The third time was a charm for Carlos.
He had tried to cross the border from Mexico to Texas twice before and had been caught by border patrol guards.
But this time, he made it. The 16- year-old waited by a bridge for most of the afternoon, watching a border patrol officer in a guard house. He saw his opportunity to run when the guard left his post to catch another man bolting through the hills.
It was 1950, and Carlos had left his mom and sister in the one-room, dirt-floored shack they called home. Mexico was hard on Carlos. He had no dad; he had just six years of education; and he was poor.
He saw no way out but to get out.
And that is the reason many Mexicans come to the United States, to flee desperate living conditions, to earn more money and send some home to the people they left behind.
As I read stories about raids to catch illegal immigrants, or about whether illegals should have “resident” status at colleges, I think of Carlos — my grandfather.
Before becoming president, Barack Obama said he supported citizenship for law-abiding people who enter this country illegally. But those pushing immigration reform are afraid that progress on the issue is now taking a backseat to the recession. This month’s meeting between Obama and Mexican president Felipe Calderon will offer a more clear indication of where the president stands.
Carlos, who is now a legal resident of the United States, will be watching the meeting closely. Sixty years ago, Carlos saw the wealth the United States had bestowed on his uncle, who was just three years older. Uncle Polí had left Mexico legally, in the 1940s, when American men were fighting World War II and Mexican men were encouraged to come fill the jobs they’d left behind.
Polí later visited his family in Mexico wearing a nice hat, nice clothes and with a few bucks in his pocket. Carlos wanted the same. By then the war was over. American men were already home reclaiming their jobs. But Carlos had decided he was coming whether the United States wanted him or not.
Carlos picked potatoes for $3 a day while sleeping in a pig pen in Fort Lupton. The farmers he worked for were good people. They’d make big suppers of beans, tortillas and green chile for their workers.
He came here with nothing. He took risks and crummy jobs.
Certainly something must be done. There is simply not enough money to go around, to pay for everyone’s health care, and to subsidize college for those who want it.
“Why should more Mexicans get into the United States than people from other countries?” friends ask. People from all over the world are on waiting lists to come here.
I don’t have an answer, and I guess that’s the problem: No one does.
“Was coming across the border worth the risk?” I once asked Grandpa.
“The thing I am most proud of in my life is coming to the United States,” he said. “But I wouldn’t advise today’s young men to do it. It’s too risky.”
But he understands their plight, their desperation. “Mexico has no jobs, no money. You cannot dream for something more there. Here, you have opportunities.”
After working in the fields for a couple of years, Carlos became a cook and worked in various restaurants and schools. He married, had two kids, and now finds joy in playing pool, watching boxing and collecting aluminum cans. Two of his grandchildren have graduated from college; another is on her way.
I don’t know what to do about immigration. I would ask lawmakers, however, to consider the individuals involved, to consider their hope, their desperation and their long-term potential in this country.
Michelle Ancell (ancellsrus@yahoo.com) of Aurora was a 2005 Colorado Voices columnist.
