Villardes, mihuel A. Garcia. “Familias de inmigrantes ...



FRONTERA BORDER Written, Developed, and Created By Flagstaff Arts and Leadership Academy’s 2013-14/2014-15 Advanced Creative Writingand2014-15 Advanced Acting Mike Levin, InstructorThe ensemble gathers on stage. Each performer introduces him/herself as their character. (My name is …, I’m …, Me llamo …, or simply stating his/her name. The last person says: “This is The World of the Border.” Another says: “El Mundo de la Frontera.”).MOVEMENT ONE: LOGOS: COMPLEXITY, FUTILITY, HUMANITY1.1 Give each of these a title that captures the poetry of the section.Project BP Trailer on scrim?Tú eres mi otro yo.You are my other me.Si te hago da?o a ti,If I do harm to you,Me hago da?o a mi mismo.I do harm to myself.Si te amo y respeto,If I love and respect you,Me amo y respeto yo.I love and respect myself.1.2Projections on the scrim – information on wallPlus movement piece behind action?Walk for shadows? Tableaus change with words.Or simple:Possible Voice-over? Streamline.Possibly dropping information as we go along the play every time we move the scrim or end an act…V.O.Representative Brickenden, you have the floor. BRICKENDENRecently, I visited Arizona, and when I was there I met with some of my colleagues at the United States-Mexico border. While I was there, I went down there and I saw the reality of the situation and I realized the solution to this whole debacle, our entire immigration problem is extremely simple. Mr. Speaker, the solution to this is one almost as old as time itself: that is, we need, and what I propose to you now, is to build a wall; and on my plane ride back I sketched one out myself, which I want to show you all today. Now here I have a model that was created so I can … I can illustrate how one such wall could be built. So here you can see this is the desert floor, oh, and this would not work for every mile of it but it would work for, I would estimate, about BRICKENDEN (Continued)63-72% of the entire border, leaving the harshest parts of the desert open; surely these sections would act as a deterrent to anyone thinking of crossing into them. Any way, we would start by digging, about a five-foot trench; keep the whole thing from tipping over. We could then pour a notch which would … enable us to pop these pre-cast panels in. Just pop ‘um in like this. This of course would be flush with the desert floor, so basically, doing it this way, any construction company, Halliburton or whomever, could easily build a mile a day, you're just taking a crane and dropping the wall in. This also means we could always open part of this up to let, say livestock, run through here. Now, Mr. Speaker, we could also take it down the same way. If say, Mexico got their laws and such working again, we simply take a crane and pull them out. Very simple. Now, lastly, I think we need to do one more thing and that is just put a little wire on top of here. Just to discourage anyone who might want to climb this fence or put a ladder up to it. We could also electrify that wire; not with a current that would kill someone but just with one that may simply discourage someone who might want to fool about with it from either side, we do this with cattle all the time.As Brickenden speaks, this is projected onto the scrim. Some of it is spoken by the actors. Some is spoken while it is being projected.ACTORThe U.S.-Mexico border, 1952 miles. ACTORThe border became the border that we know because of three events: 1964 … ACTOR… the end of the Bracero Program that allowed Mexicans to work in the U.S. 1971...ACTOR… Nixon declares the “War on Drugs.” 1994 …The North American Free Trade Agreement. And September 11, 2001 … ACTOR… the worldwide security shift. ACTOROne billion dollars. Think about what you could buy for a billion. A billion. DHS spent five years and a billion dollars to build this invisible electronic border fence that never worked. The fence is the epitome of government waste and fiscal mismanagement. ACTORThe true buffer between home and hope isn’t the wall. No, it’s the Sonoran desert, the wasteland that threatens one with heat strokeACTORHypothermia,ACTORlos coyotes,ACTORbandits,ACTORborder patrol. ACTORSince 1998, over 6000 migrant deaths occurred along the U.S.-Mexico Border. ACTORThere have been more agents killed in the BPA line of duty than any other federal law enforcement agency in the United States: 120. The wilderness is vast and the people on patrol become targets. The men and women BPA works with are some of the strongest people working for our country. Mentally and physically, they experience things that the public has no idea about. It’s a tragedy that they are constantly working on. They constantly adapt and change.ACTORMost of these people cross to find work. People say that the Mexican economy is struggling, but really, there is no economy. The cartels run everything. The government, and every industry is corrupt. Anyone who does not want to be a part of that violence has to find real work in the United States. The problem is that both choices are illegal. Either way, you are the enemy of the cartel or the enemy of the border patrol. ACTORMillions of pounds of marijuana alone are detected at the border every year. This does not account for the millions of pounds of illicit substances that go undetected. We are battling a billion dollar industry with more resources than a small government. The 700 miles of border fence only contain a fraction of illegal immigration and smuggling. BPA knows a maximum of ten percent of marijuana being smuggled into the U.S. is actually intercepted. ACTORIs the fence doing its job? What is its job? Well, it’s not to stop people. It is meant to slow them down. So in San Diego, where response time can be less than two minutes, yes. In the places with washed out roads or insufficient agents, what’s the point? ACTORIt’s theatre. The fence. It’s photo ops for the media. So John McCain or DHS can get their photos taken in front of it to assure everyone we’re secure. You go just a few miles out of Nogales, and the pedestrian fence abruptly stops and there’s this older fencing that anyone can just crawl under or over.ACTORIt’s all a wall. Fortification, apprehension, detention, prosecution and deportation. Money. Politics. If you have the ability to get here, then we have work for you. But if you get caught, there’s a massive system put in place where you go to trial and get thrown in a for-profit prison. So who wins? It’s one big futile wall.1.3JOEL IVIEI had been listening to radio communications that night. There was a tripped ground sensor in this remote part of Mule Mountains where there’s a lot of human and drug smuggling. It was still dark, early in the morning. He was on his own. And as two people approached he opened fire and they shot back. It was fast. DHS says it was friendly fire, that he fired on two agents coming from the other side of the mountain. (Pause.) Nicholas was the baby of the family. When Nick was 19, he served a two-year mission in Mexico City for the Mormon Church. He learned Spanish before he went, got much better when he was there and developed a great love for the Mexican people. He told me about this time when he encountered a pregnant woman who had been traveling with a small group in the desert. She lost her shoes. Her feet were cut up real bad and she just had them wrapped in rags, and she was in a pretty remote area and couldn't make it any farther, and he carried that woman a mile and a half to where she could receive the proper help that she needed. He really did love the people that he worked with. He read a story about a princess every night after work to his daughters, Raigan and Presley. He used to tell his girls to “cowboy up.” All the time. “Cowboy up.” (Pause.) My brother was real dedicated. He joined the border patrol to serve his nation. He loved it. Lived a life of charity. He was a hero.1.4Movement piece happens behind this text.BALMy name is Bal. I entered the United States on a work visa in 1988. I was working as a crewman for a shipping company. I was offered a construction job with a monthly salary that would take me a year to make in Guatamala.PEDROMy name is Pedro. I have two children. I made about $2.00 a day doing various jobs. It was hard. The hardest. We would only eat corn tortillas and salt. YANETHMy name is Yaneth. I have three children. My husband and I both have education but in El Salvador, our combined salaries didn’t pay for more than one meal a day. SANDRAMy name is Sandra. When I came to the United States, I was six. In Mexico, I stood on corners to sell oranges. He was a drunkard and abused my mother. So she brought me here. PEDROWe took out a loan, $12,000, to