Category Archives: Reflections

Reflections on how we feel and how the mission is changing us

January 2019: Digging for a Deeper Connection

Reflections

As we approach this coming field season, I sit here with a house full of people I love and a heart full of conflicting emotions. I am so lucky to have been born into such a privileged family. We are celebrating the holidays in the comfort of a warm home with plenty of food, water, shelter, coats, shoes, and unnecessary luxuries that we are so fortunate to have been able to obtain through hard work and circumstance. Every year when I visit home, I am able to tell the people in my life what wonderful things I have been able to accomplish and experience through my graduate program. I am able to experience the positive correlation of “hard work” that “pays off” in a way that many people in the world may never be able to, simply because I am an American citizen.

I recently read the creative non-fiction, Looking for Esperanza, which tells the stories of various migrant women who the author encountered while searching for Esperanza. She attempts to understand some of the hardships these women encounter in their lives here in America by joining them to work in the strawberry fields in Florida to experience their daily lives firsthand. She struggled to labor under the scolding hot sun, planting hundreds of pounds of strawberries throughout the day for minimal pay. This is one of the many forms of intense manual labor that these women face in exchange for minimal wages that pay for tortillas and trailers to feed and support their families.

Last January, I participated in my first field season with Beyond Borders. To us, moving enormous amounts of rigid, compact soil from the ground was quite difficult. Our bodies became sore, and we were burning through calories which made us hungry throughout the day. When it was cold, we had the clothing we desired. When it was hot, we had the water we thirsted for. When we were hungry, we had the security of a nutritious meal in our foreseeable future. We realized how fortunate we were, so we always carried on with our positive attitudes, hopeful to make a difference in somebody’s life.

This January, I will return to South Texas with Beyond Borders to continue our mission. Being able to participate in the project last year was a career-changing opportunity for me. One of the biggest reasons I wanted to go to the University of Indianapolis was with the intention of volunteering and learning how forensic anthropologists can help with humanitarian issues taking place around the world. Not only did I get a glimpse into the struggles and conditions faced near the U.S.-Mexico border, but I witnessed the difficulty in regulating the treatment and processing of the many individuals who perish on their journey.

I imagine this trip will be quite different from my last. This time, I will have a team member as my mapping apprentice, who I will be teaching the basic principles of field documentation in forensic archaeological contexts. Learning to map at this time last year was critical for my involvement in cases at UIndy and has provided me with many great opportunities that I am excited to share with another student. In addition, exhumations will resume at Sacred Heart Cemetery in Falfurrias, which will be different from my previous experience on the private property we worked on last year. Since we are returning to Falfurrias, we already have plans to meet with some incredible individuals in the community who will have a unique perspective to share with us. Our team with be

Learning to map from the previous mapping expert (January 2018).
Learning to map from the previous mapping expert (January 2018).

immersed in the sociopolitical climate in a way that I have not experienced before. This is why I believe the biggest difference of all will be the depth of understanding that I bring away from the things I witness and people I meet this season. I am excited to continue building my ever-growing emotional connection with this crisis and cannot wait to return.

–Sammi

Baggage Claim

Human Rights, Migrant Death, Reflections
san-antonio-airport
Leaving Texas

It’s been two days. Two days that I’ve been out of the Texas heat, three since I’ve walked through the harsh terrain many others still traverse. The difference is that their lives are dependent on how they cross it, how well they conserve water, how well they hide. My life was not dependent on these things. Throughout my journey across the Texas scrubland, I had plenty of access to water, I was covered head-to-toe in sunscreen and bug spray, I had food and air conditioning to look forward to, and I did not have to worry about being seen by others. Before this trip, I had read about the migrant crisis, studied it through books and documentaries. I thought I could understand what these people face on their journey to what they believe will be a better life. The truth is that no one can know what migrants face unless you’ve faced it yourself.

The work the Beyond Borders team did was difficult, something I expected. What I didn’t expect was to realize how little I actually knew about the conditions migrants face. We covered 23 miles of land but I cannot describe it in a way that sufficiently demonstrates the true nature of the environment. I can say it was hot, I can say we picked ticks off our bodies by the dozen, I can say that sand is really hard to walk in. None of these explanations truly cover what our team experienced. If I cannot explain the harshness of the environment as we experienced it, I cannot imagine the true nature of the journey as a migrant does. I can’t tell you how it feels to sleep under the cover of trees, how panic sets in when I’ve run out of water, how adrenaline kicks in when I hear movement that may be from another person. I did not have to worry about those things, but the migrants that make this journey do.

