Justice for Jose Antonio

First off, some exciting news in the immigration justice world in Tucson: the three Tucson community members who were detained after forcible removal by the Tucson police and Border Patrol have been released on bond! Thank you to all who have been staying up with and supporting this case. Arturo, Agustin, and Rosa are now waiting for news about a potential future court date for their case, but at least they are all back with their families!

And tonight, the Nogales community is seeking a different kind of justice. One year ago today, October 10, 2012, 16-year-old Jose Antonio Elena Rodriguez was shot and killed by U.S. Border Patrol agents across the border wall while he was in Mexico and they were on the U.S. side. Different accounts of that night say Border Patrol was in pursuit of two suspects on the run and Jose Antonio was not the intended target. More frequently the story is that he was throwing rocks, which is a threat to the lives of the agents. Some accounts are a combination. One thing is certain: when you go down to Nogales, Sonora and stand where he was killed, imagine taking a rock and throwing it from fifty feet from the wall and trying to aim over the top of the 20-foot fence. How much of a threat are you? He was just a kid.

It is hard to know the full truth. But to me, at least, the real question is what justifies shooting a 16-year-old at all? What justifies shooting and killing across an international border? What justifies putting eight bullet holes into his body, and leaving several more in the building behind him?

For more about this tragedy and the Border Patrol's use of deadly force, here's a current article: Questions Linger Over Jose Antonio Elena Rodriguez' Death

Additionally, BorderLinks' Nogales sister organization, HEPAC, put together this powerful video. Warning: some sounds and imagery are disturbing, but very powerful. Watch if you can: Campaña: Justicia para Jose Antonio

This kind of justice is very real. The Nogales community has held vigils on the 10th of every month, placing candles around a white cross at the site where he was killed. His mother and the community have rallied to call for an end to Border Patrol acting with complete impunity. There has been no investigation into their actions. His mother simply wants to know who killed her son and how they will be held accountable.

And tonight, on the year anniversary of his death, a few of us from BorderLinks went down to Nogales to show our support for this community still crying out for Jose Antonio. They are still crying out for justice in this singular case. And they are crying out for justice on the border so that no more die at the hands of the Border Patrol or in the grips of the desert. 

According to their Facebook page, "the campaign has two objectives:
1. Build through strategy and coordinated actions a movement led by People Power that will take Justice for Jose Antonio, Justice for the victims of Border patrol Abuse and Murder, Justice for borderlands people and put an End to Border Militarization policies.
2. Develop the capacity and political vision for the struggle of the people of Nogales. Increase the leadership of individuals and families of Nogales. Put at the forefront the voices of the people of Nogales."

So tonight, Nancy (BorderLinks office manager), Maddie (BorderLinks' YAV last year), and I piled into Indira's (BorderLinks' Education Associate) car for the hour drive south. I unfortunately did not grab any photos of Indira or Maddie, but the four of us were the crew crossing to Nogales, Sonora, Mexico for the night. 

Meet my colega, my co-worker, Nancy! She's our office manager at BorderLinks, and my partner in crime in attempting to do regular five-minute exercise breaks during the workday. Today over lunch, the office was really quiet with most of our co-workers on vacation or out for lunch, so we ended up having a really long conversation, mainly realizing we have a lot in common with our long-distance relationships. She's such a lovely person (when she's not being purposefully annoying while I'm trying to nap in the backseat), and I'm thankful to get her know her more as a person through our bonding conversation and time outside of BorderLinks for this event.

Here's what this section of the port of entry looks like:

Since this is a higher traffic time at the port with people going to and from school or work, there are more officers around. I've never had any issue crossing to the Mexican side, but this time, U.S. Border Patrol had a presence and was stopping people at random. Our group of four young women, two Latina and two white, were asked questions like, "Where are you from? How did you get here? How much money do you have?" Tucson, ummm we drove... And, about $5 in cash. Was there a need for this interrogation? Were we supposed to have our guard up when talking to law enforcement on our way out of our country? I definitely was not mentally prepared for that, but apparently we passed.

And then we ran into Shurra! She is one of the Green Valley Samaritans (a humanitarian aid organization of volunteers that bring water, food, and medical supplies out to the desert) that helps take BorderLinks groups on desert walks so see common migration trails and also things that have been left behind by people. I am realizing the immigration justice community feels like a small world sometimes. In any event, Shurra still had to find her other Samaritans, but she walked with us to find the marcha. I was not sure what this event would be like, I just wanted to be there with the community on this tough night, but I think I anticipated more of a vigil than a march through the streets of Nogales.