cover the cost for the coyote. When we crossed into Arizona, we were spotted and everyone ran in different directions but I told mi familia, whatever happens we stay together. We did and hopped on a slow-moving freight train. We got to Phoenix several days later.YANETHWhen we arrived in San Francisco, my uncle – a U.S. citizen – started the process for us to become legal. BALI have lived here for over twenty years and paid my taxes. I am desperate to become legal.YANETHMy husband applied for a tourist visa but because we had no assets he was turned down. So we came illegally. I work for a cleaning team in an apartment complex and send money back to my children. PEDROThen went by van to Chicago where my sisters and cousins live. We stayed with them and they got us fake Social Security cards. We work hard paying into Social Security, a system we will never benefit from. SANDRAEven though I excelled in high school, without a Social Security number, I couldn’t pay for financial aid and there was no way to pay for college.VOICESI am in legal limbo.I am from Morales, Mexico.I am in the shadows. I am from Guatamala.I am from El Salvador.Culpable.I feel like I’m in glory here.I live among you.1.5ACTORThis is the wall. The wall you encounter when you talk about immigration. ACTOROur wall: the wall between you and me. Our hearts.Our minds.The limitations of our humanness that can manifest in violence.ACTORI speak Spanish. I speak English. The wall of a language that you cannot understand. ACTORRacism: hatred or intolerance or ignorance of another race or races ACTORMestizo, Chicano, Latino, Hispanic,?Mexican, Salvadoran?, CaucasianMy. Race. Your race.ACTORThe wall between Democrats and Republicans, politics and you and me. ACTORThe Great Wall of Money.ACTORMarijuana, cocaine, heroin. ACTORThe Great Wall of Justice. ACTOR… and death. ACTORThe wall you hit when you create a work of art about the Border. You keep saying no, it’s too big, I can’t. I don’t know the people, I can’t. Everyone so different than me. They’re too similar to me, I can’t. ACTORAnd you keep saying every time you hit those walls: I am a human being, from the state of Arizona in which people on both sides of the border in this land I inhabit are dying. That human lives are being commoditized. I got lucky enough to be born into the United States but I choose not to be blind. ACTORThis is a beginning: this wall.1.6VALENCIAFirst: Familismo. My grandmother died in December ten years ago. We have gathered at her home every year since. Since then, we practice cabo de ano: a ceremony performed on the anniversary of her death. In the evening, there is mass. We pray, we sing. God is with us. There is great sadness. In the daytime, we celebrate at her home. A party with many people, it is hard to count. For me, the best part is cooking in her kitchen. All the men arrive at dawn to kill the pig, a huge pig, that has been fed all year for this purpose. The pig is cooked as carnitas and chicharrones and stew. After that, all the women and some of the men come together to make the mina dish for dinner: Tamales. Everyone works together for the “Tamalada,” and you hear stories about your ancestors and funny stories and scary ones too. Cooking the filling, preparing the corn masa dough, assembling the tamales. They taste so delicious because they are made with stories of la familia. Then we march to la frontera and hand them to our family in the United States of America.1.7Young man stands alone in front of the audience, clutching a framed picture and a rosary to his chest. DIEGOMy brother, Jose Antonio Elena Roderiguez, was shot ten times and killed as he walked along a street adjacent to the border in Nogales, Mexico. It was late. October 10th, 2012. 11:30. I was finishing up at the convenience store, where I worked for months. He was coming to see me at work, and help me finish up for the night. That was something that Jose did often. He was a real good kid, he liked to help. He was smart too. He read a lot, did his work at school. His death happened by the corner of Internacional and Ingenieros. The bullet holes are still there. No one will say what happened. There’s a video of everything that the U.S. Government won’t release. They won’t tell us the names of the men who shot Jose. One story is that Border Patrol say they were getting assaulted by rocks. They may or may not have warned the rock throwers before they opened fire. One rock allegedly hit a patrol dog. Do I think Jose was throwing rocks at Border Patrol Agents? There’s no way. You know how you know your family? The other story says agents were trying to catch a couple of drug-running suspects and they opened fire after rocks started flying over the fence. Do you know how frustrating that is? To not know? All I know is that the unnamed border patrol agents first shot him twice in the head, and then eight more times in the back, as he lay on the ground. They were brave enough to shoot him. They should be brave enough to admit what they did. Our family wants justice, you know? 1.8ACTOR (on phone)How many Mexicans have been killed by Border Patrol Agents in the last five years? BP (on phone)There have been ten deaths as a result of use of force since January 2010. ACTORHow many of these deaths occurred in Mexico?BPSix.ACTORWhat follow-up actions, if any, has CBP taken based on these incidents?BPCustoms and Border Patrol is committed to ensuring that the use of force by our agents and officers, who put their lives on the line every day, is appropriate and consistent with applicable laws, agency standards and procedures. We have followed the recommendations of third-party investigators, as well as conducted our own internal reviews. CBP has made enhancements, many of which are already in effect, to its use of force program and practices, including our policies, training and review processes. As implementation of these enhancements continues, we will continue to evaluate the use of force program and practices to ensure the safety of our law enforcement personnel and the public with whom we interact. ACTORWhat is the CBP policy on the use of lethal force? BPOur law enforcement personnel are trained to use deadly force in circumstances that pose a threat to their lives or serious bodily injury, the lives of their fellow law enforcement partners and innocent third parties.MEDICAL EXAMINERDirect cause of death: Head injury caused by projectile fire with gunfire. Based on what was observed at necropsy, it is stated that most of the injuries are from bottom to top from right to left and back to front. ELENAIt was my child. Our family is broken.1.9PETEI know that the Mexicans coming across the border are people and I know they’re desperate. I feel for them, I really do. I understand that Mexico isn’t a safe place to live anymore but at the same time I think the U.S. can’t become responsible for these people. Because even though they’re looking for a better life they bring the very problems they’re running from into our country. Poverty, crime, drug use, they’ll all increase exponentially if we let Mexicans into America. I don’t mean to say that it’s their fault but that’s just how it is. We don’t have the resources right now to deal with this. We already have high unemployment and crime rates. We need to take care of our own problems before we can even think about dealing with Mexico’s. I don’t think the fence is the answer either because we’ve already spent billions of dollars on it and it’s not working. We might as well take the money and burn it forl. That being said I don’t know what would work better. We just can’t keep pouring money into a wall that might as well be made of paper. Now we’re paying for the fence and the Mexicans that make it in to America. That’s just ridiculous and we can not afford it. Now I’m no expert and I don’t pretend to be, but even I know we have to change something. What we do now, the fence, just doesn’t work.RICKYWith the addition of these two bodies, that makes 133. John Doe. Jane Doe. Migrants are about half of all my cases. Each one costs the county about $2000: body storage, autopsy, sheriff photographer, coroner, burial. My job is really twofold: to figure out the cause of death and to identify the body. Even when the cause of death might seem apparent, I have to give a through examination. My job is to speak for the dead. The problem is the coyotes tell them to get rid if all their ID. It’s something like becoming an investigator. Sometimes, it’s a slip of paper. And others its clothing: a sneaker, maybe or a belt buckle. Fingerprints, sometimes, although Mexico doesn’t have a centralized database. And there’s 133 that haven’t been identified. Funerals for John