A discarded sock
Material evidence shows where migrants have been. Here, a forgotten sock.

Since we’ve returned from Texas I find myself thinking of those who are still on those ranches, including the living and those that have perished along the way. I love being back home with my husband and my cats, but I know there are others separated from their families. I love sleeping in my own bed, though I know there are others trying to find a shady spot under a tree to sleep under. I’m able to go out to eat, go to the gym, to sit inside my house if I want to while others are missing, deceased, and/or unidentified. Why am I so lucky? Why am I not forced to make a decision to either remain in a place ravaged by conflict and poverty or to make a treacherous journey north that may very well cost me my life? I don’t know the answers to these questions, but I feel with all of the luck I’ve had in my life that I have an obligation to help those that are not as privileged as I am. I only hope that the work the Beyond Borders team did will mean something, help someone, or at the very least give someone hope that there are people in the world who have not forgotten them.

Before this trip, we were asked what we hoped to gain from this experience. I wanted on-the-ground knowledge about what the crisis was really like. Though the Beyond Borders team have only experienced a fraction of what migrants face on their journey, I feel that I have learned so much. I additionally feel an added weight that accompanies this knowledge. The emotional baggage is something I would never give back and I fully claim it as my own. While out to dinner with Sister Pam she said something to the group that stuck with me: “You become different people when you put your feet in other people’s shoes…it changes you”. I am forever changed by people I have never met. I have a drive to learn even more about the migrant crisis and to provide humanitarian aid sometime again in the future. To those who do this work day in and day out, thank you.

Sunrise in Falfurrias
Sunrise in Falfurrias

Angela

Back Home Again in Indiana

Reflections

After getting back to Indianapolis late Friday night, there were just a few days turn around before heading out to our annual regional conference in Nevada. The weekend was spent unpacking and resting, trying to get over the cold I picked up in Texas before taking another trip. My lengthy to-do list was staring at me, but it was too tempting to put it off another week until I’m home for good again.

These past couple days have been kind of like limbo in different ways – recovering from one trip, gearing up for another right away; knowing there’s a list of things to do, but not many tasks that can be finished before I leave again; playing the balancing game of buying just enough food to have enough but not too much to finish before I leave again for four days. I’ve never been crazy about this type of unsettled feeling, and this time it’s about more than just daily logistics.

Cleaning barrels
Cleaning barrels

While we were in Texas, we were working towards something big. Though it was easy to lose sight of that in the heat of the day and being focused on the work, there were always small reminders that we were there because of something much bigger than ourselves. Things like U-turns and window markers, phone calls about missing loved ones, fresh footprints in the sand, little kids’ backpacks, and the stories told by Eddie, Deputy Don, and a few other friends we made while down there.

I found myself forgetting the bigger context while I was working, or at least feeling one step removed from it. I had a blast building and filling water stations, riding around in Eddie’s truck and loving the kind of manual labor I used to do growing up on a farm. I also took notes on water usage, knowing that it meant there were people that had come through that route, but never really letting it sink in. In some ways, I feel like I’m still in that limbo of knowing the information, but not yet completely realizing the complete context that goes with it.

Truck adventures
Truck adventures

For every gallon of water we put out at existing stations, it meant that there was someone that had taken one previously. Without knowing their story of what came before or after their visit to that water station, it’s hard to know details about the individual people we are helping. But we can imagine, from the memories of others who have crossed. Regardless of the reason, it was strong enough motivation to risk their life crossing what I know to be a very unforgiving terrain. This summer will be especially hot and dry, which will only increase the danger of taking hazardous routes through the brush and the sand.

I know all this, and yet it was alarmingly easy to slip back into my normal routine at home. Already, our trip to Texas seems like a memory instead of happening just last week. I brought a few small snail shells back with me, to set on my dresser as a daily reminder to not forget my experience and what others will continue to go through. I look forward to sharing more of my stories with my friends and family, both to introduce them and remind myself of what’s going on outside my own little bubble in Indy.

Rachel