I left Artesia on Saturday morning after about a month of volunteering. In that month, the days were approximately 16-19 hours long and full of horrific stories and circumstances that attorneys outside of Artesia can barely begin to imagine. So it’s not surprising I’m sure, to those who have volunteered in Artesia and have returned home, that I am struggling to process the emotional toll that this work has taken.
Every day, I think about how this system is broken, and about how shocking it is that people outside of Artesia don’t seem to know or care. I think about the flagrant violations of the rights of these women, on top of everything else they have endured, and how much of a betrayal that must be to those who thought the United States would help them escape these desperate situations in their home countries.
As an attorney, justice and the rule of law are two things that are so important to the foundation of my career that it hurts me deeply when I see the mockery of U.S. law that this system embodies. As an attorney, I usually trust judges to have an even deeper appreciation of our legal system, and to that end, I feel that we are on the same side in many ways. In Artesia, all of these ideas and beliefs are suspended, and any belief I had in the legal system in the United States crushed.
This is politics, pure and simple. It’s disgusting that the matters of life and death these women face are purely political in the eyes of people I normally trust to uphold the laws of the United States. It’s disgusting that the government argues against bond for these women without having stepped foot into the hellhole that they now call home. It’s disgusting that they would send women and children to their deaths, without affording them their rights under the law to have their cases heard, just to make an example of them.
I am so hurt, offended, disillusioned, and panic-stricken by the events unfolding in Artesia. All I can do as an individual is try my best to contribute my time in any way I can, whether that be coordinating volunteers, taking on individual cases, or helping people argue for bond. My grief and anxiety are paralyzing, and it is all I can do to focus on the underlying feelings of determination and strength that these women show me on a daily basis so that I can continue to move forward.
I appreciate the work of everyone in Artesia currently, as well as the work of those who have returned home. All of us together are giving these women something, even if it’s not all that we would like to give in the end. They are being shown that there are people who care about them, who are willing to fight for them, and who are willing to accept them here in the United States. We will do what we can, together, to give them a fighting chance. I love you all. I wish you all the best of luck, and I look forward to seeing all of you again this fall.
Written by Christina Brown, AILA Member and Artesia Volunteer