and Jane Doe’s are quick and dirty. They’re buried as they were found: alone, nameless, far from home. They get a pressed-wood box and their coroner’s case number scrawled on the lid. And lowered into the ground. Buried. Each one gets a concrete loaf that says either John Doe or Jane Doe. There but for the Grace of God.JOHN DOEThere was a cold dampness that never seemed to leave my skin. It had been days since the patrol agent found me. Days of seeing jaws moving, tongues flicking, creating sounds that I couldn’t follow. The rooms were white and sterile of all life. The spirit of the desert and all of its pain was gone, replaced by sharp needles and clear tubes. Big men with black guns stood outside the room. Watching as if I had killed someone, when really it had been them. The ghost of my daughter still lingered in my arms, dipping them in the lead of my guilt. I thought of my wife, Nina, and the new baby. My eyes stung and my head hurt every time I tried to explain to an imaginary Nina, of what had happened to her man… to her child. The hours moved on and over time I embraced the white as a state of limbo. God had not yet decided whether to punish me for my absolute failures or to release me back into the hardships of existence.Transition to Movement TwoACTORWhat comes to mind when you hear the word immigrant or migrant?ACTORSadly I think of Fox News. And racial profiling. I think of Border Patrol and Immigration offices and cold-hearted judges. I think of how weird it is that people create imaginary lines across land and make other people believe those lines are real because they have more gold and guns than anyone else. And that they can force people to confine to their system of reality. ACTORMyself. My great-great grandfather immigrated from Germany to the Netherlands in 1807. My parents immigrated to Norway in 1969. I immigrated to the U.S. of A in 2002. ACTORI see someone who is so unhappy or bad off in their own land or country that they are willing to uproot themselves and potentially never see their family again to try their luck at opportunities in some other country.ACTORThe other. The outsiders. Someone who wants what I got. We’re threatened by immigrants. The Navajo were immigrants to the Hopi lands. That didn’t turn out so well for the Hopi. Still, initially, they welcomed the Navajos. The Europeans were immigrants into North America. The Natives welcomed them, sadly. Do we fear immigrants because we know what our immigrant ancestors did to the people who were here? ACTORAn immigrant that is illegally in a country not of their birth and not willing to become legal is STEALING from those who are either citizens or legal “immigrants.” ACTORForeigners who don’t speak like Americans.ACTORA nation of immigrants who don’t like newer immigrants. ACTORSSomeone who is hard working, determined, speaks more than one language, and eager to find a welcoming home for their family. MOVEMENT TWO: PATHOS: INFORMATION, FUTILITY, CONFLICT2.1CLIFFORDMy name is Clifford Alan Perkins. I was put in charge of building the United States Border Patrol. I arrived in El Paso in 1908. Nobody seemed interested in hiring an inexperienced, nineteen year old semi-invalid. See I moved there because I suffered from tuberculosis. I got some menial jobs but the monotony was killing me. So I started mouthing off to one of my coworkers at the post office and she mentioned something about this, uh, Immigration Service. I didn’t even know what immigration was. So she explained two things: first, immigration had to do with the exclusion, deportation and expulsion of aliens’. Right? Any alien entering the United States in violation of any law. Second thing she says to me was that the starting salary was twice that of what we were making at the Post Office. I signed up. I moved up there fast. In 1924 they asked me to build the police force along the U.S.-Mexico border. It was awful, I’ll tell you. Keeping men was hard. By and large we weren’t hiring law enforcement officers; we had working-class men. You give them a little power over these landholders along the border and they take it all the way. The men I hired were too quick with a gun, or drank too much, too often or both. They’d become corrupt because the men around them were corrupt, or get real violent with the Mexicans or deport them without question. There was very little organization, resources, no real strategy of enforcement. No formal training. No substantial direction. There were three stations – Los Angeles, El Paso, and San Antonio - along 2000 miles, so the men were so isolated there was no way to keep an eye on them or communicate adequately. We also had to deal with the locals and the Texas Rangers who didn’t take to us. We were doing the best we could making it up as we went along. I recall a couple of agents who caught this Mexican under suspicious circumstances and had bound him, dragged him to the water, and just kept on dunking him until he admitted being a smuggler. It was real raw in those early days. You need to keep in mind that this is backbone upon which this organization is built.2.2“Coming Round the Mountain.”Three women are sitting in a semi-circle. They are all looking down, their hands are folded. Women tell their stories in a scattered fashion i.e. WOMAN 1 stands, tells the first part of her story, WOMAN 2 stands, WOMAN 1, WOMAN 3, etc. WOMAN 1I left my children with my Mother. And then I left with my sister. It was cold. The coyote told us we had to keep moving if we didn’t want to freeze. It was the first night and I was so tired already. We had been walking for two days when my sister began to feel shortness of breath, but the coyote didn’t let us stop. My sister and I fell behind. WOMAN 2This was my third time crossing in seven months. The first time, my husband made it to California, but I was captured and sent back to Nogales. I have tried to get to California to be with him, but it is hard. I was crossing in the summer. I was in a group of twelve. Nine of us were women. We were resting in a gully when Border Patrol came. Four were able to escape, including all the men. The seven women and I were stripped down to our underwear while the Border Patrol rested in the shade. WOMAN 1It was cold, but we shared our sweatshirts and rested under a tree. I heard the dogs before she did. My sister was weak, and couldn’t walk. I tried to carry her away from the sounds of dogs, but I was weak too, and she was heavy. (pause.) I hid her under a bush and ran away. But the men saw me, and were faster. When they asked me if I was travelling with anyone, I said I was alone. That was a month ago. I don’t know what happened to my sister.WOMAN 3(She is crying silently, has to take pauses every other sentence to catch her breath.) Both my children are in Arizona. I was caught because I couldn’t walk anymore, but my children were being carried and I told them to leave me. They were crying and pleading and I fainted. When I woke up I was alone. I tried again two weeks later and was caught again, with seven other people. The Border Patrol were cruel. They spit on the men and called the women names. They searched under our underwear.WOMAN 2They felt us, making sure we had no weapons, but couldn’t they see we didn’t? We had nothing. One man kept stroking a woman’s hair. She stayed behind with him while the rest of us were loaded into the back of a truck. They didn’t give us back our clothes until we were in the cell. WOMAN 3The men hit us when we tried to protect our bodies with our arms. And then they hit us again. And then again. I know we are breaking their laws, but I don’t understand why they treat us this way. WOMAN 1My body is broken. My hands never stop shaking now. My children are happy I am home, but I’m not. I’m still in the desert, fighting. I will try again and again and each time I fail, (woman slowly stands), I will stand strong on my broken feet and fight with my broken hands and my broken mouth will scream, I am not afraid, and even though my heart is broken, my broken eyes will not cry. WOMAN 3 stands, WOMAN 2 remains sitting, yet is looking straight ahead. She slowly looks upwards as WOMAN 3 speaks, her hands becoming fists in her lap. WOMAN 3I have been praying in the dark. I have been pleading. I have wept. I am still trying to cover my body with my arms even though it no longer feels sacred and worth protecting. My body no longer feels worth protecting. Who possesses the right to make a woman feel powerless? The right to make her feel that her broken, tainted body no longer deserves to be protected. I should be able to protect my body with my body. I should not feel lifeless, as if the only thing rattling around inside me are broken, dirty