By the time we got there, people had already been marching a little ways from a plaza in town, and we were all headed to the site of Jose Antonio's death.

HEPAC director Jeannette. When we first met, the second she heard me speak two words in Spanish, she started going a mile a minute! She is one of the sweetest, most energetic people I've ever met, but sometimes it just takes me a second to fully catch up to her. Here she's working her magic.

Press are on the scene.

I never learned why some painted their faces white, but here they are!

Many marchers carried white balloons with them to release into the sky. 

MaryCruz, one of BorderLinks' delegation trip leaders from our Nogales sister organization, HEPAC. 

People put the Jose Antonio stickers everywhere they could. 

Passersby took a look at why we were on the streets, as we chanted slogans such as "Ni una más," not one more, "Abajos los muros de la frontera," down with the border walls, and "El pueblo unido jamás será vencido," the people united will never be defeated. 

Members of the "policia turistica," tourist police, followed along with us.

Baby in solidarity!

Turning the corner next to the border wall.

MaryCruz and baby marcher.

Others taking photos of murals on the walls.

Then, the balloons were released into the night sky, little white dots, joining the stars. 

 Messages on the bank up to the border fence. "¡No más muertes! ¡Justicia!" No more deaths! Justice!

 "¡Chinga la migra!" ..... "F--- the Border Patrol!"

Check out this artwork: "We are as free as paper!"

White candles are painted along the Mexico side of the U.S.-Mexico border wall. 

The crowd gathering along the wall near where Jose Antonio was shot and killed.

 Shurra of the Green Valley Samaritans connecting with supporters on the U.S. side.

Those who had candles shared the flickering flames as community members began speaking about Jose Antonio and how to work towards justice and celebration of his life. A couple even played home-written songs as well. One of the lines: "Jose Antonio, tu vela simpre estará prendida," Jose Antonio, your candle will forever be lit.

Jose Antonio stickers on the border fence and U.S. supporters looking on.

Poster from No More Deaths, a humanitarian aid organization and one of BorderLinks' partners.

Nancy from BorderLinks and MaryCruz from HEPAC! 

This is precisely my college major: International Relations! People relating across a physical barrier that divides their two nation-states; here, BorderLinks' Alex on the U.S. side (because he forgot his passport), and MaryCruz and her daughter on the Mexico side. Both in solidarity and support of a grieving Nogales community so hurt by cross-border violence and injustice.

Cross-border high-five.

After the songs and speeches were finished on the Mexico side, they turned to the U.S. side for its voice in the form of Aztec dancers performing - I was not able to get a good picture of the dancers, but here are a few faces on the Mexican side trying to get a good vantage point. 

One of the policia turistica officers who had been following the march on his bike actually came closer to watch the Aztec dancers as well. It is amazing how tragedy brings people together.

After their performance was over, we said our goodbyes to our HEPAC brothers and sisters, made it through to the U.S. side of the border uneventfully, and reunited with Alex to take him back in the car with us as well. Before throwing on the Latin tunes for the hour back to Tucson, we were primed with bachata music in the Burger King bathroom. This is life on this border. Cultural duality and intermingling. Conflict and unresolved tension. Despair. Hope. Connection. Flickering candles and crosses in remembrance of lives lost. Resolution to fight for "ni una más" muerte ni deportación, not one more death or deportation.

Ni Una Más continued.

In response to today's noon press conference and in support of the three remaining detained community members (Mari, the U of A student was released earlier today!), an organizing meeting was called for 5:30 pm at Southside Presbyterian Church. I had no idea what to expect, but gosh darnit, I was going to be there. I found Amy Beth, my housemate whose YAV placement is at Southside, inside the office where we connected with a couple of the main organizers. Trying to not get in the middle of a giant tag game involving many of the children of the community members present for the meeting, we made our way to the fellowship hall and found ourselves a few seats.

Over 80 people packed the room, and at the beginning, each person stood up to introduce themselves and either the work they are doing or how they are connected to the detenid@(s), the detained (for those unfamiliar, the @ symbol is used to represent both males and females are present in the group).

