Operation Streamline by Jessye Weinstein

Operation Streamline, a taxpayer-funded Department of Homeland Security program, began in December 2006 as a measure to deter undocumented immigration. The way it works in theory is that undocumented migrants who are found in specific “enforcement zones” face immediate prosecution for up to six months in jail, and upon completion of their sentence, are formally deported with a newly developed criminal record. It is assumed that with this official finger wagging they will get the idea and never again attempt at “illegal entry.” The way it works in practice is slightly different. Every single day of the week, a room on the second floor of the Tucson Courthouse fills with people. The day I observed the proceedings there were 76 migrants with ten public defenders to represent their cases. Some of the public defenders had difficulty pronouncing their clients’ names, and one hadn’t even shown up that day, forcing his eight clients to be assigned on the spot to a new lawyer they had never before spoken to.
The men and women wore shackles around their wrists and ankles, and when called forward were forced to make their way as best they could to the front of the court. I say ‘as best they could’ because a combination of leg chains and shoes without shoelaces (standard safety precaution) makes walking quite difficult. Many migrants get detained in the desert, are processed and sent straight to court. It became clear from the way that many limped that there were still blisters and sprains that had not been attended to properly. One man on crutches had to ask for a wheelchair to bring him forward because his various shackles did not permit him use of his crutch.
The judge tore through the line of men and women. Are you guilty of illegally entering into the United States? One by one guilt was admitted. At the end of each round the judge would pause to ask if anyone had anything they would like to say. One woman stepped forward, allowing her voice to break only once as she spoke. There was a moment of silence as the translator turned to address the judge, “Please forgive me for having entered into your country. I only came because my two children are here and they need me.”

“Securing our nation’s borders from a potential terrorist threat and from the illegal entry of people, weapons and drugs is absolutely paramount.” –David Aguilar, Chief of Border Patrol.

At the end of the two-hour court hearing, all 76 had been sentenced, and in a single-file line they exited through a side door of the courtroom. The same proceedings happened yesterday, and the same will happen tomorrow and the day after.

Operation Streamline

big white shoes with tongues lolling, reaching forward as if
still thirsty from the desert

do you understand?

stand up if you understand.

a pause, as comprehension dawns through a black translation headset
then a clinking of leg chains as lines of big, white shoes shuffle to allow their brown owners to rise

andrés sanchez, jorge martinez
the names crunch like steel from mouths whose voices are strangled by neckties

does the cool of the court feel good after days in the screaming sun?
culpable, your honor

does the efficiency of our justice system astound you?
culpable, your honor

look at this courtroom. look at your benches. look at their benches. did you really think that by crossing a line you would suddenly not find yourself on the other side of the divide? did you really think that you would break free of your shackles?

culpable, your honor

It’s a warm 72 degrees here in Tucson. Please make sure to exit with all of your belongings. We hope you will remember us during your future travels, and may I be the first to welcome you to America.

do you understand?

Update from Miriam: Operation Streamline and Altar

Hello, I’m Miriam Dolnick. I’m in Tucson by way of Earlham College, by way of Chicago, IL my home. This has certainly been a week of emotional tumults. We began last Monday by going to court to watch the process of Operation Streamline. Streamline is a program that started in 2005 and has been in Tucson for only the past year. It began with the intention of arresting and convicting in federal court a goal of 100 migrants a day who were caught crossing the border. The idea from border patrol’s standpoint is that convicting migrants and creating a criminal record for them will lower future border crossing due to the risk of greater consequences. Each day at the Tucson courthouse dozens of migrants are tried (last Monday there were 76 people) and given prison sentences from 3 to 180 days. When they are released, they are often intentionally separated from those that they have been traveling with, even driven hundreds of miles away from the location they were picked up in, in order to make their journey more challenging.
It is an extremely difficult process to witness. As soon as you enter the courtroom, the first thing that you notice is the sounds of chains. All 76 of the migrants that were on trial were handcuffed and in leg shackles. Being in the presence of 76 people wearing leg shackles is alarming in such an emotionally physical way. While sitting and watching this process I felt completely powerless. The fact that as witnesses we were forced to sit behind the United States prosecutors was also hard to stomach. The 76 migrants being tried were represented by no more than six lawyers who read the names of the men and women they were representing from a list at the beginning of the session. When the men and women who were on trial were asked questions (such as if they understood aspects of what was happening in the courtroom, what it meant to be pleading guilty, etc., all of which was difficult for anyone who had never seen the process before to understand) they had to respond in unison (sí or no), if someone had a question they were asked to stand. No one ever stood up.
Though we’ve been learning about the inequality and the oppression that takes place along the border for the past month, I feel that this was the first time we were forced to witness people being treating so poorly. The court case was simply a series of motions. No one was being tried fairly, and everyone seemed to be frustrated, the migrants, lawyers, the judge, us. Some of the major criticism for Streamline is that it’s an ineffective use of resources. That time and money is being spent not prosecuting the “real crimes.” Because of this process, the prisons are overflowing with people and many cases involving drugs and sex crimes are being pushed to the wayside, all just to prove a point. I think we all left the courthouse feeling physically drained and angry, unsure of what, if any, power we had to change things. I think one important thing that I took away was the understanding that the American public has very little knowledge about this happening, and even less knowledge about what the process itself looks like. The most frustrating thing is that we, as taxpayers, are funding this atrocity. This experience was both moving and infuriating.
Later in the week, we went to Altar, Sonora. Altar is a small city about an hour south of the US Mexican border that is a big meeting spot for migrants and coyotes before crossing the border. It was immediately clear when we got there that Altar is a city whose major economic income is based on the migration of people. Every store around the plaza sells backpacks, shoes, hats, talcum powder, Band-Aids, electrolyte drinks. Every other house is also a casa de huespedes, a guest house for people who are passing through. We stayed in a migrant shelter that is run by the church. It makes a point of being a clean, safe, and free space for migrants to stay and have a meal while they are in Altar. It was a beautiful place to stay (nicer than many hostels), especially in comparison to casa de huespedes that we visited, one room filled with bunk beds with only wooden planks to sleep on. Many people end up staying at places like those rather than the shelter because their coyotes want to keep track of them and scare them from leaving them and being out of their control.
It was challenging to be in Altar for many reasons. Our group of very privileged students of course did not go unnoticed. We were crossing paths with so many people who had most probably been through quite a bit to get to Altar while we had simply carried our passports and hopped into our van to get there. Others were about to embark on a likely terrifying journey north. Many people weren’t in the mood to talk about it, though others were eager to share where they were coming from and where they were going.
I ended the week by going on a Samaritans run early Sunday morning. Samaritans is a volunteer organization that goes out into the desert to do water drops and bring food and other sorts of aid to migrants who are in need. One other volunteer and I left Tucson at seven a.m. to drive through the desert after a particularly cold and wet night. Driving along dirt roads that only ranchers use and watching the sun rise was incredibly beautiful. It was such a good reminder to feel what the desert is like after a month of such intense reading about it. We came across one person, in the custody of border patrol, who had spent the night in the cold and was clearly hypothermic. The officer was not only doing little to help him but also warned us that he was a “criminal alien” when we asked if there was something we could do. We were able to give him some warm clothes and some coffee. He asked us to pray for his children.
It was quite the intense week emotionally, physically, and academically. We are leaving for Mexico very soon though and are about to embark on a completely different phase of the semester.