bones. I should not have to fear being defiled by men with bigger bodies than I. I should not have to be warned of them. WOMAN 2 stands. There is a pause before she speaks.WOMAN 2I am simply asking. I ask that you tell our stories. I ask that you be kind. I ask that you see us as undeserving of these cruel acts. If you can do only one thing, please do this. Please do not forget us.WOMAN 1There are trees now, throughout this devastating land. From them are hanging bras, underwear, blooming from the branches. They are so common now, they have a name. Rape trees. The underwear are from the victims of rape, and more often than not, murder, most often by coyotes. To them the trees are proclamations of their victories, declarations of ravaged, conquered bodies. To us, it is the awful sign of the worst kind of abuse. These are the woman who faced more than the agony inflicted by the land, they suffered beyond hope. When we pass by rape trees, I send a prayer. And then I vow to end this torture.2.3Radio broadcast is heard over a silent scene depicting an arrest in the desert/or a journey through the desert. The voices become muffled and morphed as the scene goes on. RADIO VOICE 1But, we didn’t start the fire RADIO VOICE 2Not only did we start the fire, but we are the only ones who can start to put it out. RADIO VOICE 1We are in no place to reach out to others, only to help ourselves. RADIO VOICE 2Let go of control. Stop trying to find control or be controlled. Send every reminisce of any idea of control out into the universe, and the universe becomes everything you want it to be. You find you have a relationship with the universe and everything in it, and you can’t control it just as it can’t control you. You find this, sitting under the stars and possibly loving every one of them, and your heart rate slows. Another heart rate is slowing down and it matches yours, and here you are, in tune with this heart. And RADIO VOICE 2 You choose to ignore the messages it sends to you because the responsibility of its arrhythmia is too heavy for you.RADIO VOICE 1How can we interact with those who refuse or are unable to connect with us? Does “letting go of control” become a limitation itself? How much thought does this all take? RADIO VOICE 2Simplify. RADIO VOICE 1Of course. It’s simple then, just simplify - RADIO VOICE 2Them and us; the innate separation of physical forms has had the tragic consequence of deluding our understanding of survival. Competition versus Compassion. Simple.2.4ISABEL GARCIAI’ll tell you what’s wrong, they’re investigating each other. And the fact that they’re treating it as a investigation, as an assault on a federal officer. The use of force policies with this border patrol is out of control! You don’t find any other police agencies that, as bad as they can be across the country, can do and get away with what their work force does. It’s really amazing. It has been documented the bravado, the meanness, the cruelty, that is exhibited out on the field. and yet when they kill somebody, they say “Oh, I was scared!” We know it is an impossibility, their stories are an impossibility. And look what happened before. they shot at each other and for three days they didn’t listen, they didn’t know it was friendly fire. They shot themselves. We have an agency that is out of control. And this is the result, a grieving mother, a family, a community, that are tired of impunity, we have seen the Chicanos killed along this border with impunity for too long. This is an international incident on top of a homicide. The grotesque, barbaric actions that take place in these lands are hidden. According to one family their son’s arms were almost torn off. We are not hearing of this in the US. They’re investigating each other. That’s not right. I hope we can get a truly independent investigation. Not an investigation by the agents who work with each other. There are conflicts of interest here that have to be acknowledged. Because I can see the result. I know there has to be a video, where is the video? This entire border is video taped. Where is the videotape?Sheriff’s office in Maricopa County Arizona. A woman in uniform sits at the desk when the phone rings. SHERIFFMaricopa County Sheriff’s office. How can I help you? WOMANPlease help. I need water. SHERIFFWhere are you? Can you describe the place you’re at? WOMANI don’t know. There are bushes and small hills of rock. SHERIFFDo you know which way is north? WOMANNo. Please help me. SHERIFFWe will. It’s going to be alright. WOMANI’m going to die.SHERIFFNo you’re not. I’m sending help right now, I’m sending a helicopter to come get you, alright? WOMANMy husband’s name is Miguel, I have two kids- SHERIFFNo ma’am, that is not what I do. I am not going to do that because you are going to survive and everything will be alright. Do you understand? WOMAN (Beat.)Yes. SHERIFFI know you think you can’t make it, but the helicopter is going to come, you’re going to be given water and something to eat. I will ask again, do you understand?WOMANYes. 2.5ELOISAWell, DHS wanted to put the fence on my land and I said absolutely not. This is ancestral land. Three acres. They started calling me at home, at work, in the evenings, on the weekends. Their pressure just kept increasing. I wanted to know why. They had such a complete lack of respect for me; they wanted time to sign all these papers and give up my land on a phone conversation. So on one of the phone calls, I told DHS to bring members from their agencies to come to my house. I sat them at my kitchen table and told them I refuse to sign a waiver giving up my land. They were thinking they could take advantage of people like myself because I don’t have the means to fight the government in court. Six months later, I filed a class-action lawsuit against Chertoff for trying to confiscate my land. And the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers sued me for refusing Border Patrol access to survey my land. And after a year of being in and out of court, they won. They got one-quarter of an acre and now the fence cuts my property in two. To get to the south end of my property I have to go through a gap in the fence that’s 1200 feet away and on my neighbor’s property. When I go, it takes Border Patrol a matter of minutes to approach me and when they do, I say I am Dr. Eloisa G. Tamez, I own this property, and I’m going to be here as long as I want to. I feel like my own country is punishing me. Who do they think we are? We’ve been living here for generations. I don’t have a weapon. I don’t own any weapons. But I do have one thing that I’m going to continue to use – my voice. They can take my land, they can build a wall across it, but they can never take my voice2.6A Caucasian woman of about thirty is trudging through the desert, holding a plastic bag- collecting random items strewn across the desert. She has a small radio hooked up to her belt.RADIO“...Mexican drug lords coming into the U.S…”WOMAN(Picks up a backpack and digs out remaining contents, empty water bottles, a toilet paper roll.) You know, I dread the days when I find a child’s shoe, or a tattered family photo. I pick them up, and I take them back to camp, but I still dread finding them. They serve as a constant reminder of the perils so many migrants face, just trying to make a better life for themselves.She shakes her head, and continues to walk, scanning the ground for trash or “artifacts”. She soon comes across a small pink backpack - mud stained. The RADIO continues in the background, with certain lines emphasized. RADIO“...I’m telling you, Senator Davidson, the only immigrants we’ve got coming up from Mexico are criminals and rapists…” WOMAN(Examining the backpack) Sure, there are some drug runners and criminals that pass through this desert - but there are also so many honest men and women and children - just trying to make a better life for themselves and their families. I’d like to take Senator Davidson and all the rest out here and show them something like this (she holds up the backpack) or maybe some of the children’s shoes, and ask them how they think these things got here. Because I’m pretty sure that criminals and rapists don’t carry tiny pink backpacks with Hello Kitty stickers. But 6-year-old girls do. (Comes across a pile of unidentifiable bones, could be the bones of an animal or small child) Bones. These, I would guess are simply the leftovers of an unfortunate animal, died from dehydration. But I’ve come across piles like these, only in some piles you’ll find fingers. even teeth, human teeth. It’s a hideous thing to have to witness. I even once found a hand- all the bones still intact, clutching a rosary. (Long moment of silence.) Skeletons are strange- just to think that they live inside all of us. It’s strange, I mean- we’ve all got the same thing just beneath our skin. The bones of a six-year-old girl, the bones of a drug lord, the bones of a border patrol agent. Inside our ribcage, even more similar yet, a heart and lungs. The deeper we go, the more similarities there are.RADIOThese illegals… WOMANThese people … RADIOThey act as a sort of parasite…WOMANTrying to keep their families alive…RADIO...they come here to take our jobs, to rape our women, to take our livelihoods...WOMAN...for salvation, protection, a new life...And all they ask is that we share… (she says this as she picks up a baby toy such as a rattle from the ground) RADIO“Really what it is it’s a battle between us and them. It’s us and them, Senator…”2.7RICKA small caliber copper jacketed projectile was in Nick’s brain. Border patrol carries 40-caliber semi automatic handguns. 