"Buenas tardes, me llamo Kathryn y trabajo con BorderLinks." "Good afternoon, I'm Kathryn and I work with BorderLinks." In the crowd, I believe there were just two English-only speakers, so the entire meeting was conducted in Spanish, which made my notes to myself a pretty entertaining Spanglish blend. That in turn made writing a letter in English to an "Estimado juez de inmigración," "esteemed immigration judge," pretty interesting.

It was just awesome to have the whole meeting in Spanish. Not often will a native English speaker be in the linguistic minority in the U.S., and it is indeed a privilege to not be forced into that immersion, as opposed to how all the time immigrants with native languages other than English are forced into the other language space requiring more brain power to make it make sense to you. I thought about this a lot as I went from my notes in Spanish about the quality of the character of these community members. Fifty handwritten, personalized letters are going to each detenid@'s immigration judge with messages about why we are writing, our connection to the person, who we are and what we do, and what kind of person this is that should be reunited with their community and family.

We were to sign our full names and anything else that would give our name more weight, such as an organization or religious affiliation. The organizers encouraged people to include their documentation status if it were anything denoting permission to be in this country, as it would give us more clout. Amy Beth remarked something like, "That is the first time I have ever written 'citizen' on anything." I agreed. Certainly not everyone in that room has that privilege, but we were all there to bring these community members home, so we'll see what happens next.

Here is a photo from Raul, organizer extraordinaire.

What can you do? Please sign this petition! These were the three Tucson community members detained last night by illegal means. They are loving family members and valuable to the community, not criminals, and they deserve to be reunited with their families! Pass it along, and we will overwhelm the immigration judges. Not One More Deportation petition''

Any support helps! Your thoughts, prayers, and actions are so appreciated! 

Ni Una Más Deportación. Ni una más! Not one more deportation. Not one more!

This post is a follow-up to what I wrote last night. If you haven't read "Fuera, Polimigra," I'd recommend it so you understand the backstory of this one!

For a brief update: on October 8, four members of the Tucson community were taken away right in front of Southside Presbyterian Church, and my amazing housemate Steph was able to rally over 80 community members (including Southsiders) to non-violently protest the cooperation between local police and immigration authorities (aka Polimigra). Here are photos from today's press conference at noon, and there will be more action to demand justice for the Tucson community to come!

When we woke up this morning, Tucson was finding out about what we already knew. Here are press photos from last night's protest as the police short-distance pepper sprayed many of the peaceful protesters:
Photos: Protesters interfere with TPD traffic stop

Here was today's press release:
"Tucson, Arizona –Local Tucson Police Department (TPD) officers called Border Patrol on a worker and a loving father—Agustin and Arturo— Tuesday evening for a minor traffic stop. In response to this SB 1070 injustice, community members surrounded the Border Patrol vehicle locked in arms in order to protest the detention of Agustin and Arturo. The Border Patrol agents rushed-in to break the non-violent circle. About 20 TPD cars and 15 Border Patrol vehicles arrived to the scene. Agents pushed elderly women, threatened youth with tasers, shot people with rubber bullets, and pepper-sprayed community members.
Furthermore, Border Patrol interrogated random people on the sidewalk and took community leader Rosa Leal, even after she showed agents an Arizona driver’s license. They also handcuffed and detained local activist Mari Galup.
In light of the growing debate on immigration reform, collaborations between local police and immigration agents, as well as criminalization of migrants and militarization of the US-Mexico border continue. Our community does not stand for this.
The community demands that local TPD stop calling Border Patrol. Otherwise, Police Chief Villaseñor must go!"

Today at Southside, the community and the press turned out.

Channel 4 in front of Southside Presbyterian Church, our Tucson church home and where the protest took place last night.

Eleazar, husband of Rosa who was detained, speaks to the press beforehand.

Videographers for various media start setting up.

 

Community members ready to show their support in Southside's kiva, the sanctuary.

Protesters calling police chief Villaseñor to step down, and for an end to the Polimigra.

Raul Alcaraz Ochoa, friend of our housemate Steph, and now friend of our whole house (not to mention boss immigration activista!), and a young woman led the press conference in English and Spanish.

As one of the leaders of the Southside Worker Center that organizes and advocates for the rights of mainly day laborers and their families, Raul not only calls for justice with his powerful words, but also in his actions, having himself thrown his own body under Border Patrol vehicles twice in protest of detentions.

The intersection between church and state; faith and conscience.

By 12:15 the kiva was brimming, and the chants of "Ni una mas," (Not one more), "Si se puede" (Yes we can), and "No estas solo" thundered.

