Immigration and the Children of God – Emily Ewing

As I ended my third year of college in Decorah, Iowa in May of 2008, US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) conducted what was, at the time, the largest immigration raid in US history in the nearby town of Postville.  They rounded up so many beloved children of God that the only place they could think to put them was, like cattle at a nearby fair grounds.

The government came into this small community of Postville, IA, a self-identified “hometown to the world” where people from many cultures and religions were learning how to be a community, and the government caused chaos and panic.  Children, coming home from school had no idea where their parents were and the next day one half of the students didn’t return to school.

Beloved children of God were working hard in poor and at times abusive conditions at the local slaughterhouse and meat-packing plant.  They were supporting and providing opportunity for their families one day, and were taken away the next.  They were treated as if their whole being was illegal.  Even the courts later ruled that their treatment was inhumane—illegal.  They were treated like the animals killed and processed where they worked.  Their humanity was lost.

During the following fall, I spent time each week with some of the women who were fighting deportation in the courts.  They wore a shackle around their ankle, tracking their every move, and had to sit still for 2 hours a day to charge it.  They needed to support their families and so were released from detention on “humanitarian grounds” and yet were not allowed to work to provide for those same families.

I met with these women and officially we worked on learning more English and navigating US customs and bill-paying.  In reality, we talked about whatever they wanted or needed to talk about and I learned from them.  These women who had survived the journey over walls, under fences, through the water and through the desert to cross borders for themselves and their families also had to survive the terror of the immigration raid.  In the time I spent with them, I learned of the struggles they faced in the countries they came from and the trust and hope they had for their lives in the United States.

Some people refer to these women and other beloved children of God as “illegals” and a quote from Nelson Mandela comes to mind.  He said, “When a [person] is denied the right to live the life [they believe] in, [they have] no choice but to become an outlaw.”

One year later, in May of 2009, on the anniversary of the raid, we gathered and I was introduced to the power of people.  Hundreds of us gathered in the small town of Postville to remember.  We remembered those who had been sent away, back to the countries they had come from.  We remembered those who were still struggling in the courts.  We remembered the families torn apart.  We remembered the children who did not know where their parents were.  We remembered the cruelty of it all.  And we declared to those who were with us, the survivors, that it was not ok.  It was not the “American way.”  And we committed ourselves to immigration reform—humane immigration reform.

And so it is that through my experiences with these women, I developed a passion for justice in migration.  I learned deep in my heart some of the pains of economic exploitation, racism, and xenophobia.  I learned how they intersected to disadvantage the people of Mexico, Latin America, and South America.  I learned from amazing, strong women and none of us would be the same after that year.

I do not know what ended up happening with their court cases and I can only hope that when I left others were able to take my place as the community continued to support them.  I do know that they keep me going.  This past year, I participated with Communities Creating Opportunity in a Prayer Rally and Vigil for humane immigration reform.

My participation and voice for compassion and wisdom in our laws around migration was born out of my experiences in that small town in northeast Iowa.  Today beloved children of God live in the shadows because of a system set up to bring them here as cheap, sometimes free, labor.  Lives and families get torn apart by cruel immigration enforcement.

We as a country and we as faith communities are stronger when we are together.  When all of God’s beloved children are free to earn a living wage, to work without fear, and to be called, not “illegal,” but beloved.  Most of us live somewhere different than where we were born.  The difference is that the laws have been set up for me so that every time I move I am able to acquire the proper documentation.  Others do not have that privilege, but it doesn’t change their ultimate status.  No matter our documentation, or nationality, our language, our citizenship, God calls each person, “Beloved child.”

Emily E. Ewing is a native of Colorado and a graduate of Luther College, Decorah, IA.  She served her year-long internship at Immanuel Lutheran Church, Kansas City, and has returned to the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago, where she is completing a Master of Divinity degree.  She is a candidate for ordination to the Ministry of Word and Sacrament in the ELCA.