12-gauge shotguns, and AR-15 rifles. They don’t carry small caliber weapons. There were Mexican pesos, water bottles and evidence of drugs that were in transport found near his body, which says that he may have taken someone into custody prior to the shooting and, per protocol, required them to empty their pockets. The female agent says she saw three or four silhouettes speaking in Spanish. So how do we know what happened? Why don’t we know? (Pause.) We want the American people to remember our brother. Nick was a humble man who was always faithful to God, family, and country. Our family has always and continues to support Border Patrol. We are focused on Christy and the kids. We are not angry. We simply want to know what happened that night and if anything is being covered up and why.Blank stage. A woman and a child enter. They run across the stage in slow motion as they run they drop all of their possessions on the stage. Once they reach the middle of the stage they collapse. Then another family runs, then another and another. Each family drops their things as they run and falls in a heap in the middle of the stage. Families enter from both sides. The pile of bodies gets bigger and bigger until it begins to resemble a wall. The Virgin Mary personified as a giant puppet swings back and forth over the wall of bodies. She sings loudly. A family of four runs and the father climbs over the wall of bodies as his family becomes part of it. He makes it to the other side, picks up a broom, and starts sweeping up the possessions. More men try to climb the wall and gunshots are heard. they fall off and lie still. The Virgin Mary puppet is swinging back and forth over all of it, laughing and singing and twitching. The janitor starts to make a nest downstage of all the swept up possessions. A man in a suit sits in it and slowly starves and other men in suits come and bury him in the positions. They pull out rifles as if to do a salute and fire upon the Virgin Mary, who screams, and melts away into shadow. BLACKOUT.2.8(Two mothers at a church, scenes simultaneous, alternating dialogue, Mexican mother holding a rosary, American mother clasping a cross at her neck.) AMERICAN MOTHERThank you Lord for such a bountiful meal and such a happy family.MEXICAN MOTHERGracias Dios, para comida abundante y una familia tan contenta.AMERICAN MOTHERThank you for the many blessings of this home and for keeping Henry safe.MEXICAN MOTHER Gracias para los benediciones de esta casa y, por favor, se guarda mi esposo.AMERICAN MOTHERBeloved God of compassion and justice, we give thanks for your presence within the beauty of creation and for the gift of life to experience that wonder.MEXICAN MOTHERThe following text is translated into Spanish.Lord, we pray that our government will stop the flood of illegal immigrants into this nation. These people are risking their lives to flee?to America?in the hopes of getting to stay. We pray that each of these?people will stop breaking the law and seek to enter this country legally by way of visas and the immigration process.AMERICAN MOTHERWe ask for the strength to bring down walls that divide creation and limit the opportunities for so many of your children while producing riches for just a few. May those who profit from this division be inspired by Zacchaeus to give their possessions to those in need – to follow the path of Jesus.MEXICAN MOTHERFor those who are already here, we pray that efforts will be made to return them home rather than hold them here. We pray that kindness and compassion will be shown to these people, but only as we send them home. Please forgive me if this is a selfish prayer. If it is your will for all this to happen, then please change my heart to reflect your will.AMERICAN MOTHERMay we see your presence in our sisters and brothers who are risking their lives and crossing walls in order to provide for their families.? Awaken our compassion so that we run ahead to embrace them and welcome them into our homes in spite of the grumbling of others that call them “illegal.”MEXICAN MOTHERWe pray that our government will realize the importance of sealing our borders to keep out terrorists and drugs. As a nation, many of us can hardly believe what the government has allowed to happen.AMERICAN MOTHEROpen our hearts so that we sense your presence shining through all of creation and are inspired to seek justice for all of your children. MEXICAN MOTHERPlease forgive?this nation?for our sins of pride, immorality and selfishness. BOTH MOTHERSIn Jesus’ name, Amen.Transition to Movement ThreeACTORWhat defines being an American from the U.S.A.? ACTORSomeone who is born in this country or someone who has completed the legal process to become a U.S. citizen. ACTORThe American Dream. ACTORAll that we are now, not what we were. ACTORIt’s a pejorative term: a narrow-minded, gun-loving, other-hating group of individuals who’d rather not look at issues that are too complex or that might cause us to question our beliefs. ACTORSomeone who lives in America and values its inherent ideals, namely those of individual liberty and rights. ACTORDepends on where you are, which way you are walking, how much property and political currency you control, whether you can set the terms of its definition and how many people you can influence to agree with you as well as how valuable you are perceived to be to such people as determined by the label they stick on you.ACTORThe term American is an aesthetic. It’s an idea. It’s more complicated and interesting if seen from a lens outside of the Anglo-American hegemony. But too much the term is used to sell the brand of this country which is a gross overstatement of our greatness. We’ve never managed to truly live and demonstrate what this brand promises. ACTORSHonestly, I have no idea. ACTORA white-middle aged person with certain exclusionist beliefs.ACTORSomeone that lives in and identifies with the spirit of the United States of America. ACTORA group of general good-hearted but oftentimes narrow-minded immigrants that live mainly between what is known as Canada and South America for long enough to carry an American passport. ACTORA label for the government to classify people with. ACTOROne who believes all human beings deserve and have the right to be free. ACTORQuestioning authority. Standing up for the oppressed. Welcoming and comforting those who are in need. Acceptance. Going big. Dreaming big. Justifying our past wrongs. World police. Interstate highways. Rule of law. Assholes, anarchists, liberals, conservatives, hawks, doves, tea-partiers, environmentalists, NRA, a free press. The First Amendment. John Wayne. John F. Kennedy. ACTORWhat will American mean in twenty years? Will it be a relevant term? Will it need redefined? Will English be in the dominant language? Does that scare you? Or excite you because it is that which makes America America.MOVEMENT THREE: ETHOS: DEATH AND HOPE3.1Scene opens on a clear stage, a lawyer and a line of chained figures stand in the back. Two figures stand in the center. One is a migrant, chained at the hands and feet, the other is a judge. Both face the audience, and stand with their hands clasped. The JUDGE seems very bored throughout the proceeding (sitting on the wall?). The migrant, DANIEL, starts out answering the questions in a very assertive manner, but gradually loses confidence and it becomes clear that he isn't very aware of what is actually being said to him. The pace is fast.JUDGEAre you Daniel Oscar-Hernandez? DANIEL (MIGRANT)Sí. JUDGEAre you a natural citizen of Honduras? DANIELSí. JUDGEAnd did you enter the United States on June 10th, 2013, around the area of Nogales? DANIELSí. JUDGEOn the day of your entry, did you make application to a U.S official?DANIELNo. JUDGEAre you aware of the charges pressed against you and the maximum punishment that you can receive? DANIEL(Hesitates slightly.)Sí...?JUDGE(Ignores the hesitation.)And do you understand the rights that you give up by pleading guilty?DANIELSí...JUDGEAre you pleading guilty on your own free will, without the influence of any outside parties? DANIEL (Glances back to the LAWYER quickly.)Sí. JUDGEAre you guilty, or not guilty, of crossing the U.S.