Dan Millis of the Sierra Club Borderlands chapter and BorderLinks' board member held up his sign: "If Rosa is a criminal, I am the tooth fairy."

At the press conference, I ran into Elsbeth, one of my BorderLinks supervisors on her day off! Here she is with her partner Mike.

Raul and the young woman did an incredible job laying out the main message, and then Rev. John Fife took the pulpit, a place he is rather accustomed to as the former pastor of Southside.

John Fife called out the police and Border Patrol for unlawful actions, namely racial profiling, inappropriate and illegal usage of SB 1070 legislation, and violence against a peaceful demonstration.

"I asked the officer what the charge was. 'No license plate light.' 'So why are you holding him?'" The reason for holding him? "He did not speak English and he did not have a driver's license." I'm sorry, what?! Would a white person, in either the driver's seat or the passenger's seat, be asked for their documents and held for Border Patrol to come under reasonable suspicion that he/she was in the country illegally?

"This did not need to happen. This was a simple traffic stop that should have resulted in a ticket and sending that person on their way..." There should have been no asking about documentation status, especially not of the passenger. There is no way a passenger should be asked or required to show identification, much less a driver's license. 

The passenger, Arturo in this case, should have been released immediately. And even under SB 1070, local authorities are not allowed to hold someone any longer than it would take to process the infraction: the traffic violation. You cannot just call Border Patrol and wait for them to show up.

When they did show up, Tucsonians formed a double circle around their van and refused to let it leave. In response to this action, people were pepper sprayed, sometimes within six inches of their eyes, shot at with rubber bullets that left marks, and many were thrown to the ground, including viejitas, little old women, as Steph said. "All of the violence was on part of the TPD (Tucson Police Department), all of it, without any attempt to diffuse the situation... Twenty Border Patrol agents attacked members of this community without any warning. They attacked peaceably assembled members of this community."

Those who enforce the law need to know the law. They need to know the discretion they are granted (to not call Border Patrol), and they need to know the parameters in which they can operate (so many violations as I have mentioned). Rev. Fife demanded a full investigation of the actions of the police and of Border Patrol, as well as their policy and training. Along with getting the remaining three out of detention, that will be the subject of further organizing for justice.

This is the 13-year-old son of Agustin, the first man to be detained. He left us all crying saying, "I need my father because he is my mother and my father at the same time... He's the most generous person... I've never been separated from him... Please give me my father back."

Remember Eleazar from the beginning, whose wife Rosa was detained? He came still had some incredible words, though. He introduced himself as "Eleazar Castellanos, padre y esposo." "Eleazar Castellanos, father and husband." Eleazar and Rosa heard about the hubbub at Southside and went to see what was going on with their friends and how they could help. Rosa stayed out of the fray, sitting on a curb and observing, and she was questioned by police including about her immigration status, apparently, or she would have not been taken away. Rosa showed her Arizona driver's license.

Eleazar said thank goodness for that. They have the privilege of having documents, he added. But the police kept questioning her. "Qué más pruebas quieres, señor?" she asked. "What more proof do you want, sir?" He continued with his own questions: "Why are the police doing the function of Border Patrol? Its not their job!"
 
And then the true heartbreaker: "I woke up without my wife for the first time in 25 years." I at age 23 cannot even fathom spending 25 years with someone, let alone waking up with them every morning for 25 years until one day they aren't there.

Finally, here is the wife of Arturo. She challenged the community: "How are they leaving us alone, in the shadows, with so much fear, with so many questions from our children? We need to live in freedom! We need our voice to be heard! We need our vote to matter! My husband is a good man. We are part of our parish and active in the community... This is our country too!... How do the police and the migra just keep doing whatever, detaining whomever?"

How can we deny this 13-year-old his only parent, all from a traffic violation? How much longer will we continue to separate families? All I can say is I am so shocked and saddened, and I guarantee you work will be done on this. I will keep you posted. Ni una mas! Not one more!

"Fuera, Polimigra."

It was about 8:30 pm. Heather, Amy Beth, and I were sitting on the couch, sharing photos of our friends and family back home, expecting Amy Beth's brother for his single-night visit. This may be his only chance to visit, or he may land the job from tomorrow's interview and start work in Tucson, once again close to his little sister.

