I am a community development worker (also, missionary, if that term doesn’t make you roll your eyes) in Honduras, Central America. My work involves seeing firsthand the havoc that an unstable economy, lack of education, gang activity, generational poverty, violence, and the drug trade can wreak on families. The truth is that, not unlike our Central American neighbors, the situation here is not great. And that’s why I’m here.
But? It’s not all bad. This is a beautiful country with such a rich history and culture and beautiful people. (so beautiful I married one of them) Yes, I have to be much more cautious living here than back home, but I’m not here because my main priority is self-preservation obviously. There’s a greater purpose.
Note: I recently read an opinion article by the daughter of Honduran immigrants living in the U.S. and she tore this country up talking about the danger. It was pure sensationalism. She literally said that when she came here recently the airport provided her group with police escorts in order to travel down a main highway to a city several hours away “because of how dangerous it was” – a route that my husband and I take at least 3 times a month. Major facepalm because… that’s just a little dramatic and completely unnecessary.
Although much of my naive idealism from my college days has dissipated, I still believe that small, consistent efforts can bring lasting change. (I have to add that I am only one of many here, foreign and local, in Honduras who are promoting change) I am here because I answer to a higher calling and I can be here because, honestly, I have a certain safety net that others here do not. To live the poverty that those around me experience on a daily basis means to have limited options and limited resources and that leads to a lifestyle that is tunnel-vision focused on surviving day-to-day. The pain of not being able to make choices about your own life is one of the most hopeless feelings. It’s so much deeper and complex than just a financial desperation.
I’m writing this in the middle of what has become an international crisis: the majority-Honduran caravan of migrants headed to the U.S. border. About a week ago my husband and I heard about a group of about 1,000 Honduran migrants meeting at the San Pedro Sula bus terminal with plans to march to the United States. (google it if you haven’t heard) It has since grown and each day as we read articles or see news clips, our hearts hurt. Not because it could be a political stunt or because it makes so-and-so look bad or even because it will certainly incite an uproar and/or reinforce stereotypes – but because among the crowds there are probably many desperate people, just like the ones we encounter every day, truly in need of asylum, refuge.
And guess what? Some of you reading this probably only ever have to think about immigration as a hot-button political issue and only when it’s breaking on the news. Here in Honduras it is woven into the fabric of almost every life and comes up in every other conversation. Here it has very little to do with politics and everything to do with quality of life or even survival.
I don’t like breaking rules. I follow laws and I expect others to do the same. Did you know that arriving at the U.S. border to seek asylum is legal? There is actually a legal process to protect those who arrive at our borders fleeing oppression or violence. One of the many loopholes in the system is that many asylum-seekers are unfairly denied representation in court and therefore aren’t able to plead their case. And they are sent back. This system has been broken for a while but you only hear about it when a major crisis comes up. (Unfortunately, I don’t think the caravan is the best way to seek asylum. I worry how this is going to unfold.)
I’m reminded right now of two particular individuals that I knew personally who died as victims of violence here, one who should have fled and one who had just returned from the states as an undocumented immigrant. Maybe their stories would have ended differently had they been granted asylum.
For every person who flees their country there is a unique reason, a push factor. It would be irresponsible to say that every person flees for the same reason or has the same fear or needs. (We also can’t deny the very real pull factors that exist in the states either.)
In some of the communities where we work it is resoundingly clear that the two great aspirations that young people have to choose between is drug trafficking or migration. (This also includes internal migration toward industrialized cities) They simply have no options.
As a missionary and immigrant activist (yes, they can be synonyms) I like to think that the work we do in Honduras, even on a small scale right now, is helping eliminate some of those push factors in our target communities. Without blatantly saying it we are communicating, “Stay. There is opportunity for you here. You can provide for your family and you can contribute to your community.” We can’t buffer every need or eliminate real threats or even convince every individual to stay who personally tells us that they’re considering the trek north. We can remind them that the “American Dream” is not necessarily all it’s cracked up to be. We can speak positively about the nation of Honduras, discourage escapist mentalities, and plant a seed of hope for the future. I truly believe that a generation is coming up that is going to change the course of this nation for the better. ❤
That’s why we are so adamant about the formation of little minds – education is so important and will have a much bigger impact on a much larger scale down the road. As for the migrants headed north, only God knows what they are truly running from, but I pray this over them as they’re on their journey:
Jesus see the traveler
Jesus see the traveler on their long, hard road
See the mother, see the father, see the child
Have mercy on the traveler
Lord make soft the strangest bed
Rest the weary feet
Of the mother, of the father, of the child
Have mercy on the traveler
[written by Sara Groves]
*For extra inspiration listen to “God Help the Outcasts” from Disney’s Hunchback of Notre Dame*
I’ll add one more note: If you have a heart for foreign missions or you have been touched personally on a mission trip or by a friend from another country, I hope you allow God to soften your heart toward the immigrant and refugee. If you know a missionary working in a country from which immigrants are fleeing, support them! They’re essentially working against all the conditions that expel individuals. I won’t quote scripture here because I’m embarrassed at how it has been used as darts against those who don’t agree with us but know that the Bible/our Savior is clear on what posture we as Christians should have toward the foreigner. If you don’t have a personal connection to this heavy topic of immigration I pray you become friends with someone who does and you’re able to hear them out on a human level. As author Sarah Quezada has said, “Relationships are an anecdote to fear.”
Good resources if you are curious about the topic of immigration from a Christian stand-point:
- World Relief organization and the book, Welcoming the Stranger, by Matthew Soerens and Jenny Yang
- Love Undocumented by Sarah Quezada
- Podcasts: The New Activist, Upside Down Podcast, Chasing Justice
- Evangelical Immigration Table
I wrote about my first immigration encounter in high school here.