When Woodie Guthrie wrote the poem that eventually became the song “Deportee (Plane Wreck at Los Gatos”), he was referring to a tragic plane crash where, in addition to the pilot and three crew members whose names were listed in the papers, twenty-eight Mexican nationals (27 men and one woman) who were being flown back to Mexico also died. This was during the time of the Bracero Program, a sort of guest worker program which let Mexican agricultural workers (braceros) come to work in the United States during a labor shortage in the U.S. Then as now, there were many workers who came outside the confines of the Bracero Program, usually at the behest of those who were hiring them who would rather have an undocumented workforce than one they had to pay under contractual terms. The song mentions that, “They’re flying ‘em back to the Mexican border / To pay all their money to wade back again,” in reference to the practice of “drying out the wetbacks” (seriously, that’s what they called it), where immigration authorities would take undocumented workers to the border, have them place a foot back in Mexican soil, and point them to the Border Patrol to pay to sign back up under the Bracero Program and get them back to work. The plane was taking them to a border town so that they could do just that when it crashed, killing everyone on board.

Woodie Guthrie expressed outrage at the fact that newspapers did not report the names of the undocumented Mexican nationals (he gives them symbolic names in the song). Whether this was due to mere callousness or if the papers really and truly could not obtain information about their identities is not a question for which I can find a straight answer. It is clear, however, that many of the attitudes taken toward the Mexican workers in 1948 carry through today in the debate over Mexico-U.S. migration.

“They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves.” The vast majority of undocumented individuals are not criminals, although they sure as heck are treated like it. It’s all too easy to think of “illegal aliens” as amorphous, faceless beings, and that’s exactly why the terminology is problematic. The question of calling people who enter the United States without authorization or overstay their visas “illegal aliens” or “illegal immigrants” or simply “illegals” versus “undocumented immigrants” is not just an issue of semantics or trying to be PC. Undocumented and unauthorized are not perfect terms, but they at least acknowledge that the nature of the imposed status is whether or not they have papers or formal authorization to be in a particular place. The word alien simply means “non-citizen,” but the connotation of the word is dehumanizing because it conjures up images of something downright otherworldly. Illegal alien is a term used by the INS to describe immigrants who have been convicted of felonies; it is not a blanket term for anyone residing in the country without authorization. Illegal immigrant is a relatively mainstream term, unfortunately, but it still conjures up images of criminality when immigration is a civil, not criminal, issue (although the Arizona law has changed that, which is a problem in and of itself). Of course, when “illegal” modifies the word “immigrant,” at least then the main descriptor is immigrant, maintaining some semblance of the personhood of the individual(s) being described. “Illegal” as a noun, by contrast, completely dehumanizes them and implies that the very nature of the person is their “illegality.”

What would happen if we stopped seeing undocumented immigrants – or economic refugees, or unauthorized residents, or whatever you wish to call them – as collectivities and started seeing them first and foremost as human beings? To recognize that their nature is not that of a worker, or an immigrant, or a deportee, but as a person? To remember that every single one of these people, whether they come from Mexico or Guatemala or Laos or China or Haiti or Ghana or Senegal, is a unique person, with their own story, their own set of loved ones, their own individuality?

Maybe it would be easier to give a damn and to treat them with a little bit more respect.

And maybe once we recognize their humanity, and listen to their stories, putting them in global context, we could begin to recognize that the people who are disparagingly called “illegals” aren’t the bad guys in the immigration debate.

Anyone currently living in the United States or who pays any attention to the news coming out of here knows that immigration has come to the fore as a hot-button issue, and one which has been relatively polarizing in U.S. politics as of late. One piece of proposed legislation, though, should not be controversial once you understand the provisions contained therein: the Development, Relief and Education for Alien Minors Act (commonly abbreviated as the DREAM Act).

Over one million young people living in the United States are undocumented (or, as the mainstream media call them, “illegal”) because of the simple fact that their families brought them here – as babies, young children, or young teens – without authorization. These youth live normal lives and are indistinguishable from citizens or legal residents. They often do not know that they are undocumented until they want to undergo normal teenage rites of passage – like getting a driver’s license or applying for college or registering to vote – only to be told by their parents that they are not in the country legally.

Under current laws, the only way these young people can rectify their legal status is to go back to their country of origin – where they will be banned from re-entry to the United States for five to ten years – and then and only then can they even applyto return to the U.S. Many of them do not speak the language of their countries of origin; the United States is the only home they’ve ever known, and all of their friends and social networks are here. Some of them come from countries where they would be persecuted or even killed because of their religious beliefs or sexual orientation. And remember… these youth had absolutely no say in the decision to come to the United States without authorization.

If made into law, the DREAM Act would allow undocumented persons who were brought to the United States before the age of seventeen a chance to legalize their immigration status. This would not, I repeat, NOT be an amnesty, and this is a path to legalization, not citizenship per se.

• Applicants must meet all of the following requirements:
  • They must prove that they arrived in the United States before the age of seventeen and that they have lived here continuously for at least five consecutive years. (This is, by the way, exceedingly difficult to prove when they are not eligible for state IDs or drivers licenses, and this provision alone will weed out a significant proportion of potential applicants.)
  • They must be between the ages of twelve and thirty-five at the time the bill is enacted, and at the time of application must have graduated from a United States high school or obtained a GED.
  • Furthermore, they must qualify under the “good moral character” provision, which bars those convicted of felonies or “crimes of moral turpitude” (including drug-related offenses or shoplifting) or “habitual drunkenness.”
• If the applicant satisfies all of these requirements, they are granted a provisional legal status and are given six years to either:
  • 1. Graduate from a community college,
  • 2. Complete at least two years toward a Bachelors degree, or
  • 3. Serve two years in the United States military.
• During this six-year period, applicants would not be eligible for government grants such as Pell grants. They would, however, be eligible to apply for private scholarships, private loans, and work study. They could obtain driver’s licenses and work permits.
• If the applicant does not complete the required education or military service requirements in the six-year period, or if they commit any of the above-mentioned crimes in the interim period, their conditional status would be repealed and they could be deported.
• If the applicant completes the education or military service requirements in the six-year period, they would be eligible for legal permanent residency (LPR) status.

In short? A young person who is able to prove that they came to the United States as a minor, who graduates from high school (or the equivalent) and goes to college on their own dime or serves in the United States military for two years and does not commit a crime, is able to become a legal permanent resident.

They would still not be citizens, and this law would have no bearing on the legal status of their family members (who, because of current laws, could not be sponsoredby their children anyway). LPRs cannot vote and they are subject to Selective Service, and of course they would still pay taxes (which about 75% of undocumented workers also pay, by the way). They can still be deported if they commit certain crimes. Can I stress again that they will be paying taxes? They can apply for citizenship only after a full five years of permanent residency if they are not convicted of crimes.

The DREAM Act is by no means a perfect piece of legislation or a panacea for the broader problem of an immigration system which everyone seems to agree is “broken.” I would argue that it does not go nearly far enough and that there is still a grave need for comprehensive immigration reform at the federal level. But the provisions of the DREAM Act by itself should not be at all controversial. It provides a path to legalization for young people who had no say in the decision to come to the country “illegally” in the first place.