than it takes away. In fact, even the Congressional Budget Office has said that increasing immigration could help reduce the federal deficit.

Sources:

Healthcare and Undocumented Immigrants: What I Thought, and What I’ve Learned

The topic of healthcare and undocumented immigrants is one that I’ve struggled with over the years. I’ve always had sympathy for people trying to come here for a better life. But I used to say, “I don’t know what the solution is, but we can’t keep giving free healthcare to people who aren’t even here legally. It’ll break the system.”

That wasn’t because I didn’t care about them. I just didn’t know what was true and what wasn’t. I’d heard for years that undocumented immigrants were getting free care, especially in places like California, and I figured it had to be putting a big strain on our system.

But writing this blog post made me want to look deeper—and what I found surprised me.

First, most undocumented immigrants don’t get any public healthcare benefits at all. They’re not eligible for Medicare, Medicaid, or insurance through the Affordable Care Act. In most states, the only care they can get is emergency care—like if you or I were seriously sick and didn’t have insurance. A hospital can’t legally turn someone away in a life-threatening situation, and I wouldn’t want them to. I don’t think anyone should be told, “We won’t treat your child because you’re undocumented.” That’s not who we should be.

And when it comes to places like California, yes—it’s true that they’ve expanded their state health program to cover undocumented residents who meet the income limits. But I used to think that was going to wreck the healthcare system, and now I realize that’s not accurate either. These programs cost money, sure—but they’re only a small part of the state’s budget. And studies show that undocumented immigrants actually use fewer health services than most people, partly because they’re scared to come forward at all.

In fact, one of the most heartbreaking things I learned is that a lot of undocumented immigrants are afraid to go to the doctor, even when they really need help. They worry about being deported or getting in trouble, even if the hospital says it’s safe. So many delay care until it’s an emergency, which is both more dangerous for them and more expensive for everyone.

I hadn’t really thought about that before, but it makes sense. If I were undocumented, I’d probably do the same thing. I’d be scared, too. And that fear alone keeps people from getting the care they need. That’s not just bad for them—it’s bad for all of us.

Sources:

Are Undocumented Immigrants More Likely to Commit Crimes?

Another thing I think is important to talk about—and I’ll be honest, I didn’t fully understand until doing this research—is the belief that many undocumented immigrants are criminals or come here to bring in drugs and cause trouble. That’s something I’ve heard a lot over the years, and I think many Americans have too.

But my fiancé Josh has always had a different take. He’s often said, “Why would they want to commit crimes if they’re already undocumented? Wouldn’t that just get them deported even faster?” And you know what? That’s actually a really good point. And as I looked into it more, the research shows he was absolutely right.

There’s a lot of data on this now, and it all points to the same thing: undocumented immigrants are not more likely to commit crimes than people born in the United States—in fact, they’re less likely to.

Let’s take Texas, for example. It’s the only state that tracks crime by immigration status. A study published by the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences found that undocumented immigrants in Texas had significantly lower conviction rates for both violent and property crimes than native-born Texans.

And this isn’t just one study. Over a 150-year period of U.S. history, research by Northwestern University shows that immigrants, regardless of legal status, have consistently had lower incarceration rates than people born in the U.S.

So where does this myth come from? A lot of it seems to be driven by political rhetoric and media narratives. It’s easy to latch onto fear, especially when a tragic crime is committed by someone who isn’t a citizen. But statistically speaking, immigrants—especially undocumented immigrants—are not coming here to commit crimes. Most are just trying to build a better life, work hard, and take care of their families.

One of the reasons crime rates are lower among undocumented immigrants might be exactly what Josh said—they have even more to lose. If you’re undocumented, getting caught committing a crime could mean immediate deportation, separation from your family, and losing everything you’ve built. Most people in that position go out of their way to avoid any trouble at all.

