The Agony of Losing Your Dad
I punched the Alien number into the ICE locator website and the ACIS site as well. It had been over a week since the family last spoke to him. Him, the father of two little girls who were anxiously waiting to hear from him.
“Where’s Papi?”
I had promised her that I would give him a hug from her. The website says his case was determined by a virtual zoom court where he and many other fathers are detained. They have to answer three questions which governs their fate in this new dystopian world we find ourselves in.
- “Are you a citizen of the United States?”
- “Did you receive permission from a border agent to enter the United States?”
- “Do you have documents that prove you were allowed to enter?”
Then the choice.
Leave voluntarily, deportation, or appeal and wait in detention. Voluntarily means you have money to pay for a ticket, have a passport, and someone who can help you make the arrangements. Fit your entire life into a small carry-on sized suitcase. Leave on the date determined by ICE. Deportation means more waiting. Being moved to another state detention center and waiting in conditions unknown. An Appeal could mean the same thing with the same outcome: sitting in a warehouse while your life is frozen.
After frantic calls to Delany Hall someone finally picks up and says “Yes, the locator is correct.” By all accounts he should be there. My first visit to Delany with my companion revealed that the men are separated in groups and that group determines the time they can have visitation. 2B is his and it’s at 7:20 tonight. Arrive an hour early to wait. Dress the way they ask. I’ve been through the detention process before. The waiting is wearing on me now, it feels mechanical. Something we all have to do at certain times in our lives. Something we can’t side step.
I reached out to the volunteers camped out in a tent at Delany Hall. Kind people who have brought extra clothes in case a person needs to change to meet the dress code. Hot coffee and sweets for after the visitation, some supplies for those who may need diapers or clothes. Some coats hang in the back if someone needs it they can take it for free. Stickers with words of resistance on them.
They are waiting too.
Waiting to help, hoping to heal, finding ways to survive all of this. I think about my own dad. He is waiting silently at home for his kidneys to fail. Stage 5 kidney failure and heart failure. He waits for me too, to visit him and spend time with him. I think about the little girl waiting in a walk up apartment waiting for the phone to ring. To know her dad is still there. How little time we all have on this planet, in this existence. Why are we wasting it with this horror? Little girls need their fathers. Locking them away in detention when we have such limited time already breaks my heart into small fragments with nowhere to go but back to Delany Hall, hoping he’s still there to get his hug. Not like with other cases where they can’t find the detained person or don’t have their paperwork in order and realize they were moved to another state days ago without informing anyone.
This feels unbearable to me and I’m almost 50. I don’t know what a 9 year old is thinking about or how she’s coping in her classroom worried about her dad. I’ve had a short lifetime with mine and having him in my life has made all the difference.
So many children are now fatherless waiting to see if their father was deported. Cheated out of time and lives without them.
Some fathers wind up on buses in Texas or Louisiana waiting. Promises from the CPB number to call for money to leave are empty. No one is getting help. People are afraid to buy their own ticket and leave on their own. Being detained and taken into human warehouses is a real outcome now. Waiting in homes for things to pass, hiding. This is our new reality. This is what we are doing. This is where all your tax money is going.
Our community group is currently raising funds to help families like this one navigate legal fees and basic needs while they are ‘frozen in time.’ If you found strength in this blog posts message of ‘Together We Are America,’ please consider being the ‘WE’ that supports them here: https://venmo.com/u/Morristowntogether
Cosecha NJ is another group doing profound work in our community if you want to connect with them or donate:
Movimiento Cosecha es un movimiento popular y no violento luchando por protección permanente, dignidad y respeto para los 11 millones de inmigrantes indocumentados en los Estados Unidos. Creemos que a través de acción directa y la no-cooperación económica, podemos hacer un cambio.