All posts by maiersj

People of “Privilege”

Human Rights, Migrant Death, Reflections

What would you risk for the chance at a better life?  If you are like me, then probably not much.  That is not to say that I haven’t sacrificed a lot in the pursuit of happiness.  I am a poor graduate student who has spent the last three years living in a different state than my wife because we both are following our career paths.  I rarely ever get to see friends or family.  Sleep has become more like a fond memory than a regular occurrence.  I’m here in south Texas volunteering my time to dig in a cemetery in the summer when temperatures average around  100 degrees.  When I compare the things that I have forfeited in the hopes of a better existence, it seems trivial when considered next to the tribulations of the people who try to cross the border.

A few weeks ago, several UIndy students and I had a conversation with Robin Reineke, an anthropologist who works on migrant deaths in Pima County, Arizona.  One of the things we discussed was the concept of “people of privilege”.  Let me take a moment to be abundantly clear:  This is not a diatribe about class warfare, and has nothing to do with social status.  By Robin’s definition, “privilege” meant not fearing death from starvation.  “Privilege” means no fear from institutionalized violence, or being killed for your political views.  The “privilege” lies in never actually considering those horrific events and never believing that they would actually happen to you.

This is my second year in Falfurrias.  It is both the most difficult and rewarding endeavor that I have ever undertaken.  It is both incredibly rewarding yet emotionally draining.  When I talk to other people about my work, they inevitably ask, “How has it changed you?”  In truth, it hasn’t.  I am the exact same “person of privilege” that I have always been.  I do not fear for my life or well-being, nor do I fear oppression or starvation.  The only thing that has changed is but the smallest notion of what might motivate another human being.  The only real difference is but a few lingering questions in the back of my mind.

Now, Let me rephrase the question.  What would drive you to walk across the desert?  What would cause you to abandon everything and everyone you knew and loved, just for the opportunity that your life might be better?  What might you give up for the chance at a better life?  Would you be willing to die knowing that your children might live without those fears?  How far would you go for that “privilege”?

Justin

Falfurrias Flashback: Texas Flood 2

Reflections, Snapshots

In the first installment of Texas flood I told the story of how the UIndy crew braved the elements.  It ended with every one of us drenched, dirty, and triumphant.  That is usually how the story ends, but it is actually where the story becomes interesting.  As we walked back to the minivan, still chirping from our victory and doused from our day, we were faced with an obstacle.  We were filthy and the minivan was a rental.  In the picture above you can see four sopping souls, none of whom you would let into your own car.

So what could we do?  At that point we were the only people left in the cemetery.  None of us had brought a change of clothes or even shoes for that matter.  The first suggestion was that we just remove our clothes so we could keep the van clean and dry.  Here is a question, what do you call a PhD and four master’s students undressed in a minivan?  A tailor, maybe?  Definitely a lawyer.  What if we got pulled over?  The next idea was to have someone back at our hotel bring us clothes.  This had its own problems.  No one had access to our rooms to get our clothes, plus we were asking them to drive through a storm into an area that was prone to flooding.  With all other options exhausted, we got creative.

In my first post I mentioned how Baylor supplied us with Tyvek suits.  They are synthetic suits that cover the whole body and are made to keep hazardous materials out, but in this instance we re-purposed them to keep the hazardous materials in.  We took turns in the field trailer stripping down and suiting up for the ride home.  Our new team uniform consisted of a white space suit and maybe a choice undergarment or two.    The best part of all is when we returned to the hotel someone was there to document our embarrassment.

Group photo of the UIndy team in full body PPE suits

“What are y’all wearing under there?”

The cliché “a picture is worth a thousand words” is an understatement.   In this photo you can see us all tightly zipped up into our Tyvek suits for modesty, with our bare feet poking out of the bottom.  If you look closely you can see us carrying bags and bins of our soaked clothes.  Everyone also has a sly look on their face, as if to say, “I know something you don’t know.”  Now the whole world knows the answer to that question.  You’re welcome!

Justin Maiers

Falfurrias Flashback: Texas Flood

Environment, Snapshots

As I said in my previous post, it is usually the little things that I remember the most, like the small victories.    One such victory happened on our last day in the field.  Our goal was to finish all of the remaining excavations in the quadrant in which we were working.  There was only one burial left before we were completely done, when a loud clap of thunder interrupted our work.  We were informed that large storm system was heading our way, and we only had a few minutes to evacuate the work site.  We were only a few shovels-full of dirt away from our finishing point, and yet we were told that it would soon be unsafe to continue.

Day 7 group photo with 7 fingers up, all frowns, and drenched shirts
Disheartened by the impending storm.

At this point I should mention that every day we took an end-of-the-day photograph.  We would all line up, hold up our fingers indicating the number of days in the field and smile for the camera in celebration of a hard day of work.  On this day in particular the photograph was much less cheerful  than normal.  We were all frustrated that we had come so close and were now being forced to leave.  The range of expressions on our faces varies from sad and disheartened to outright rage.  With the impending tempest nearly upon us, we begged Dr. Latham to plead for a few more minutes.  After a short bit of coaxing and prodding we were begrudgingly allotted 20 more minutes after checking the local radar, to which I excitedly responded, “Forget that, we’ll do it in 10.” (Choice words may have been “edited” for appropriateness.)

The group took flight with all of the speed and fervor of a swat team.  Most of what I remember is a hurried haze.  There was plenty of shouting and running, but not a single ounce of effort went to waste.  Every one of us seamlessly moved around each other like a school of feeding fish.  Within five minutes we had finished removing the soil on the surface of the burial, and within ten minutes the remains were out of the ground.

Day 7 group picture with all smiles and members soaked
Soaked and Victorious

You learn a lot about people by how they react when the chips are down.  If we hadn’t finished that last burial we would have ended on a sour note, and we would have been eternally haunted by our failure.  Without hesitation, every single member of the team placed themselves in front of the storm.  There was never a question about whether or not we should finish, we just needed that little bit of time.  We took another end-of-the-day photo to celebrate our victory.  I believe that these two photos show the true dedication and passion of all of us.  When a storm blocked our path, we showed that UIndy students are truly a force with which to be reckoned.

Justin Maiers