-Mexico Border at an unauthorized point of entry? DANIEL(Hesitates again.)Sí?JUDGEMr. Oscar-Hernandez, this is not a yes or no question. I will ask you again, do you plead guilty, or not guilty, to this crime? DANIEL(Looks nervously around stage. Finally:)Culpable? JUDGEThe court will note that Daniel Oscar-Hernandez pleads guilty. His sentence, as a second-time offender, will be 45 days in the State Prison. Next! This scene is repeated twice more with individual migrants.An officer walks on stage and leads a confused-looking DANIEL away. As they walk off, the line of figures in the back – migrants chained at the hands and feet, shuffle forward, till they form a semi-circle behind the JUDGE. As the JUDGE continues his questions, his voice gradually grows louder, as do the MIGRANTS' voices. JUDGEAre you a human being?ALL MIGRANTSSí. JUDGEAnd are you a natural citizen of the Earth? ALL MIGRANTSSí.JUDGEAnd have you been entering the United States for the past hundred years? ALL MIGRANTSSí. JUDGEOn your date of entry, did you make application to a U.S. Official? ALL MIGRANTSNo. JUDGEAre you aware of the charges pressed against you and the maximum punishment that you can receive? ALL MIGRANTSSí. JUDGEAnd do you understand the rights that you give up by pleading guilty? ALL MIGRANTSSí. JUDGEAre you pleading guilty on your own free will, without the influence of any outside parties? ALL MIGRANTSSí. JUDGEAre you guilty, or not guilty, of crossing the U.S.-Mexico Border at an unauthorized point of entry? (There is a general pause, a breath.) ALL MIGRANTS(Very quietly.) Culpable. JUDGECould you speak louder?ALL MIGRANTS(With slight rise in volume.)Culpable. JUDGE(Showing signs of frustration.)The entire court needs to hear. ONE MIGRANT(Loudly.) Culpable.THREE MIGRANTSCulpable! SIX MIGRANTSCulpable! ALL MIGRANTSCulpable! Culpable! Culpable! The MIGRANTS continue to yell “culpable” and rattle their chains. Occasionally a “sí” or “no” is heard throughout the din. LIGHT FADES.3.2KENI was addicted to the hunt. I was defined by war. I was shaped by war. I saw the mouth of the beast in Afghanistan. Carnage, blood-soaked battlefields. I have a necklace made of fabric, a piece of fabric from each man I killed. I don’t remember every one of them, but I remember clear as day that first one. His eyes. The knowingness of resignation to his life. It was years of rage, barbarism. War made me appreciate life. So after that, I needed to quench my thirst. I needed the excitement of the hunt and, yeah, being hunted. So I signed up for the United States Border Patrol. I don’t care about the regular illegal aliens who cross to feed their families. I want the dope smugglers, violent fugitives, bandits, homicide suspects, burglars, communists. I went from the desert back into the desert and it’s perfect for me. When I was in training, I remember I was taking a shit by the river I was squatting there and these three illegals who had just crossed the river walked straight into me. And I’m in the squat position, so I grab my .357 and hike my pants up best I could and parade the Mexicans over to my trainer. And he said, “Boy, you got a hell of a career ahead of you.” And I have so far. Nine years of service. The shit I see out there. The stories I could tell about what happens at that fence and in that desert over nine years. I love my country. Whatever happens, happens. Whatever happens I keep the oath: KEN (continued)I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I will take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office that I am about to enter. So help me God.3.3KENThey come through my checkpoint station every day, six days a week, for the past fifteen years. I know many of them by name. JAZMINI keep my mother’s advice to myself. Before crossing the border, in a bathroom stall, I sprinkle gelatin on my underwear. 3I wait for the cool of night. Three days in the desert and I’m still too close to Mexico, still so far from God.KENI examine everything. Papers. Lunch boxes. Briefcases. Purses. The one’s I don’t know that come through are suspect. They drive me … I am close to madness. JAZMINWe slip through the fence like mice and wait in a park. Every hour, vans arrive and we pack in, drive towards families, towards jobs. 3My lips are so dry. I flip a peso. Heads: I continue. Tails, I walk toward the highway, thumb my way back to Nogales. KENI’m close to madness. How many of them are trying to smuggle contraband? Prescription or illegal. I inspect everything. Looking. Searching for what I know is there. They are trying to get something through. JAZMINSweat soaks our clothes, salts our skin. We stop on an isolated road. Bandits come down from the trees. The men are face down in the ravine. We women are ordered to undress at gunpoint.3The peso disappears into a nest. I catch a cascabel and strip off its meat. I bury its forked tongue: for one night my name won’t flower in the devil’s throat. KENI’m pushed to the edge. Jorge comes through with his bike again. I inspect it. Check inside the hollow pipes, slice open the tires, but nothing. Jorge remains calm. Doesn’t say a damn thing. JAZMINI unbuckle my belt, lower my jeans. Sweat, gelatin powder had stained my underwear a reddish brown.3The arms of the saguaros strike down the hours but the sun refuses to set.KENI swallow my pride, and swore, if Jorge tells me the truth, I will keep my lips tight. The bastard smiles, and casually replied: I smuggle bikes. JAZMINI was one of ten women. Our mouths are taped. I am spit on. I am slapped. The other women are raped.3I shit behind a cluster of nopales and shout out to the everything that is the desert my favorite joke: No tengo papeles.3.4MIKEWell, I’ve been thinking a lot about rejection lately. And just how the world is out to reject you. Your kids. Your wife. Your government. Sometimes I feel like it’s even the cattle’s out to get me. It’s all there to flip you a middle finger and let you know how small and insignificant you are. Isn’t that how we work? Last night I was playing cribbage with Jill and the boys. Pete and Jack ended up winning and for whatever reason Pete just launched into this celebration where he was getting in my face about winning and how I was a loser. So I smacked him. I just wanted him to know that what he was doing was wrong. But now that I look back at it, I was wrong. I felt like I was getting slapped in the face. I feel ashamed. So I go to God and he accepts me. He loves me. And when I think about the way man interacts with me to the way God loves me, well then everything is good. I’m forgiven. I have faith that for every second, every minute, God is with me.JAZMIN Says this too in Spanish.I go to God and he accepts me. He loves me. And when I just think about the way man interacts with me to the way God loves me, well then everything is good. I’m forgiven. I have faith that for every second, every minute, God is with me.3.5The following actors do no act out what is happening to them. Rather, they use the language and physicality expressively, poetically. Stand on stage, holding hands, but never look at each other.ACTOR 1 (a female)It’s so cold. ACTOR 2 (a male)It’s so hot. ACTOR 1I couldn’t keep up with the group. It was grueling. ACTOR 2We lost the trail. Couldn’t stay together. We lost each other. Then it was just my wife and I. ACTOR 1I am taking my brother to my mother in Los Angeles.ACTOR 2We are going to Flagstaff to work. ACTOR 1Last night it was near freezing. Today it rained. My clothes are soaked. The path is slippery and wet. ACTOR 2It is a vast inferno. Pitiless. Barely any shade. We can’t walk in the daytime. It’s 115 degrees and you can’t risk being seen by border patrol.ACTOR 1Cacti claw at your skin. ACTOR 2Blisters cover your feet.ACTOR 1You have to move very fast. ACTOR 2Over many days. ACTOR 1And I am so cold. ACTOR 2I am so hot.ACTOR 1The coyote left me on a platform la migra uses for landing helicopters. He said they would be by soon. My brother cried and kicked and screamed to stay with me but they carried him away. I told him, “Tu tienes que seguir a donde esta mama.” ACTOR 2I sit down. I tell my wife I can’t go on. She says get up. I can’t. She says I’ll die. I tell her to go on. She wails. I plead with her to stop. That it is okay. I am ready to die. I tell her … ACTOR 1You have to keep going