By Sally Kohn
The first thing I noticed about Juan when I met him is his presence. For a young man, just graduated from high school — that period when most of us were shy and awkward at best — Juan is confident and vocal, the kind of person with clear potential to be a leader in whatever field he might choose.
The second thing you notice about Juan is the sadness in his eyes. His country, the only home he has ever known, decided his potential is irrelevant — that no amount of talent and passion and vision and drive could ever overcome the fact that he and his family once crossed our nation’s borders without permission. It’s as though Juan the person doesn’t exist without Juan the paperwork. In our country, he’s treated as a number — one to be reduced or feared.
Fear is one of the dominant motivating and manipulating forces in politics today. Some have tried to convince us that we should be afraid of immigrants, exploiting our fear about our jobs, healthcare and the economy, while pointing fingers at immigrants and saying they’re the cause of our problems. These are problems that have existed for years, deep flaws in the distribution of wealth and opportunity in our society, and undocumented immigrants are just the latest scapegoats. Fear is used to distract us while the real problems only grow.
The other motivating force is usually pity. But that’s not the answer either. Pity is equal parts compassion and isolation — a sort-of thank goodness that it’s not me in his shoes. Pitying Juan would rob him of his dignity and power — and absolve ourselves of responsibility.