Many also have deep family ties and community networks that discourage criminal behavior. And they work hard—often in jobs that require staying under the radar and keeping a clean record just to survive. It’s just not logical that someone who’s already here in a vulnerable situation would risk making it worse.

Sources:

Sanctuary Cities: Understanding the Reality

For years, I’ve heard about sanctuary cities, especially in discussions led by President Trump and others, portraying them as places that harbor criminals and protect undocumented immigrants, suggesting they should lose federal funding. Honestly, I hadn’t delved into the actual policies or reasons behind these cities’ decisions until now.

Through my research, I’ve learned that sanctuary cities are municipalities that have adopted policies limiting their cooperation with federal immigration enforcement. The primary goal is to foster trust between immigrant communities and local law enforcement. By ensuring that undocumented immigrants can report crimes, access public services, and cooperate with police without fear of deportation, these cities aim to enhance overall public safety.

Many of these cities—such as New York City, Los Angeles, Chicago, San Francisco, and Philadelphia—have significant immigrant populations. Their policies often include not honoring ICE detainer requests without a judicial warrant and restricting local law enforcement from inquiring about an individual’s immigration status.

I also discovered that studies have shown sanctuary cities do not experience higher crime rates compared to non-sanctuary cities. In fact, some research suggests they may even have lower crime rates, which challenges the narrative that these policies compromise public safety.

For example, a 2017 study from the University of California, San Diego found that crime rates were not higher in sanctuary jurisdictions than in comparable non-sanctuary areas. Additionally, a 2020 analysis published in the Journal of Conflict Resolution concluded that sanctuary policies have no significant impact on crime rates.

The Trump administration previously attempted to withhold federal funding from sanctuary cities through Executive Order 13768, but courts later ruled this unconstitutional, citing the Tenth Amendment’s protections against federal overreach. You can read more about that here.

While some argue that not cooperating with federal immigration enforcement undermines the law, I now understand that these cities are striving to balance legal obligations with the need to maintain community trust and safety. This perspective has provided me with a more nuanced understanding of the issue.

Sources:

A Quick Pause and Reflection

When I first started writing this post, I was actually sitting at the vet’s office with my guide dog, Vicki Jo. I hadn’t planned to write anything extensive—just a few thoughts that had been building up after spending time at my mom’s and hearing Fox News or maybe Newsmax on in the background. (I asked her what channel it was, and she thought it was Fox.)

Some of the things I heard stuck with me. They got me thinking about how we talk about immigration in this country—how some people seem to think immigrants are only here to take from us, or that they’re somehow less deserving of compassion. And then I thought about how I want our country to be. I want it to be a country that still cares about others. That values people, not just policy.

At first, I thought this blog post would be short. But once I started exploring, I realized just how many layers there are to this topic—and how much I still wanted to learn. So yes, it turned into something bigger than I expected. But I think that’s a good thing. Because immigration is a big issue. And if we’re going to talk about it honestly, I think we need to take the time to really look at it from every angle we can.

Why Can’t They Just Come Here Legally?

One of the most common questions people ask is, “Why don’t they just come the right way?” It seems like a fair question—until you look at how the U.S. immigration system actually works. The truth is, it’s a lot more complicated than just “asking to come” or filling out a form.

When I first began to understand just how difficult legal immigration can be, it was back in 2016. I had knee surgery in October of that year, and a few weeks later, I started physical therapy in Tampa, Florida. My physical therapist was from Canada. He and his family were living here legally, and he was the head of the physical therapy department at the University of South Florida. I remember asking him if they planned to become U.S. citizens. His answer really stuck with me. He said, “We’d love to—but it’s expensive. It’s $750 per person.” They had a few kids, and even with a good income, he said it was a big financial commitment for the whole family.

At the time, I didn’t know how immigration worked. I just assumed if you had a good job and wanted to become a citizen, it was a simple process. But that conversation made me realize it’s not so easy—even for someone from a wealthy country like Canada, and even for someone who already lives here legally. So then I started thinking: how much harder must it be for someone coming from a poor country, with little money, no formal education, and no connections?