and get to mom. ACTOR 2… in Mexico you have death very close. That’s true for all human beings because it’s a part of life, but in Mexico, death can be found in many things. ACTOR 1I can feel hypothermia setting in. ACTOR 2I am dehydrated. ACTOR 1And I am vomiting and I know that’s bad. ACTOR 2And I am throwing up and I know that I am going to die. ACTOR 1The wet clothing. The cold air.ACTOR 2The sweat. The heat doesn’t stop. There’s no water. There hasn’t been water. ACTOR 1I start shivering to create body heat. ACTOR 2Then heat exhaustion. My muscles cramp. My heartbeat quickens, my breath is faster. I get weak. A headache. I feel as though I am going to faint. My body is steering blood from all my organs to my skin.ACTOR 1My body goes below 95 degrees …ACTOR 2My body is above 105 degrees … ACTOR 1Shivering isn’t working. I’m tired. I lose dexterity. I can’t use my hands. My body gets so cold. I just want to sleep. ACTOR 2Heat stroke sets in. My skin is hot to the touch. My heart works hard, 180 beats per minute. My lungs. ACTOR 1My body is now 90 degrees … I am shaking violently. It’s hard to speak. I can’t walk. ACTOR 2I am confused. I have no idea where I am.ACTOR 1My body is now 88 degrees …. The shivering stops. My muscles are stiff and numb. I don’t know where I am doing. I don’t know what I’m doing. ACTOR 2My body is overwhelmed down to the tiniest cells; tissue perishes. I start convulsing. ACTOR 186 degrees I am breathing slow, my pulse is slow. And then erratic and I panic.ACTOR 2Organs start to fail and life-sustaining chemical reactions collapse. My eyes dry up. Kidneys shut down. Moisture is gone. I look shrunken. ACTOR 1At 82 degrees, my heart fibrillates, breaks into chaotic contractions. ACTOR 2My body’s final throes are frantic. It flails, throwing up sand. And then death.ACTOR 1At 78.8 degrees I lose consciousness and very shortly, at 75 degrees, I am dead. ACTOR 2I am dead. It is one of the most terrible deaths that can happen to a human being. It’s a grisly, terrible, terrible death. ACTOR 1Listen to these words: It doesn’t take much to get in trouble.3.6JOEL’s and ARECELI’s monologues are intertwined.JOELThe Sunday before he died, Nick stood here, in this pulpit where he led his first LDS service. The next day, Nick would go to work, but he wouldn't come home . The last time I saw Nick, he had gotten up early to go to the park with his girls and wife. ... He was as perfect a father as you could be, and that was just how Nick was. In his neighborhood, he was known as the guy who was always playing with his kids. If Nick were here, he'd say, “Guys, I'm taken care of. Just take care of my girls, my wife and my family.” Christy, I know that the love he had for you and for Raigan and Presley will strengthen you in the days ahead. His life has been an example to all of us. He had the light of Christ in his eyes and His image in his countenance. He’s as close to Christ as one can become. Sometimes I have to wonder why Nick was taken at this time. But then I also think Nick was such a great man that he was ready to enter the kingdom of God. We come to this earth to learn to walk by faith, choose rightly and be tested. I declare that Nicholas Ivie passed the test of this mortal existence. We are all better people for having known Nick. Let's keep the tradition going by trying to be a little better each day.Areceli RoderiguezWhen Border Patrol agents shot my son, Jose Antonio Elena Roderiguez, they let the world know that they are out of control. They’ve taken a piece of my heart. It’s where they buried him. No one is going to return my son to me. No one can give me back the hugs I gave him, the kisses, his voice or his smile. I want a response. To get an answer from the US government. To get an answer from the Mexican government. It’s been a year-and-a-half and I want someone to talk to me. To tell me what happened. You cannot assassinate my son and not speak to me. I would like to see justice, that’s what I want to see. What I want to see are the people responsible in front of the court and judge. I want to see justice. I have no other weapon than my voice and I am going to use it until something gets done.And then an Aria. We intermingle names on the scrim with speaking the names. Movement.Jorge Solis-Palma Age: 28 Incident Date Jan. 4, 2010Clint B. Thrasher End of Watch April 25, 2007Victor Santillan de la Cruz Age 38 Incident Date March 31, 2010Luis Aguilar End of Watch January 19, 2008Sergio Adrian Hernandez-Guereca Age 15 Incident Date June 7, 2010Cruz C. McGuire End of Watch May 21, 2009Juan Mendez, Jr Age 18 Incident Date Oct. 5, 2010J.M. Anderson End of Watch Unlisted Day, 1863Ramses Barron Torres? Age 17 Incident Date January 5, 2011Asa Marsh End of Watch, August 3, 1808Amado Rodriguez Age 46 Incident Date April 18, 2011James P. Epling End of Watch December 16, 2003Omar Olivares Age 28 Incident Date Sept. 15, 2011Jeremy M. Wilson End of Watch September 19, 2004Gerardo Rico Lozano Age 20 Incident Date Nov. 3, 2011David N. Webb End of Watch November 3, 2006Byron Sosa Orellana Age 28 Incident Date Dec. 6, 2011Charles F. Collins II End of Watch August 15, 2010Alexander Arthur Martin Age 34 Incident Date March 15, 2012Brian A. Terry End of Watch December 15, 2010Juan Pablo Perez Santillán Age 30 ?Incident Date July-7-2012Eduardo Rojas Jr End of Watch May 12, 2011Hector R. Clark End of Watch May 12, 2011Guillermo Arévalo Pedroza Age 36 Incident Date Sept. 3, 2012Janes R. Dominguez End of Watch July 19, 2012Valerie Munique Tachiquin-Alvarado Age 32 Incident Date Sept. 28, 2012Jeffrey Ramierez End of Watch September 15, 2012José Antonio Elena Rodriguez Age 16 Incident Date Oct. 10, 2012Nicholas J. Ivie End of Watch October 2 2012Margarito Lopez Morelos Age 19 Incident Date Dec. 2, 2012David R. Delaney End of Watch November 2, 2012Unknown Age 51 Incident Date February, 16, 2013Darrell J. Windhaus December 29 2013Miscarriage of Laura Mireles Age 32 Incident Date November -5-2012Alexander I. Giahnni End of Watch May 28, 2014Unknown Age Unknown Incident Date Jan. 30, 2014Unknown Age Unknown Incident Date October 2, 2014Tyler R. Robedo End of Watch Sepetmber 12, 2014Francisco Manuel Cesena Age 40 Incident Date December 24, 20143.8(Vigil – starts with Jose’s mother, she enters holding a rosary and a candle. Jose’s picture is projected on the wall, and the number 1. One by one more people enter w/ candles, more faces are projected as the number increases. Puppets/shadows. People enter with signs: Enough! and Not One More Death. Even when everyone has entered the number continues to increase, showing the number of deaths and people affected that are connected to the border.)ARIAMy name is Aria. Next month I am graduating high school and will go out into the world, so to speak. A large part of our school community looked deeply into the issues surrounding the border. Our charge when we went out was to make both sides human. To humanize the people that are dying. To make statistics real. The hardest thing, and we sort of knew this when we started, is the futility of it all. The futility of the border fence, of the politics of immigration. Nothing is more futile than Operation Streamline. The futility of the walls that we opened this play with: racism, money, violence. I’m a teenager: when you confront the border what can I do that will have meaning, that matters? The futility of performing a play. But then, you come across stories that might have been lost, like Nick’s and Jose’s, and you hope that their stories live on. That they aren’t unrecognized or become lost in the past. That maybe there will be justice. In all of our efforts with this project, many of our lives have changed, we’ve become more human. I can only hope that through everything we’ve endeavored, we put more love into the world. More love to all the people we met along the way and to you and to you and to us and to you. More love.ADDITIONAL SCENESJOHN DOEI waited on the side of the road. Not sure how long. Time had lost most of its meaning during this ... crossing, except that I would be doing this again, no doubt. When they came in their truck, they asked me the usual questions. It was the same man that was questioning me too. He didn’t notice it though. I wonder if they can ever remember faces. When they put me on the bus, I knew that I would be back out there. Today … tomorrow, didn’t matter … Border Patrol agents cannot, of course, be interviewed. We culled their words through the retired and through research. PATROL AGENTIt’s stressful. It’s dangerous. Anything could happen at any given time. Y’know we’re out there oftentimes alone in really isolated areas at 2, 3 in the morning and you got a well-armed Mexican military