Basic Questions - Maddie Campbell

The times I’ve spoken to family and friends from back home, there have been three main questions that people tend to ask me.

1.) Do you like it?

2.) Are you having fun?

or

3.) (the basic) HOW IS IT?!

I still don’t really know how to answer any of these questions… I feel like there is no way I can give adequately answer without rambling on for ages.

Yes I “like it”. I love Tucson, my home stay family is GREAT, the classroom where I do my field study is one of the most inspiring places I have ever been, the classes I’m taking are excellent, and most importantly I am so so so grateful that I have this opportunity to be see, learn, work with, and experience all that is a part of this program

And yes… I am having fun. Tucson is awesome and I’ve met a lot of really amazing people!

But something inside of me feels weird about using the adjective “fun” to describe my experience and / or dwelling on all of the things I “like” about being here and doing this.



I feel like I’ve concerned some people in my attempts to give a truthful answer to the enthusiastic HOW IS IT?! question. In reality, this experience is great and amazing, but draining, intense, saddening, and a slap in the face. In reality, I’ve been happy and have had fun since I’ve been here, but I’ve also felt hopeless, guilty, sad, angry, and even completely unfaithful in the world and humanity.

I’ve gotten quite a few “are you okay” responses to the descriptions I have given of my experiences thus far. The answer I often feel inclined to give is no I’m not okay with this atrocity, this side of my country that I’ve been exposed to but I decided to come on this program because I felt that if this is happening, if people are suffering from dehumanization every day, I at least want exposure and I want it in its rawest form. There are plenty of people in the world who are not doing “okay”… and what gives me the right to just dillydally around in my sheltered world while people are suffering.

But then sometimes I ask myself what good is it for me to be here? Last Thursday, when we sat in on an Operation Streamline court proceeding, is one particular time when I felt this way.

During Operation Streamline, individuals whom were found crossing the border illegally are pressed with criminal charges (these can include incarceration for 6 months, 5 years of probation, or a $500 fine).

In the court room, there were 65 defendants (one of my group members counted) seated. Each one was wearing headphones for translation purposes and was placed in shackles. The judge announced that in this situation there is either the option to plead guilty or go to trial. Every attorney in the court today was representing somebody who plead guilty.

The judge tells the defendants to stand up “if you don’t know the nature or punishment for your offense” and/or if “you feel forced, obligated or intimidated to plead guilty.” A few individuals stood up after the first remark, mainly to clear up some details (often a result of language miscommunication) and nobody stood up for the second remark. I would be curious to see what would happen if somebody publicly revealed feelings of force, obligation, or intimidation.

Next the judge called between 6-7 defendants to come up at a time, accompanied by their attorney, to answer a series of questions. He asked “Are you pleading guilty today?” “Do you understand your plea?” “Do you object to your attorneys objections”

Each group would respond to these questions in unison with “si”, “si”, and “no” (the attorneys would translate each word… yes, yes, no)

The judge would then go through the line of defendants and ask “did you enter the U.S. illegally? Did you receive permission from an immigration official or U.S. government official in order to be here?” A decent amount of the defendants had even already been deported… meaning they had already endured this exact same process. It just blows my mind to comprehend what desperation could possibly lead people to place themselves in this situation once, not to mention MULTIPLE TIMES.



After the judge had finished questioning each group, Border Patrol agents would accompany them out in their shackles. Because I was sitting two rows away from the court I made eye contact with a few defendants as they were being escorted out. I kept the most neutral facial expression that I could because I didn’t know what would possibly be appropriate right then… but I felt so uncomfortable with just keeping a blank face, void of all emotion while looking into the eyes of people who had just risked their lives by crossing the border for nothing but to be put to shame.

All I wanted to be able to do was help them… even in the smallest way. If I could even just send my regards to them, to wish them good luck I would have felt better about the situation… but nope. Any form of communication was impossible at that point in time let alone any opportunity to REALLY better the situation. I felt hopeless. I felt guilty… guilty that I could just be watching this for my studies as a privileged student at a liberal arts school, guilty that I could just walk out at the end of the day and proceed with my problem-free life.