So What Does It Actually Cost?

Today, the costs have gone up. Here are just some of the basic fees someone might face when trying to come to the U.S. legally:

  • Green Card (Permanent Residency) Filing Fees:
    • Family-based adjustment of status (if already in the U.S.): About $1,760 per person
    • Employment-based green card from outside the U.S.: $1,200–$1,500
  • Naturalization (Citizenship) Fee: $760 as of 2024 (USCIS Filing Fees)
  • Medical exams: $200–$500 depending on the country
  • Legal fees: Can range from $1,000 to $5,000+
  • Other costs: Translations, biometrics, consulate travel, and more

So in total, for one person, the process can easily cost $2,000 to $5,000 or more—and that’s assuming they qualify. Multiply that by a family of four or five, and you’re looking at $10,000 to $25,000, which is completely out of reach for many working-class or poor families—especially those fleeing dangerous situations or living on just a few dollars a day back home.

Who Even Qualifies?

Another issue is that most people don’t have a legal path available to them at all. U.S. immigration law is very limited in who it allows to come:

  • Family-based visas are usually limited to spouses, children, and siblings of U.S. citizens—and wait times can be 5 to 20 years depending on the country (Visa Bulletin).
  • Employment-based visas typically require high skills, sponsorship, and a willing employer—often not accessible to low-wage workers.
  • Asylum and refugee status is only granted to people who can prove persecution based on very specific criteria—many are denied or wait years for a decision.
  • There is no visa option for someone who simply wants to escape poverty and work hard for a better life.

So when people say “just do it legally,” they may not realize that for the vast majority of people, there is no line to get in. The door is simply closed to them.

Wages and Reality

To put this into perspective, many undocumented immigrants work in jobs that pay $12 to $18 per hour—and sometimes less if they’re being taken advantage of. If they’re from countries like Honduras or Haiti, they might have earned under $5 per day back home (World Bank Data).

Saving thousands of dollars for immigration fees is nearly impossible for many of them. Even those who come here legally with temporary work permits or student visas often struggle to keep up with the cost of maintaining their status—especially if their situation changes.

In short, the U.S. immigration process is not just long—it’s often inaccessible. It’s expensive. It’s complicated. And for many people, it’s not even an option.

Do Immigrants Drain the U.S. Healthcare System?

I’ve heard a lot of misconceptions over the years about immigrants “draining the system”—especially when it comes to healthcare. It’s something I’ve heard in media coverage and in everyday conversation. And I’ve always wondered what the truth really is. Now, after looking into it, I know that much of what gets repeated just doesn’t match the facts.

One of the most persistent myths about immigration is that undocumented immigrants come to the U.S. to take advantage of our healthcare system, placing a financial burden on taxpayers. This belief is widespread; for instance, a 2018 WBUR report highlighted that more than half of Americans think immigrants are at least partly responsible for the nation’s high healthcare costs.

However, research consistently shows that this perception doesn’t align with reality. Studies have found that immigrants, including undocumented individuals, use less healthcare than U.S.-born citizens. For example, a study from Tufts University revealed that immigrants have medical expenditures that are half that of U.S.-born individuals, and undocumented immigrants account for only 1.4% of total healthcare spending despite making up about 5% of the population. (Tufts University)

Several factors contribute to this lower usage. Immigrants are often younger and healthier upon arrival, a phenomenon known as the “healthy immigrant effect.” Additionally, many face barriers to accessing healthcare, such as lack of insurance, language difficulties, and fear of deportation. Undocumented immigrants are generally ineligible for federal healthcare programs like Medicaid and Medicare, except in emergencies. (National Immigration Forum)

Moreover, immigrants contribute significantly to the healthcare system. They pay taxes and insurance premiums, often without being eligible for the benefits these payments support. This means they help subsidize healthcare for U.S.-born citizens. (KFF – Kaiser Family Foundation)

In summary, the narrative that immigrants are a drain on the U.S. healthcare system is not supported by evidence. On the contrary, they tend to use fewer healthcare resources and contribute more financially than they receive in services.

