We are watching a show on NetFlix called The Kindness Diaries.  The host is traveling the world hoping to live off people’s kindness.

One man that gave him a place to stay in Tijuana was an immigrant who had been deported. He had a shabby little place with cots to share for those with no home.

The part that struck me was that his wife is American and his children were born in America. He said they are struggling mightily with him away. He then showed the host the wet suit he wears to try most nights to swim back to his family. He said one man died recently trying to do the same.  When the host asked if it bothered him that it was illegal, he hesitated and quietly said “How could I ever tell my children that I HAD NOT TRIED to get back to them?”

I was profoundly struck by that; his responsibility to his family.

I am certain many think he is wrong. I suppose we could go to and fro about that for a long time with worthy points on all sides. The immigration crisis is real.  It is a logistical nightmare. Solutions are needed and I/we don’t seem to have them.

But, in the meantime, families are torn asunder.

That is one reason why Joe and I are heading to the border next month, to be a titch of help and to gain SOME understanding.

I suspect, however, that I will return with more questions than answers.

BUT, back to our wet suit man.  What I ponder is why we choose language such as ‘illegal alien’ for those seeking asylum?

Language matters;  as soon as one says “illegal alien”, the word ‘criminal’ comes to mind and we begin to ‘criminalize’ an entire group of people...and THAT allows us to treat them with less care...and THAT flermookles me.

Because, I just do not believe that dad is a ”criminal”.