Saturday, January 16, 2010

A temporary "solution" to an ever-present problem

The other day, in the midst of all of the recent Haiti chaos [disclaimer: many of these images are graphic], I happened to catch a news segment on TV discussing the idea that Haitians should be granted temporary legal status in the United States. It would be for 12 to 18 months, and after that, they would have to return to Haiti. One caller -- an unemployed man from Middle America -- vehemently opposed that the offer even be extended. He said that he has been without work for two years, and if all of those Haitians were to come to the U.S., then "they would be taking away the jobs that currently aren't even here for the American citizens." While I do see what the guy is saying, I don't really agree: if jobs are available at all, then any qualified person should be eligible for hiring.



My main issue with making this generous offer to Haitians affected by the earthquake (which would likely be more Haitians than fewer) is that, essentially, the U.S. is waiting for disaster to strike before lending a hand to those in need. I realize that the U.S. isn't big enough for everyone in the world to emigrate here (though wouldn't that make international travel cheaper? hmm..), but I do think everyone should be given a fair chance. During the Civil War in El Salvador, which took place between 1980 and 1992, many people received permission to emigrate to the United States, just as they should have. Likewise, after Hurricane Mitch occurred in 1998, Hondurans and Nicaraguans received similar privileges. While I agree with Obama's decision to provide Haitians with this temporary solution, I wonder why immigrants from elsewhere (that is, from places besides Haiti) who have independently taken it upon themselves to flee their respective countries are not afforded the same opportunity.


The main source of income for El Salvador is remittances, or money sent back from friends and family in the United States. Prices of goods there are not drastically different from those in the United States, but the salaries that some people earn in one year are much less than many Americans make in a week. Why, then, do these "temporary solutions" have to follow natural disasters and tragedy? Nearly half of the people in the world -- more than three billion people -- live on less than $2.50 a day. Almost a billion people entered the 21st century without knowing how to read or write. What these statistics suggest [not even suggest but, rather, demand] is that the world lend its support before matters get worse. Maybe countries could grant temporary status to applicants who can demonstrate that they will contribute in some way to the American economy (thereby enabling the same opportunity to be available to others). If, after however long, the recipients have not established themselves as productive residents, then their status could be reviewed and reconsidered.

The United States is fortunate to have such plentiful opportunities, high standards, and a notable caliber of excellence to go along with all of it. Of course, while many within the U.S. borders lack the resources (both financial and otherwise) to be successful, that does not mean that the chance to better the country -- and, therefore, the rest of the world -- should be denied to those born on different soil. It all boils down to the transitive property: if the U.S. helps immigrants, and those immigrants help their families in their own countries, then the U.S. is helping those other countries by arming the immigrants with the skills to succeed, rather than by merely sending money. Sounds to me that by being more accepting of immigration, the U.S. would essentially be hosting a work program yielding lifelong benefits for everyone. There is, after all, no substitute for education. Is it the kids' fault that quality of education in many places is not enforced and, thus, they will grow up even more uneducated than the generations of people that preceded them? Perhaps it is the world leaders who have not done their jobs effectively and need help in order to equalize the playing field.


I have often heard the phrase that "a chain is only as strong as its weakest link." How do you explain, then, how those proverbial stronger links try to maximize their power without helping to increase that of the weaker links? Isn't it true that if part of a chain is weak and breaks, then the whole chain is divided? While we're on the proverb train, "the whole is greater than the sum of its parts." In other words, if the U.S. were to help other "individuals" to succeed, then I firmly believe the world would be a stronger entity -- both as a whole and as individual parts. And oh, while I'm at it, since I've never been (and never will be) part of some cheesy beauty pageant, I suppose this would be my moment to push for world peace. So, come on, everyone and give yourself and those around you a push for world peace. Just make sure you push the right people and you push them hard.

Monday, January 4, 2010

Who are we to judge?

With all of the recent participation by the United States in other countries' internal conflicts over the last several years, it raises the following question: who are we to judge?  Some bystander on the street wouldn't necessarily intervene in someone else's family conflict, so how is it that the United States of America can go into some other place and dictate what constitutes right and wrong within that place's own -- distinct -- context?  Without knowing and fully understanding all of the minute details of that other culture and the inner workings of their society, truth is, the United States is incapable of single-handedly deciding what would be acting in the best interest(s) of that place, its people, and its future.

Personally, I am a little conflicted about the matter.  It is easy for me to say, for example, that the practice of female genital mutilation (FGM) should be banned, but I don't presume to know how and in what context it is justifiable, for example, to say that a government should move from communism to democracy.  That seems backwards, though, that I could say one and not the other, when the same logic applies to both ideas.



Another example: polygamy.  Having more than one wife is a practice that is frowned upon in many places, but if the individuals involved in the polygamous relations consent to the lifestyle and its practices, then who are we to judge?  Perhaps my position on polygamy has been shaped by Big Love, a television show that chronicles the life of a guy with three wives and their family, a show that portrays them as one big family that just happens to have one patriarch and three wives.  They try to lead some semblance of a normal life, but at the same time, they know they have to lie to the outside world in order to protect their beliefs and their family.  One of the principal arguments in favor of gay marriage is that everyone should be entitled to marry whomever they choose, so who is everyone else to meddle?  In the same vein, that reasoning should apply to polygamy.  But, wait.  How about people like the leader of the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (FLDS), Warren Jeffs, who use their religious and societal status to carry out accomplice rape and to resist the law?  Maybe in his case, it was less about polygamy and more about his actions that landed him in prison with a 10-year sentence.


I think what initially got me thinking about this was an observation I had in El Salvador last summer.  When I was in the community, a community with very few financial resources, several of us observed that one thing the community members chose to invest in was soccer jerseys.  How can a community choose to spend their money -- however much/little they have -- on soccer jerseys when there are days that even food is scarce?  At first, I'll admit, we discussed that observation in a judgmental way, thinking that this community shouldn't be spending their money that way.  Upon further reflection, however, we quickly changed our minds.  Those jerseys created an instant and unbreakable sense of identity.  All it took was putting on a uniform to create unity, so that all the people who lived and struggled in the community became one entity, one that fights together against the collective opponent.  It's actually a very admirable investment, as group unity and a feeling of togetherness have the potential to help a group of people overcome the challenges that come their way and to give them the motivation and perseverance to never give up.  Good life lessons, really.  And if they can be learned just by a change of clothes?  I'd say that's a pretty good deal.

This all kind of comes full circle because it turned out that, contrary to my (and others') initial perception, the community's actions reflected its values (soccer and togetherness, perhaps even in that order!) and no intervention was necessary; that is, anyone else's interference in telling this community how to "better" spend their money would have been more damaging than beneficial.  In now considering the other aforementioned examples, it makes me wonder whether we -- as a country and as a people -- are justified in making decisions about other people's cultures and day-to-day lives at all, without their explicit request for help.  In other words, if people ask for help to achieve certain goals, that's one thing, but for representatives of the U.S. -- the land of the free -- to go in and meddle where their "assistance" is unsolicited and where effective community values might already be in place, it's only making the others less free to establish and maintain the values and core beliefs they hold so dear.

So, in considering the examples on the broader spectrum as well as those that yield fewer repercussions, I ask the same overarching question: who are we to judge?