Understanding DACA and the Dreamers

I’ve heard about DACA and the Dreamers before, but through this research, I’ve gained a much deeper understanding. I have to admit, I didn’t know much about it until now. One of the things I remember hearing about Dreamers was during President Trump’s first term—there were talks about ending the program. At the time, I wasn’t sure what it really meant. I was fairly certain he wanted to get rid of DACA, and now that I’ve done the research, I’ve unfortunately found out that I was right.

Now that I understand what this program is really about, it honestly makes me angry and sad that our own government officials would show so little regard for people who have grown up here, who’ve lived as part of this country their entire lives. These aren’t outsiders—they’re part of our communities, our schools, our future. And to try and take that away from them? I just don’t see how anyone can justify it.

What Is DACA?

The Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program was created in 2012 during President Obama’s administration. It provides temporary protection from deportation and work authorization to certain undocumented immigrants who were brought to the U.S. as children. These individuals are commonly known as “Dreamers.”

To qualify for DACA, an applicant must have entered the U.S. before age 16, lived here continuously since June 15, 2007, and met other criteria—such as attending school or serving in the military and having a clean criminal record. DACA does not offer a path to citizenship, but it allows eligible recipients to live and work in the U.S. legally for renewable two-year periods.

Who Are the Dreamers?

Dreamers are people who were brought here as children—many as toddlers or even babies—and who have grown up entirely in the United States. They’ve attended American schools, speak English fluently, and often know no other home than this country. Many go on to college, get jobs, serve in the military, or raise families here. According to the Immigration Forum, a majority of Dreamers are working or studying full-time, and many have U.S. citizen children or spouses.

And yet, despite all that, their future here is never secure.

As I was researching this, the topic of Dreamers came up again and again—and one thing that really struck me was how often these young people are treated as outsiders in the only home they’ve ever known. One of the things that has always bothered me when I hear about immigration cases is this: a child grows up in this country, goes to school here, contributes, lives like any other kid—and then at some point is told they’re not allowed to stay.

In my view, that’s just about criminal. I truly believe that any child who has been raised in the U.S. and is contributing to society should be allowed to stay here. They may need to take the required tests or go through an official process, sure—but the idea of kicking them out of the country they grew up in is, to me, unjust and completely lacking in compassion.

What kind of country—especially one that often calls itself Christian—punishes a child for the decisions of adults? I just don’t see how anyone can defend it. I think DACA is a good and necessary program. It may not be perfect, but it gives people a chance to keep living their lives, working, learning, and contributing—without living in fear.

Legal and Political Challenges

In 2017, President Trump announced plans to end DACA, arguing that the program was unconstitutional. That decision triggered a long legal battle, and in 2020, the Supreme Court ruled that the attempt to rescind DACA was “arbitrary and capricious,” allowing the program to continue temporarily. (Supreme Court ruling summary)

As of 2025, there are ongoing efforts to restrict or reshape the program. For example, the current administration has proposed removing DACA recipients’ eligibility for Affordable Care Act coverage, which could affect thousands of people who rely on access to healthcare. (NBC San Diego)

DACA recipients still have no path to permanent residency or citizenship under current law. They must renew their protections every two years, remain constantly vigilant, and live with the risk that the political winds could shift again.

Border Security and the Humanitarian Crisis

There’s a lot of talk about the U.S.-Mexico border—about crime, drugs, and national security. But what’s often missing from the conversation is the human side of the story. There is, in fact, a humanitarian crisis unfolding at our southern border, and I think people should be aware of it.

Who’s Coming—and Why?

Many of the people arriving at the border are families and individuals fleeing dire circumstances in countries like El Salvador, Guatemala, and Honduras. They’re escaping gang violence, political instability, and economic hardship. These are not criminals; they’re people seeking safety and a chance at a better life.

