Why America Desperately Needs Immigration Reform
Growing up in El Monte, California, a small working class city just 20 miles east of Los Angeles, I thought I knew everything there is to know about the illegal immigration issue. In El Monte, you see them everywhere. I see them working in the kitchen of Chinese and Mexican restaurants. I see them wiping down the bumpers of the soapy cars at the car washes. They sell bags of oranges off the freeway exits. Whenever I go to Home Depot, I see a few dozens waiting outside to be offered hard manual work. Throughout the 1990s and the beginning of the millennium, I witnessed firsthand my city’s demographic slowly transformed from a predominantly working class Chicanos to a city consisted of first-generation immigrants fresh from Mexico, many of whom do not speak English fluently, many of whom crossed the border illegally. My friends and relatives who weren’t from my city seemed surprised to find my lackadaisical attitude toward the entire situation. “Aren’t you afraid? Why don’t you move out,” they would ask. I tell them that they don’t bother me. In fact, I’m glad that they are here. They work hard, most of them stay out of trouble; they keep the market prices of fruits and vegetables low; they mow my grass on the cheap; whenever I need hard manual labor to be done, I know where to turn. Life, I believed, was good with them around. That’s until the illegal immigration issue affected me personally. Two months ago I went back to my hometown for temporary leave from the Army. My youngest sister, Sarah, who at the time was eight, came home with a report card filled with Cs. Needless to say, I was surprised. I’ve always assumed Sarah to be a bright, happy, intuitive child. Certainly, she’s a lot smarter than me when I was her age. I asked her what the issue was, and she simply replied, “She hates school.” Unsatisfied with her