Amy Beth had seen our housemate Steph, YAVA (YAV alum) who is well-connected in the immigration activist community and with the Southside Worker Center (organizes and defends the rights of day laborers and their families), post a little earlier on Facebook that one of the workers had been arrested. We collectively wondered how she was doing, so we all three texted her to check in. 

A little after 8:30, Amy Beth's brother, Andrew, arrived! We gave him the brief house tour, made plans for ping-pong on the back porch later, and plopped ourselves in the living room to chat. 

Heather received a text from her boyfriend who is an elder at Southside, saying that something happened. And soon, Amy Beth got a frantic call from Steph. While she insisted she was fine and could drive home, no. We introduced Andrew to Tucson by piling into his rental car and driving to Southside to pick up Steph and drive her back home.

 Everything was dark including the members of the crowd still lingering. Everyone was in the dark, but the media were still there.

Apparently this is what we missed, and Steph was in the thick of things: Southside Worker Center Border Patrol protest

As we found her, "Don't touch me, I got pepper sprayed," she said. "They started shooting us with como... pistolas de goma." Rubber bullets. She's Puerto Rican, so sometimes we communicate in Spanglish, and how would you ever find the words in your second language when you're shaken up. 

We tried our best to put the pieces together as the last people from the 80-plus-member crowd began to head their separate directions. An immigration lawyer was also on the scene, and people were exchanging information. 

In preparation for an upcoming immigration justice action this weekend, two separate groups had been meeting in different parts of town, and the Samaritans, a humanitarian aid group for migrants, all happened to be meeting tonight when Steph found out about Agustin's arrest. She was one of the first there, and because all of those groups were already together, it was easy to get over 80 activists there in a snap. 

Amy Beth went over to Eleazar, the parking lot coordinator of the Worker Center who helps connect day laborers with employers and fair wages, and Heather and I joined them. His wife, Rosita, had been detained as well. The lawyer assured him that they have a case and will definitely get Rosita out of detention, and it seemed like the shock had warn off enough for him to acknowledge there was nothing more that could be done at this point other than to go home and shower. What struck me was how he told us, "You just cannot trust anyone, even people you think are there to help you." In the middle of everything, it seemed like a few people had joined the protest and chatted, chistosos (joking), but they turned out to be ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) agents in plainclothes. All I could do was shake my head. Trust is something Arizona desperately needs. This is just days after California signed remarkable Trust Act legislation, and Eleazar for one feels he cannot trust the police, nor the government, nor people in plainclothes on the street, nor those who seem they are there to help.  

We drove Steph home and continued to debrief her experience of this madness. The media reported:
Traffic stop turns into immigration protest, TPD uses pepper spray
"The police officer conducted a records check and discovered the driver has never had a license in the United States or in Arizona. According to Hawke, SB 1070 law then required the police officer to  'mandatory impoundment' of the vehicle, arrest the driver and also required to call the Border Patrol."

That's actually false. SB1070 does not require police to call Border Patrol. In fact, it allows for discretion. That is precisely why protesters shouted "Fuera, Polimigra." Get out, Polimigra. Polimigra: policía + inmigración. The cooperation between local police and federal immigration authorities under Secure Communities legislation (Secure Communities Wiki) that leads to people being stopped for minor traffic violations, Border Patrol being called, and ICE starting deportation proceedings. The intention for this policy was greater cooperation for the deportation of people committing actual crimes, but it has served to drive even more fear into immigrant communities who were legitimately wary of authorities before, and now are even less likely to report crimes for fear of their own deportation. Who is secure? How is this healthy for communities when people live in fear and real crimes, not just traffic violations, are not reported?

On Facebook, Tucson News KVOA posted:
"A traffic stop turned into a protest on the south side. TPD says Border Patrol took a driver and passenger into custody, when police learned they were undocumented immigrants. But more than 100 people gathered around the scene near 22nd St. and 10th Ave. TPD did use pepper spray against some demonstrators police say were acting aggressive. But police say no one was seriously injured."

And later, this news clip:
KGUN9

Four community members were taken away tonight. Agustin, for not having a light on the front license plate of his truck. And side-note, he is undocumented. Mari, an activist and protestor. Another worker named Arturo, whose supposed offense I did not hear.

And Rosita, Eleazar's wife, a loving woman who took Steph in for the holidays last year and fed her homemade tamales, for sitting on the curb and being undocumented. "She's sick, Rosita is sick, and they took her away..." Steph recounted with heartbreak.