However, recent policy changes have made it increasingly difficult for them to seek asylum. The termination of programs like CBP One has left many stranded in dangerous conditions along the border, with limited access to basic necessities and legal assistance.
Source: WOLA – Feb 2025 field report

The Reality of Drug Smuggling

There’s a common misconception that migrants are responsible for drug trafficking into the U.S. In reality, most illicit drugs, including fentanyl, are smuggled through official ports of entry by organized criminal networks.
Source: FactCheck.org – Jan 2025

Data shows that the majority of fentanyl seizures occur at legal crossings, not through unauthorized border crossings. It’s important to separate the actions of drug traffickers from those of individuals and families seeking asylum.

Balancing Security and Compassion

Border security is important, but it must be balanced with compassion and respect for human rights. The current approach, which includes mass detentions and the expansion of facilities like the Guantanamo Migrant Operations Center, raises serious ethical and legal concerns.
Source: Wikipedia – Guantanamo Migrant Operations Center

We need policies that address the root causes of migration and provide safe, legal pathways for those seeking refuge. Treating migrants with dignity and empathy is not just a moral imperative—it reflects the values we aspire to uphold as a nation.

It’s time to look beyond the headlines and understand the complex realities at our border. By doing so, we can work toward solutions that are both effective and humane.

Final Thoughts: We Must Not Lose Our Compassion

I started this post because I’ve grown increasingly concerned with how we, as a country, treat immigrants. Somewhere along the way, the conversation shifted from compassion to criminalization. It became easier to label people “illegal” than to ask what they’ve been through—or why they’ve come here in the first place.

We talk a lot in this country about being a compassionate, Christian-leaning nation. And while I don’t believe the government should represent any one religion, I do believe those of us who claim faith—or simply claim to value human life—should be the first to act with empathy and justice.

None of us choose where we are born. I was born in the U.S.—and yes, that makes me fortunate in many ways. But it doesn’t make me better. It doesn’t make me more deserving of safety or dignity. We forget that most of us are here because someone in our family history immigrated—often under much easier circumstances than today’s migrants face. So what gives us the right to deny others that chance?

Now, I want to speak plainly about something else that’s been on my mind. I’ve never been someone who hates people just because they’re from a different political party. And I want to be clear—I voted for Donald Trump the first time. I didn’t the second time, because I didn’t like the way he behaved in office. But this post isn’t about whether I like Trump personally. I don’t. I don’t care for how he talks about people or how he carries himself. But a president doesn’t have to be my friend. What matters is whether they respect the rule of law and do what’s best for the people.

That said, what I’m seeing now deeply disturbs me.

There was a recent case involving Kilmar Ábrego García, a man legally living in Maryland who was deported to El Salvador despite a court order that said he should not be removed. He was thrown into one of the worst prisons in the world—CECOT, El Salvador’s “mega prison,” known for brutal treatment and detaining people without charges. And he’s still there, because the Trump administration, in defiance of a Supreme Court ruling, has refused to bring him back. Instead, they claim they can’t do anything.

But that’s not true.

In fact, President Trump met with El Salvador’s president, Nayib Bukele, and according to news reports, the U.S. has agreed to pay El Salvador tens of millions of dollars to keep deported people there. Even more troubling, Trump reportedly expressed interest in sending not just immigrants—but U.S. citizens convicted of crimes—to be imprisoned in El Salvador’s CECOT facility.
Washington Post – April 2025

To me, this crosses a serious line.

Are we really going to start outsourcing our prison system to another country? Are we going to pay another government to hold people—many of whom have never even had a trial—in a place that’s known for violating human rights?

We’re not there yet, but this direction gives me chills. When a government begins ignoring court orders, detaining people without due process, and striking deals to hide that behavior in another country, we are heading into dangerous territory. These aren’t just policy debates anymore. These are signs of authoritarianism. And yes, it reminds me—uncomfortably—of some of the earliest moves made by regimes we now look back on with horror.

