2/6/20

By Josh Rubin

Our Hands

It is 7 am. I am at the Brownsville-South Padre Airport at the southernmost tip of the US border with Mexico. I came to witness a flight on World Atlantic, leaving this morning for Guatemala. They have moved the plane so that it is mostly shielded from view. But sneaking around I was able to see four buses full of humanity, the intended cargo for this boxcar in the sky.

This is a deportation flight. People are being sent back to the region they fled in fear for their lives. Women. Men. Children. Babies.

As I sit in my rented car, to keep warm, I remember a story I read yesterday that details the numbers of folks who were sent back to Salvador on similar flights, the numbers of them who were murdered after their return. Can we avoid making the connection? We are sending some of these people to their extermination. Back home to die.

Our policy is now one that gets these asylum seekers and refugees off our hands as quickly as possible. But look down at those hands.

Can you see the blood?