For resisting Border Patrol non-violently, protesters were pushed to the ground, and for continuing to resist, clouds of pepper spray came their way, inducing screams. Norma, the silver-haired volunteer doctor for the Samaritans, ended up with scratches all over her arms and legs. Steph said, "I'm what, 115 pounds, and he pushed me to the ground, saying, 'Oh you're so tough...' They pepper-sprayed a lot of people in the eyes... They just pepper-sprayed me all over... And he touched me, so I spat at him. I know that's considered violent, but I was just so angry." 

No matter how much you read in the news that this is happening, that while the government is shut down, they are still deporting 1000-plus people a day because that is a necessary matter of national security, it rocks our world when this actually happens to people you know. Welcome to Tucson, Andrew. Holding Steph's hand,  making sure she ate, drank water, and showered the pepper spray and the feeling of him touching her off, and being there for her was all we could do. Tomorrow, we get up and we continue the work laid out before us. Community organizing, educating, and working in solidarity. 

Please stay tuned. There will be an emergency press conference tomorrow at noon at Southside. Ironically, Southside's Pastor Allison is currently in Washington, D.C. advocating for immigration reform while all of this is unfolding right outside her church. We're working all the angles, folks. 

Minnesota

Oh the irony of checking in with a past student while the office soundtrack was for Mason Jennings, and my only album of his was "Minnesota." Sometimes, being away from Minnesota is hard. I am away from a number of people that I love! And while I'm completely immersed in the work I am doing here, I still try to keep in mind the people who touched my life in my work in Northfield last year. 

In the past week, one of the students I worked with some last year, who has a good heart, did something stupid and got arrested, and another told me about how he is trying to save up money for college, but it's hard on $7 an hour. He still told me he hopes to go back to school, asked me what schools are like in Arizona, and told me to stay smart and safe.

I told him, "You have a huge heart and inspire me. I hope people can see your heart in whatever you do!"

"Thank you. Means a lot from you, like I said before you're one of the smartest people I know."

Even though I am away in Arizona, Northfield's TORCH program and its amazing students are still in my heart!

Giving What I Got

One of my biggest struggles living on a small stipend which will basically go to bills and food this year will to not be able to financially support organizations and people that are struggling and/or are doing good work. I get a flood of emails every day from organizations to stay updated on their work, and while I would love to give even $10, this year I have to choose even more judiciously what and who I can support financially. Which is why it breaks my heart further when things happen like today.

When I was biking home from church, I stopped at a stop sign to turn left onto a busy street, and to my right was a large group of family members and friends putting on a carwash in the parking lot. A couple teenage boys called out to jokingly ask if I wanted my bike washed. Rain does that well enough for me (when we have it). But the traffic was still flowing, so three elementary-age girls ran over to me to follow up on the boys' question, and ask if I'd just consider making a donation. I asked, "For what?" "Our uncle." Now this is making assumptions, but that would most likely either mean their uncle is sick or in detention for an immigration violation and is hoping to get bonded out. (The Southside Worker Center actually does hold carwashes to raise money to pay bonds for their community workers who get detained so that they can be free and working while they await the decision of their deportation case). In either scenario, these little girls, this whole family, is missing their tío, and they are working so hard for him in his time of need.

Today I could pull out the only cash I had, a $5 bill, and nudge that family a tiny bit closer to ensuring the health and wellbeing of their tío. However, my intentional community in my house is pooling together all of our living stipends to pay the bills and meet our nutritional needs the best we can, and as we haven't paid a month of bills yet and are unsure what a month's worth of groceries for five mouths between Safeway, Food City, Food Conspiracy co-op, and the Community Food Bank will look like, we do not know how much money we'll have left over at the end of the month (for other things, like you know, bike equipment, vitamins, maybe fun things out on the town etc.). There are going to be countless scenarios this year where individuals, families, and organizations call out for monetary support, and in the case of individuals and families on the streets, the question of dependency and how much good you are actually doing is always tricky to navigate. So again, when my heart is broken and I want to support another's mission, on a simple living stipend, financial support is not a simple act. 

But just like everyone else who doesn't have much money to their name, when I am not be able to give financially, I can give my heart and my time. Time is also a privilege to have, though, because I do not have to exhaustingly work two jobs just to put food on the table for my family. Therefore I should be exhaustingly working for others to have more opportunities for decent, humane, good work that can provide for them and their families.