I’m not saying we’ve become that. But I am saying: we’re on a path that should give every American pause.

This is why I wrote this post. Because I believe we need to stop and think—really think—about where we’re going. We need to return to the values of compassion, fairness, and human dignity that many of us claim to believe in. And we need to hold every leader, regardless of party, accountable when they fail to live up to those values.

Call to Action: What You Can Do

If you’ve read this far, thank you. I know this post was long, but I hope it helped paint a fuller picture of the realities surrounding immigration in the U.S. These issues are complicated, but that doesn’t mean we’re powerless. There are real steps we can take to make our voices heard and advocate for more compassionate, informed immigration policies.

Here are a few ways you can get involved:

1. Contact Your Members of Congress

Whether you support reform, oppose family separations, or want to protect DACA recipients, one of the most direct ways to take action is to contact your senators and representatives.

2. Learn How to Write or Call Effectively

Your voice matters, especially when it’s personal and respectful. Not sure what to say? Here are a few nonpartisan resources with tips and templates:

3. Support Organizations Doing the Work

There are countless nonprofits and advocacy groups working on immigration reform, legal defense, humanitarian aid, and public education. A few options to explore:

4. Stay Informed and Share What You Learn

Sometimes the biggest impact we can make is in our own circles—by talking to friends and family, sharing facts, and breaking through the fear and misinformation. If this post helped you understand things better, consider sharing it.

Vicki Andrada's avatar

By Vicki Andrada

A Little About Me I was born on February 25, 1972, in Flint, Michigan, at McLaren Hospital. I lived in Michigan until I was almost 40, then moved to Tampa, Florida, where I stayed for seven years. After that, I relocated to Arizona, living with friends in Glendale and then in Phoenix for about eight months. I spent two years total in Arizona before returning to Florida for a little over a year. Eventually, I moved back to Michigan and stayed with my parents for six months. In May of 2022, I moved to Traverse City, Michigan, where I’ve been ever since—and I absolutely love it. I never expected to return to Michigan, but I’m so glad I did. I was born blind and see only light and shadows. My fiancé, Josh, is also blind. We both use guide dogs to navigate independently and safely. My current Leader Dog is Vicki Jo , a four-year-old Golden Retriever/Black Lab mix. She’s my fourth guide dog—my first two were Yellow Labs, and my last two have been Golden/Lab crosses. Josh’s guide dog, Lou, came from the same organization where I got my previous dog—now known as Guide Dogs Inc., formerly Southeastern Guide Dogs. Josh and I live together here in Traverse City, and we both sing in the choir at Mission Hill Church , which was previously known as First Congregational Church. A lot of people still know it by that name. We both really enjoy being part of the choir—it’s something that brings us a lot of joy. I also love to read, write, and listen to music—especially 60s, 70s, and 80s music. Josh and I enjoy listening to music together and watching movies, especially when descriptive video is available. We also like working out at the YMCA a couple of times a week, which has been great for both our physical and mental health. I’m a big fan of Major League Baseball. My favorite team is the Detroit Tigers, followed by the Tampa Bay Rays and the Colorado Rockies. In the NFL, I cheer for the Pittsburgh Steelers, Indianapolis Colts, and San Francisco 49ers—and I still have a soft spot for the Detroit Lions, especially now that they’ve started turning things around. I’m passionate about politics and history. I consider myself a progressive thinker, though I also try to take a balanced, middle-of-the-road approach. I’m a follower of Jesus Christ and a strong believer in respecting people of all faiths. I love learning about different religions, cultures, and belief systems. Writing is one of my biggest passions. I haven’t published anything yet, but I’ve written several books that are still in progress. Writing helps me express myself, explore new ideas, and connect with others through storytelling. Thanks for stopping by and getting to know a little about me.

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