I am an immigrant

Just a few days ago, President Trump made an announcement repealing the DACA (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals) program, which granted a temporary reprieve to the threat of deportation to immigrants who were not here legally, but arrived while under the age of 6 years old. Generally speaking, I’m a fairly callous person, and am not surprised or particularly emotionally impacted by Trump or politics in general (which is not to say I agree with most of it, I disagree with Trump very strongly on many issues, and am in *no* way in support of him as President), but I’ve been overwhelmed with a feeling of depression and anger, along with a feeling that it could be me.

Most people who look at me would have absolutely no idea that I am an immigrant (unless I told you). I’m privileged enough to be a white male who arrived here when I was young, so I don’t carry any accent of my home country, even though I speak the language. I’m additionally blessed with the lucky circumstance of being born in Helsinki, Finland. The way US immigration policy tends to work is to have various quotas for each country, with the quotas having an absolute percentage cap. This means that if you come from a country with either a large population or a large number of immigrants to the US, then immigrants have to enter a lottery to be able to get things like a Visa, or a green card (officially known as a Permanent Resident card). Finland has a relatively small population, and a relatively low number of immigrants to the US, and so I’ve never had to enter a lottery. I can’t say my experiences with the US immigration system have been particularly pleasant, but I also haven’t had any particularly negative experiences beyond just dealing with a bureaucracy.

I came to the US when I was very young, when my dad was a graduate student. I’ve always spoken native languages with my parents, so luckily for me, I’ve retained my non US citizenships, as well as my foreign languages. Since then, I have become a US citizen. I’ve participated in every major election that I’ve been eligible for, and it’s something I’ve never taken for granted. I have a new found respect for working inside the system, and taking advantage of the opportunities that US society and government has offered me. I’ve paid my taxes, and although I never like doing it, I also understood that paying taxes was the way that the US government operated, and how it funds infrastructure and other services that we all count on. I don’t always agree how our tax dollars are spent, but I’ve always considered that part of the bargain in return for not having to worry about whether the roads are going to be driveable, or whether the police will show up when called, or any number of other services that are regularly provided through the taxes the US collects. I always understood this obligation, even before I could vote, and therefore had no political say in how my tax dollars were spent.

I’ve certainly had my issues with how America is run, but during all of my life here, I also believed that America was a land of opportunity. I liked the system that gave us the freedom to do what we want (within the law), and believed that opportunity was something that we all experienced to varying degrees, but was nonetheless available to us.

I’ve also been aware that I’m privileged to be a white male who grew up around computers, and that while my skill with computers is certainly something I’ve contributed to and worked hard to achieve, but given a different time, or place, or parents, I might not be so lucky. I might have been born in 1900, when a computer programmer’s skills might not have been as useful. I was born as a white person, with blond hair to boot, so I haven’t had to deal with oppression from those around me, and I’m well aware that I’m given a much higher benefit of doubt than if I’d been born with a different skin color. I also might have been born as a woman instead of a man, and that might have made my career in technology play out very differently, even given the same set of skills.

I don’t want to give the impression that I don’t feel like I have contributed to my own success, I do feel like I play a large role in it, but I’m also well aware that given a number of different circumstances that could have played out, that luck also played a very large in my success. This awareness also tends to drive my own generosity (I’m not claiming to be a particularly generous individual here, but I do try and be generous within my own capabilities, and I’m talking about what drives that generosity). I firmly believe that a rising tide lifts all boats, that very few things that we do in life are zero sum. I also believe that if I can contribute to my neighbors doing well, than that improves their lives, and mine as well. I get to live on a nicer street, and I have a good relationship with them, and I can, with some degree of confidence, rely on their own good will when I need help. I recently asked my neighbor to help me move a heavy desk upstairs, and I’m sure he obliged because he’s a nice guy, but he also obliged because I try and be a good neighbor. If he asked me to do the same, I wouldn’t hesitate to help him out either.

I participate in this sort of reciprocity because it benefits me. I know when I’m out town, my neighbors will report suspicious activity. If I need a tool, or help moving a table, I can ask one of my neighbors, and get a hand. It means that when I want to move that table upstairs, I don’t need to hire movers to do it, and I don’t need to buy every tool I might ever use. It also means that I pay my taxes so that I don’t have to think about repaving the street in front of my house, or putting out a fire, or taking the garbage out any further than the alley behind my house. It means that if I have a dispute with someone, there’s a court system and law enforcement that I can turn to (in an ideal world). Not having to worry in particular about every potential bad outcome means that I can spend my day doing things like writing this blog post, or programming computers to make a living, instead of defending my house from intruders, putting out fires, and taking my garbage to a landfill/dump. I want to live in a society where people don’t assume the worst about me, and I don’t have to assume the worst about them.

If we, as a society and as a country, decide to view everything through the lens of a zero sum game, then all of the ideals I talk about above become less relevant. It means that I need to worry about what anyone I interact with is going to take from me, and it also means that as a society, I don’t know that in the event I’m wronged, that society will (generally speaking) help protect me or do right by me. When I’m feeling particularly pessimistic, it’s hard not to see it becoming a death spiral. In the grim future, we all trust our neighbors a little less, and they trust us a little less. We’re all opportunistic, and if it benefits them to be shitty to me, they’ll do it, and I’ll do the same. We can no longer count on the justice system, or the police, or the the city government, to do the right thing.

I know that there are a ton of things that Trump has said or done that horrify people, and people who support Trump will complain that once again the left, or the liberals, or the SJWs are just being whining and complaining, and look nothing has happened yet! It is happening, it just hasn’t happened to *you* yet.

So looping all of this around to the present, I’ve become incredibly disheartened by the decision to repeal DACA. I’ve been horrified and hugely concerned about quite a number of Trump’s decisions, but when expressing those concerns, I’m often told that as a white male, I don’t personally need to worry about these things much. Those things may give solace to those who make the statements, but they have never done much to console me. When I mention that, my concerns are nonetheless dismissed as something that “we” (white males) don’t need to worry about. But this is something that affects me, and it is something I take personally, and it is something that gives me a huge amount of concern. I may not be an illegal immigrant, but I am an immigrant, and I stand with those affected by DACA. Those are my people, I’m one of them, and not one of you (Americans) despite my American citizenship. I came to this country as a child, and I didn’t have any choice in the matter. I only happen to be lucky enough to come from a country where legal immigration is easier, and happen to have parents that went through those steps. But I am nonetheless an immigrant who didn’t have any choice in the matter, an immigrant who was brought here as a child;  I’m just more fortunate than the DREAMers are.

These decisions that the Trump administration is making are not just affecting the “other”, but it is affecting the people you know. It affects the people around you, whether you choose to see it or not. It’s not just brown people, or black people, or women, or any other group. It’s your neighbors, your friends, your family, and your co-workers. And maybe you are “lucky” and don’t know anyone affected by these things. You don’t know anyone yet. But one thing I am certain of, you’re not one of Trump’s peers. And that means that he hasn’t fucked you yet. But have no doubt, he will. It’s your job, as one of the people privileged enough to be able to speak out to do so, because there are many that cannot. If you choose not to see, then that’s on you, but I hope this post forces you to look.

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