I hear you knocking, but you can't come in

"Nothing tastes sweeter than the of your labor

Crops grown and cared for by your own hands
A harvest of hope for the farmer and the family she loves.

"But sometimes the harvest is bittersweet
Forcing families to migrate, to move beyond their own borders.

"It is not a new land they seek.
Who wants to be an allien or an unwelcome intruder? 
No, they seek only to make a life and a living rooted in justice."

-- Catholic Relief Services

In our country,  we like to talk about choices. We insist on our "right" to make choices for ourselves, we use the concept of "choice" to condemn people whose circumstances make us uncomfortable. We teach our children to make choices -- ideally, to make choices based on what is right and not wrong, but too often based on what will benefit themselves rather than the good of the community, and rarely, I fear, based on what is good for others who do not have the kind of choices we have. 

The very fact that we have such choices in the first place is a gift we rarely recognize as such in this winner-take-all, I've-got-mine-so-screw-you society we've created. 

We are, however, correct in recognizing the importance of choice itself. From the beginning, when God created Adam and Eve, he gave them free will -- the ability to make choices between good and evil, and guess what? It didn't take long for our first Earthly mother and father to make the wrong choice by disobeying their heavenly Father. We are, in that sense, following in the footsteps of our forebears.

Throughout Scripture, from Genesis to Exodus to the New Testament and Acts of the Apostles, we have received a consistent message: Welcome the stranger, show hospitality to all, and shake off the dust of anyone who does not extend that same welcome to you. 

Do you remember the first day at a new school or on a new job? How did you feel? Awkward? Withdrawn, trying to get a sense of whether you would be welcome, become part of the group? How did you react to a new person, once you were safely embraced by your peers? Did you seek to protect your own turf by being critical, standoffish or unpleasant, or did you go out of your way to make this new colleague or classmate welcome?

I recall some years ago when I heard a Scripture passage during Mass about strangers. I wrote a short column afterward, and I mentioned in it that if we all could only see Christ in every face we encounter, this would be a very different world. 

Little did I realize HOW different my own attitude was until I got a response from a reader that shocked me. The letter indicated that if we saw Jesus in one another, there would be rape and pillage everywhere, it would be a frightening and vicious world indeed. 

I scratched my head for weeks afterward (figuratively speaking), wondering what that person was talking about. All I could figure was that the reader thought that if we treated others gently, with respect and dignity, that we would become easy prey for those who would take advantage of us.

Perhaps that is the problem, at least in part. We are so suspicious of each other, so afraid that someone will get something they are not entitled to, perhaps that someone else will benefit from the fruits of our labors, that we cease to be human, in a sense. We want to decide who is "worthy" of our help, and make sure "those people" are properly grateful.

Even more years ago, I heard a talk radio show host talk about what "they" ought to do about welfare abuse. "Everyone who comes into a store and uses food stamps should have to go through a separate register, just for food stamp recipients, and then, before they leave, they should have to shake hands with at least one or more of us who use our own money to buy food, and thank us for providing for them." 

That was probably the last time I ever listened to talk radio. I was horrified. 

I was once one of "those people," because while I was getting the education I wrote about last week, I couldn't work, so I was using food stamps to survive. It wasn't a lifestyle for me, and I was very self-conscious about it, but I had no real choice. It helped me through that rough patch and got me back on the road to self-sufficiency, such as that is. 

We've all been that stranger, the unwelcome foreigner, the alien at some point in our lives. Maybe not to the degree that those we refer to as "undocumented," "illegal" or "migrant worker" suffer, but if you've ever felt like a fish out of water, think about how "those people" feel when they come here to escape violence, starvation or death threats, They are truly caught between a rock and a hard place: If they return to where they came from, they face continued starvation and possible death, either from deprivation or at the hands of their country's own police. If they remain here, the live in the shadows of mainstream society, never quite able to break into what America promises. 

Those are some things to think about when you encounter people who speak a  foreign language in our stories and malls. Instead of bristling, try a friendly smile or offer of assistance if the need seems obvious. They are us; we are them, but for the external circumstances into which we are born.

How has the economy affected the choices for my family?

Oh, where to begin? We've been poor during times of prosperity (which is difficult) and now we are kind of doing OK during a lengthy period when people are really suffering. It affected our lifestyle, limited our experiences, but always, always, the fact that we live in the United States (or perhaps just in a First World country) has given us an advantage over Third World denizens. We've managed to provide for the needs -- if not every want or desire -- of our children as they grew up, and we've been able to help them some as they struggle through young adulthood in a decidedly more difficult timer. 

Mostly right now, the economy has meant we work harder for longer hours at a time in our lives when we should be better positioned to begin winding down toward eventual retirement. My husband works seven days a week and is constantly on call. He works physically harder at age 64 than he did at 34. He comes home exhausted most nights, We don't really have much of a life together beyond sitting in front of the TV together a few evenings a week. As a result of his schedule and the nature of my job, I keep busy, partly to avoid the vegetating in front of the TV lifestyle as much as possible. He has not had a vacation of even a partial week in many years. We do not travel together anymore. He is too tired and burned out to get much done around the house, so many projects sit unfinished, languishing for years. All this just so we can pay the bills. 

Have I been forced to move in order to make a fair wage?

Thankfully, no, we have not been forced to move to make a fair wage. We are probably not making a fair wage by U.S. standards, but by world standards we are doing OK. We could both make more money if we left the Shore, most likely, but this is our home and we choose to stay. We are grateful to have that choice.

How can she survive when the crops do not bring a living wage in a land she calls home? 

Clearly she lacks the gift of choice that we still have in the U.S.A. She must do what she can, including leaving home, to survive and support her family if necessary. It is unconscionable that she must also endure abuse at the hands of wealthy, well-off Americans when she comes to offer her services in exchange for a living wage to send home to her family, or to support her family here in a foreign land. Surely we can do better,

How can I become more aware of economic immigration?

The only way to become more intimately aware is to get involved hands-on with immigrants. I am all too aware from a distance. I see these "others" in local Walmart stores, and sometimes at restaurants or the mall. I see them in church occasionally, especially at Easter during the Triduum when the entire parish celebrates as one. But there is relatively little mixing of "them" and "us" otherwise, and that's not benefiting any of us, really. What to do about it? That's the real question, something to think about. It can be as simple as smiling and trying to be welcoming in the brief encountersI experience, or it could be in the form of trying to convince others, perhaps in my parish, to do less separating (as in having a special Mass that's bi-lingual or all in Spanish) and more uniting (helping them learn and understand English, inviting them to be part of all the things the rest of us do as a parish?). It can be in the form of giving homeless or marginalized people back some human dignity by talking with them just as a matter of course, when opportunity arises. It's tricky, must avoid being condescending or expecting too much gratitude in return We must give with no expectations of anything in return, and we must remain humble in all that we do.