Category Archives: Reflections

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

Trying to Understand

Since last year’s excavation in Falfurrias, we have strived to learn more about the migrants that cross the South Texas border.  I would say, personally, my knowledge regarding our borders has been very basic.  I am a Midwesterner, which generally means that issues such as these are far enough removed that we have facts and news, but we are not personally touched by it.

Driveway to the  Lasater Ranch with brush surrounding on both sides
Drive to the
Lasater Ranch

Let me explain a bit what I mean by that.  I remember visiting the Lasater Ranch last year, and being told by the ranchers that they would see a procession of several people walking across their land on a regular basis, close enough to be seen clearly from the house.  Reactions to this vary.  Some landowners set out water in an attempt to prevent deaths of these migrants who are so ill prepared to cross this very dangerous land.  Ranchers know their land is so expansive it can’t feasibly be monitored completely to prohibit entrance, so prevention is the next step.

The US Border Patrol does the same thing.  A lot of people misinterpret the mission of the border patrol, preferring to hold them accountable for stopping migrants at the border, and if that fails, for finding, detaining, and deporting any person without official documentation.  This is true, but it shouldn’t be overlooked that the US Border Patrol is concerned about preventing deaths and saving lives as well.  This fact didn’t really sink in for me until we were invited last year to attend a community meeting hosted by at the Falfurrias USBP station.  The first presentation started “We were able to save XX people this week…,” which was followed by a cheer.  Success in the mission is measured in lives saved.  They then went on to discuss strategies for saving lives that included various water stations with emergency phones for those in dire need, complete with instructions in English, Spanish, and Chinese.

Recently we returned from a professional meeting in NV, where we had a discussion with Robin Reineke of the Colibri Center for Human Rights.  One topic we discussed was whether the term migrant was an appropriate designation for the people crossing our southern borders.  It was proposed that refugee might be more appropriate.  The reason behind this was clarified further by Dr. Wendy Vogt of Indiana University-Purdue University Indianapolis in a guest presentation we hosted last year at UIndy.  Dr. Vogt is a cultural anthropologist that researches the journey migrants undertake to get to US border.  She also helped to illuminate why people would risk their lives and the lives of their children to reach the US.  People leave their homes, maybe starting in South America, and risk a perilous journey across Mexico.  A lot of the migrants climb to the top of a train they deem “The Beast.”  No tickets, no chairs, no seatbelts.  And what was most shocking was that it was a regular occurrence to fall from the train and lose limbs, if not their lives.

The people she interviewed at various stages of their journeys told her their stories.  I recall one of a young man and woman fleeing their country because he was given a choice to join the local gang or be shot.  There was also a mother that was fleeing with only one of her many children, who could have been no more than 10 years old.  The mother had fallen from the train and was in a wheelchair, stranded and unable to walk again without prosthetics.

A lot of migrants come from communities where shootings and randomized violence is a daily occurrence, and their lifespan and that of their children would be greatly improved anywhere outside of their country.  These countries are the ones that our US Department of State issues travel advisories that strongly advise against visiting.  We have an option of the level of danger we wish to face, many migrants do not.  It is very difficult for me to conceptualize this, having never been faced with a lifestyle or environment in which it would be healthier to flee than stay.  The people we hope to identify in Falfurrias have gone through so much, yet they still have a long journey to get home to their families.  With a lot of hard work and even more collaboration, we can hopefully supply some answers and closure to the many families missing loved ones.

Jessica

People of “Privilege”

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

Preparation

Today the panic of packing for two weeks on the border sets in. I have three different lists of things to take with me, but I still feel like I’m forgetting some thing.  For those of you that don’t know me, I’m a list maker. I have lists for everything and have introduced my students to the joys of the list. Our work requires special gear, and we are working in a very rural area which means we better not forget anything or it could potentially be a few hours drive to find it. My field gear list is color coded with items in pink that I needed to purchase before we left on the mission, items in blue that I could take from the lab and items in green that I could purchase in Falfurrias. While we feel slightly better prepared leaving this year than we did leaving last, we know that we must always expect the unexpected.

Field gear like measuring tapes, trowels, pins, north arrow, strings, and more all laid out before being put in the field bag
Field Gear

The highlight of my day was getting the field gear together. Dr. Baker brings the larger field gear to the site (shovels, screens, etc…), but there are certain things that we traditionally use in the field and like to bring along. After a little shopping and a little pillaging of the UIAFL (University of Indianapolis Archeology and Forensics Lab) we created a nice pile of gear to bring along. I have a sturdy field bag that we are transporting everything in.  But the field bag really seemed bigger to me before I realized I needed to fit two weeks of field gear inside. At this point I realized my experience as a UPS package car loader would be put to the test.  During my undergraduate years I worked the graveyard shift at UPS playing Tetris with cardboard boxes as I found  ways to make sure every package fit in the truck.  But that experience might not be enough in this particular situation, so I enlisted Ryan’s help. Ryan has a very special talent for packing large amounts of stuff into the smallest bag possible.  We tried several different combinations and after three tries we managed to get everything to fit in the field bag!  We were victorious!!

The orange and green field bag packed
Success!

For those of you following along with our posts you might see that – to date – the light hearted outweigh the serious. My hope is that no one interprets that as us making light of this crisis.  We, more than most of you reading this, know the true severity of this situation. I personally have lost track of the number of hours I have spent excavating the graves of the unknown, pouring over every detail of every bone of the individuals in my lab, negotiating gear or laboratory services, giving talks and presentations to bring awareness and advocating for those who were invisible in life and continue to be invisible in death.  I can say the same for my students. We bring humor and we bring light heartedness to this situation because there are days that we run out of tears and days that we cannot bear to have our hearts broken once again. As I write about packing I am also preparing myself for the mental and emotional challenges that wait for us in Falfurrias. The fact that I will cry more on any given day then I usually do in any given month. The fact that I will feel helpless and small in the face of something so large and disastrous. The fact that I have to be strong in front of my students and in front of the community and the families as they search for answers.  The fact that all this begins as our flight leaves in less than 12 hours…

Dr. Krista Latham