who are paid off to protect a drug cartel. They’ll shoot up our cars or us, they don’t care. They need to move the drugs and we’re in the way. Rocking, too. Rocking’s become an increasingly steadier occurrence. A bunch of Mexicans are trying to cross illegally into the U.S. and they see a single agent so they take these multiple, large rocks and start chucking them so the agent either shoots or retreats. It all takes a toll. Mentally and Physically. It’s incredibly hard work. JOHN DOEI tried to make sense of it all. The water bottles that came empty, the food that was spoiled. I thought of all the taunting from the desert’s spirits. I thought of my daughter. The most water she had encountered in days were the tears wetting her cheeks. My daughter. My little girl. My child. PATROL AGENTWhen I found them I thought they were both dead. The heat baked into my hair. The dust stung my eyelashes. I had followed the tracks. I found them. One huddled over the other like a heap of death, it smelled too. A man and a child. I was about to call in the unit, but I heard the whimper. The man knew I was there, he didn’t care. I stood. I watched. I watched tears roll off of his face and onto the dead child. A child. Five, maybe, pink tattered dress, dark dirty curls, sun-blistered face. I didn’t call for anyone. I only wanted him to know. (pause) When I returned home that night I held my daughter, Zoe until she fell asleep. My sympathy had worn out. How dare he, and any one of these Mexicans, take that girl into the desert. How dare they. Might as well have killed her himself. Now, I want him to understand.ACTORThey shouldn’t be working here. Second: They should learn our language.We hear “Rosaura Munoz: ID # 595” (Denise Chavez) along with “5 MIN” (Zeitkratzer Electronics featuring Carsten Nicolai). Ensemble engages in sequence of movement that happens behind the poem. And a series of photos. The photomontage is life affirming and heart breaking. RICKYWith the addition of these two bodies, that makes 133. John Doe. Jane Doe. Migrants are about half of all my cases. Each one costs the county about $2000: body storage, autopsy, sheriff photographer, coroner, burial. My job is really twofold: to figure out the cause of death and to identify the body. Even when the cause of death might seem apparent, I have to give a through examination. My job is to speak for the dead. The problem is the coyotes tell them to get rid if all their ID. It’s something like becoming an investigator. Sometimes, it’s a slip of paper. And others its clothing: a sneaker, maybe or a belt buckle. Fingerprints, sometimes, although Mexico doesn’t have a centralized database. And there’s 133 that haven’t been identified. Funerals for John and Jane Doe’s are quick and dirty. They’re buried as they were found: alone, nameless, far from home. They get a pressed-wood box and their coroner’s case number scrawled on the lid. And lowered into the ground. Buried. Each one gets a concrete loaf that says either John Doe or Jane Doe. There but for the Grace of God. NAFTA-- -- actors one by one start to talk about facts and statistics ether pro NAFTA or agent, they start to raise there voices over each other and speaking at the same time JOHN DOEThere was a cold dampness that never seemed to leave my skin. It had been days since the patrol agent found me. Days of seeing jaws moving, tongues flicking, creating sounds that I couldn’t follow. The rooms were white and sterile of all life. The spirit of the desert and all of its pain was gone, replaced by sharp needles and clear tubes. Big men with black guns stood outside the room. Watching as if I had killed someone, when really it had been them. The ghost of my daughter still lingered in my arms, dipping them in the lead of my guilt. I thought of my wife, Nina, and the new baby. My eyes stung and my head hurt every time I tried to explain to an imaginary Nina, of what had happened to her man… to her child. The hours moved on and over time I embraced the white as a state of limbo. God had not yet decided whether to punish me for my absolute failures or to release me back into the hardships of existence.BILLWell, the fence stops about three hundred feet – you know, just a football field - from my ranch. So I had to buy a gun because I had so many of them coming through my property. Out here in the desert, animals got their venom, cacti go their needles, and men got their guns. Yeah, I’m afraid because they’re afraid. One of them storms onto my land and turns out to be dangerous, what then? There are drug-cartel members who are crossing. My wife and children? I’m about this close to a thief to a shooting or a kidnapping. Listen: I got a job to do, cattle to look after, but now I can either wait here or risk it out there, but the government doesn’t give a rat’s ass. Now they want to put up some camera tower or some bullshit. On my property no less. I just got a job to do. You know? Earning a living? My family’s been here generations and this all could turn into a horror story real quick.Movement along with BP phone call: wall on stage, one side has unlocked gate? Mexicans climb over walls, Americans go over/cross through gate, with the two forces acting on it the wall begins to contort. Deconstruction of wall while the politician proposes wall building? Wall turns so that it is horizontal and image(s) are projected/heavy breathing? [historical footage/abstract images/simple images]DAVIDThe United States of America has enough people as it is, we don’t need more unnecessary clutter. Uh, I understand that where these Mexicans live is not adequate, but the United States used to be like that, you know, we built this country on trust and hard work, and to have these people come in, to try and eat the fruits of our labors isn’t right. If they stayed put, maybe they could find some time to make their country better! And, uh, I don’t want to hear nothing about how they may boost our working force, us Americans are doing fine as it is. We don’t need foreigners taking the jobs of Americans, we have a high enough unemployment rate. I am paying for my daughter to be in college, I am spending money every day to ensure that she gets a good education, so she can get a good job and make money for her family. If these Mexicans did the same thing over in Mexico, they wouldn’t need to come over here to find paying work!Plurality is the condition of human action because we are all the same, that is, human, in such a way that nobody is ever the same as anyone else who ever lived, lives, or will live. Why do we do what we do?What are we to become? We need to consciously make our decisions – to not just let our lives happen.Our lives. Human dignity is a crystallization of the elements of the human condition.It must not be compromised.BIBLIOGRAPHY Carcamo, Cindy and Marosi, Richard. “Family of Slain Border Patrol Agent: ‘He Was a Hero.’” Los Angeles Times. 4 October 2012. . Accessed 3 September 2013. “CPB Responds to Fusion’s ‘Shots Across the Border.’” Fusion. 30 October 2013. . Accessed 13 November 2013. Corral, Eduardo C. Slow Lightning. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2012. Dear, Michael. Why Walls Won’t Work: Repairing the U.S.-Mexico Divide. New York: Oxford University Press, 2013. Ellingwood, Ken. Hard Line: Life and Death on the U.S.-Mexico Border. New York: Pantheon Books, 2004. Gibson, Dave. “Facts Do Not Support Official Story in Border Patrol Agent’s Killing.” . 8 November 2012. . Accessed 16 October 2013. Longmire, Sylvia. Border Insecurity. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2014. Luna, Brandon Salvador. Race, Immigration, Law, and the U.S.-Mexico Border: A History of the Border Patrol and the Mexican-Origin Population in the Southwest. . Accessed 26 February 2014. Morgan II, Lee. The Reaper’s Line: Life and Death on the Mexican Border. Tucson, Arizona: Rio Neuvo Publishers, 2006. Ortega, Bob. “Gathering at Border Marks One Year Since Teen’s Death.” Southern Border Communities Coalition. 14 October 2013. . Accessed 5 December 2013. Romboy, Dennis. “Family Holds Memorial for Border Patrol Agent Killed in Action.” . 8 October 2012. . Accessed 16 October 2013. Romboy, Dennis and Romero McKenzie. “Siblings of Slain Border Patrol Agent Speak Out.” . 24 October 2013. . Accessed 2 July 2014. Valdez, Luis. Zoot Suit and Other Plays. Houston: Arte Publico Press, 1992.Villardes, mihuel A. Garcia. “Familias de inmigrantes muertos por agentes de EU crean asociación.” Pulso. 15 June 2014. . Accessed 17 July 2014.Woodhouse, Murphy. “Family of Tonito Demands Justice in March.” Tucson Weekly. 20 October 2012. . Accessed 7 November 2013. ................
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