Category Archives: Human Rights, Migrant Death

Talking about the project itself

The Internship at STHRC: It begins!

Human Rights, Migrant Death, Reflections

Ryan's work station with a computer and some paperwork

I have started my internship position as the Forensic Anthropology and Administrative Fellow at the South Texas Human Rights Center in Falfurrias, TX and I can easily say that I’ve hit the ground running. I hadn’t even been in the state for a week before Eddie called and asked if I’d be interested in joining him at the Texas State Capital to observe a meeting. Fortunately, I only live a couple of minutes away from the Capital in Austin, TX, and so of course I jumped on the opportunity. For the sake of brevity, the meeting was mostly about the progress being made and the next steps that will be taken to keep the ball rolling.  It was an exciting experience to say the least.

Last week I began making the 4hr commute from Austin to Falfurrias to begin the internship. I take back roads instead of the traffic-jammed highway, and I’ve loved the drive every time. Mentally, it serves as a reminder that while the humanitarian crisis might feel far away, it’s extremely close.

I have huge shoes to fill. The amount of work that Hailey was able to accomplish in such a short time is mind boggling. I’m extremely thankful for and inspired by the amount of data she’s collected, collaborations she’s created, standard procedures she’s developed, and wheels of progress that she’s set in motion. I’m determined to meet the bar she’s set, and set the bar higher if that’s even possible.

I’m in my second week now. I meant to write something last week, but my brain was exhausted after the first week here. I spent the week looking over spreadsheets of data and folders of missing persons reports in order to figure out the standard procedures Hailey set in place for me. I kept getting distracted by each individual missing persons report; each story was extremely intense and it was hard to put a report down without wanting to research every detail. I found myself following highways on maps, researching cell phone companies, and jotting down notes that I could research later when I had time to look through other databases. I know that right now that my goal is to help centralize information, and so I’m trying to stay focused, but it’s so easy to get distracted by each individual’s story.

A side project that I’ve become interested in involves the water station project put in place by Sister Pam. If you’ve been following our blog, you’ve probably read about the strenuous task of building and maintaining the water stations throughout Brooks County that are used as potential humanitarian aid. I asked Sister Pam if I could start analyzing her logbooks of how many jugs of water are being taken, when they are being taken, and from which areas to see if there are any patterns. I know that this entails a ton of assumptions (one being that a missing water jug is only assumed that it’s being taken by someone in need, and there are tons of other assumptions), but in my spare time I’m working on creating ‘heat maps’ that can be used to visualize this data.  It’ll take some time before we’ll know if it means anything, but I’m enjoying working with some cool data.

A small heat map over the area of Falfurrias depicting water stations and some data showing some red hot spots
A quick heat map generated (with only a few water stations and a few months of data) as an example of what we’re hoping to create

There’s no telling what the rest of the week will look like. Every day involves new volunteers, impromptu meetings, and news to adapt to. We have a lot of events coming up in the next few months that I’ll make sure to keep everyone updated on. If anyone has any specific questions on the internship or what we’re up to at the South Texas Human Rights Center, feel free to email me at sthrc.ryan@gmail.com  and I’d be more than happy to chat!

Ryan

What was different about this year?

Human Rights, Migrant Death, Reflections

If I had to pick one thing that set this year apart from the others, it was our interaction with the living, breathing, human side of the story.

I started reading a book before the trip called Fresh Fruit, Broken Bodies: Migrant Farmworkers in the United States, written by Seth Holmes. At one point in the book, the author writes:

“I have been asked to invite [migrants] to speak to other gabachos—and have been shocked how often conferences on migration include no migrants, even though they are presumably experts on the topic.”

I think this was a lingering feeling that I couldn’t really get past while being a part of this trip the years before this one. A disconnect existed, despite whether I felt it at the time or not. Before this year, I had never met a migrant. I had never seen REAL emotion from a face-to-face interaction; I had only seen it in pictures. I had never heard a migration story directly from someone who experienced it; I had only heard it secondhand from news reports, textbooks, law enforcement, etc.

This year, I met migrants. I saw real emotion, heard real stories, and experienced a different kind of emotion than I had felt the past two years. I read the missing persons reports and the tragic stories from loved ones searching for answers, and for the first time, I honestly felt scared.

I’ve been revisiting a few articles since coming back from the trip, trying to make connections between the past and the present. I found an article that was written by Robin Reineke of the Colibri Center for Human Rights that raises concerns about how media outlets describe the humanitarian crisis (read the article here). While most of the article explores the political and historical roots of the crisis, the one part that really struck me was her discussion on the dehumanization of migrants through language. After rereading her article with the context of this year’s experiences, a major point really clicked for me: what is happening on the border is a crisis on so many levels, and it is affecting so many human beings. Of course I’ve always known this and have referred to it as a ‘humanitarian crisis’, but this year I think I really felt what each of those two words are referring to. This is extremely human, and it is a crisis for so, so many people.

When I first posted about this year’s trip, I talked about searching for new perspectives that could enhance my ability to assist however possible. That search didn’t take long; a new perspective revealed itself every day. And I quickly understood that those perspectives will keep popping up as long as I recognize each conversation and interaction as a different, and equally informative, perspective.

I will continue to post as I begin my internship at the South Texas Human Rights Center. As always, I am extremely excited for the opportunities ahead and for the progress that will be made.

Ryan

 

End of the Road

Human Rights, Migrant Death, Reflections

Our time in Texas has come to an end.  Two weeks came and went as if I blinked.  These trips to Texas always feel surreal – like a fleeting dream.  It is impossible for me to explain even a fraction of what the experience was like.  Every moment of the day is filled from morning to night with such things that leave you physically and mentally exhausted.  It also forces you to wrestle with every human emotion, such as joy, fear, guilt, loss, and helplessness.  As hard as it was to face, I know we all  gained great strength from the difficulty of our task.

I am not an eloquent man.  Try as I might, I cannot muster up the words to express how much this project means to me.  To remedy this, I will shamelessly use the words of William Shakespeare from the Tempest.

Prospero:

Our Actors
Our Actors

 “Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and  Are melted into air, into thin air:

Landscape image of Texas with a small body of water and trees
The cloud-capped State of Texas

 And like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp’d tow’rs, the gorgeous palaces,

Image of the Alamo
The solemn temples, the great globe itself

 The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,

And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on; and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.”

Image of a grave marker of unidentified remains
What I see when asked, “Why do you do this work?”

As I said last year, it isn’t over.  It can’t be – there is still so much work that needs to be done.  There are still people dying without a name.  There are still families without a place to grieve.  Everyday the hard working people of Texas are faced with this humanitarian crisis.  So many of them work tirelessly to ameliorate the problem in any way that they can.  I feel greatly honored just to have done my small part, and privileged to have done it by their side.

Justin