wanna make change? here's some advice, from someone who's doing it ✊🪧🏛️

What does action, change, look like? Does that mean getting a law degree to stand up for immigrant families? Yes—and that's exactly what my mother did in the late 2010s.

Know someone who’s hoping to make change? Pass this newsletter onto them, to offer a little bit of inspiration.

All problems have solutions — but all solutions require work. Not magical thinking, not chatter, but actually doing something. You need a plan! You have to learn things, you have to talk to people, you have to go here and there and everywhere to solve the problem. Remember when you were learning simple math as a child? It took a lot of work for your adorable little mind to “get it.” Now? Totally easy — and you continue to build upon that initial work that you did. This is true of any problem and, like any solution, these things take time.

That was my biggest takeaway from what happened last week: we’ve been here before, solutions emerged, but solutions take time, energy, and work, all done in the real world. If we get offline and think of our lives non-digitally, in literal terms, what we start today will evolve and grow and come to pass in a few years. Want to lose weight? That takes weeks, months, years of work. Want a new career? That takes weeks, months, years of work. Want to move to a new city? That takes weeks, months, years of work. Besides social posts and making meals, nothing happens immediately. Anyone who has raised a child or who has a pet, anyone who has written a book or started a company, will tell you that things take time. “A cage holds you, we've all got one we call home,” Meg Remy (aka, U.S. Girls) sang in “Rosebud.” “Who holds the key is what you need to know.” This is to say: nothing is done standing in place.

So where do you begin? When there are problems everywhere, with everything, what do you do? Despite decision fatigue, something’s gotta give. But what? I know someone very well who is an example of what working toward a solution looks like, a story that I’ve been meaning to share for years and years, months and months, as story on mid-life trends. Unfortunately, that story is getting sacked as I finally have a reason to share this story: it’s the story of my mother.

In 2016, she saw the problem in the world, of a xenophobia presidency and things going wrong — and she did something about it. This “solution” completely rerouted her life and, over the course of few years, she is now living within her solution and is making a living being the solution she wanted to see in the world. The abridged version before the long version: my mother came to the United States in the 1960s from Puerto Rico, migrating with her mother and siblings to the New York City area. In 2016, she thought like many that he wasn’t going to do what he said — but once he started breaking up families and deporting people? She couldn’t just watch that happen. Working with what she had access to, she pursued law after having zero experience in the field and only getting her degree years early, once all the kids left the nest in the late 2000s. Now? She works as a lawyer/Accredited Representative at Estrella del Paso, an organization in El Paso that aids asylum seekers and immigrants, where she has assisted undocumented adults and children and even newborns get via legal aid. Did I mention she did this while working full time as a teacher, dealing with frequent surgeries for kidney stones, parenting adult children and grandchildren and pets, going to church, and generally living the life of an active person in their late fifties/early sixties? Well, she did that, while also weathering a pandemic, climate catastrophes, and constitutional crises: she is a great example of the (offline) change that so many aspire to, that so many of us want to be. The difference is that…she did it. She’s the inspiration that I look to when I think about how to help people, my community, which resulted in my volunteering to teach English and immigration classes to undocumented persons on their citizenship journeys for a handful of years.

This is to say: you have the power to do something. Anything is possible! Life is hard, it doesn’t get easier, but it can and does change — but change takes time: that’s the lesson. Hope helps but hope is nothing without action. So, I’m here with my mother to put gas in the engine! I texted her last Wednesday, following the results, asking if she was interested in sharing her story, to walk us through her journey from watching-shit-happen to putting a shovel in the shit to dig others out. Thankfully, she was down and had the time. Here’s to some good old fashion inspiration! All to prevent the very real situation of immigrants from getting lost in digitally fuelled noise. Now is when amazing movements and amazing solutions happen. What will you do?

Read on, as we discuss immigration issues, the Puerto Rican-American experience, how to turn concern into action, the importance of (offline) community work, the Latino view on immigration, and how you can get involved locally. If you’d like to help the organization my mother works for, reply to this post and I can connect you with her. There may even be ways to volunteer too! At the end of the post, I’ve included a few immigration organizations in cities of note and, whether this is your issue or not, let this led you somewhere. Let this be day one of the journey.

KRF: Let’s start with your immigration story and how you “got here.”

MOM: I “immigrated” but there’s a difference: the word is actually “migrated.” I had to learn that myself.

KRF: I was gonna say: technically it's not immigrating because you were already a citizen.

MOM: A naturalized citizen, but I used to use those words interchangeably. Immigrants migrate and immigrate, and some people just migrate because their immigration status is okay. But we migrated because we needed a better life, and we wanted the American Dream. In that respect, immigration and migration are the same. So I migrated to the United States for a better life, as a child, but the experience is very much like an immigrant experience.

KRF: You can be American but not culturally American is the point, hence the racism that Puerto Ricans experience. I see that as an immigrant in Spain, that — despite speaking the same language — those coming from Central and South America aren’t treated the same because of the cultural differences despite sharing the same language. Moving anywhere means more than just switching locations.

MOM: You're living it. When you explain this to someone who isn't living it, it's a little more complex. It's a different word, and I don't have the exact Webster definition of it, but there is a difference. People just assume everything is easy and it's absolutely not. Puerto Ricans go through the same struggles. The fear of getting deported used to be non-existent and, now, I'm like…he could make any changes he wants to the “garbage” island. That means my legal status as a naturalized citizen can change. He can change the law. Now imagine how the people who don't have adjusted immigration status feel. They are freaking out.

KRF: I mean, we’re less than a week after the results and the feelings are already just like they were in 2016. Take me back to eight years ago, when he was elected. It all seemed like a potential reality, that immigrants would be deported — or that he was just talking to talk. What were you thinking? How did this evolve in your mind? So many politicians talk a lot of talk and don't do anything — and he did both of those things. Clearly there was something that changed, not only in culture but in yourself. What happened?

MOM: I didn't vote for him this time or the last time. I really didn't think he was going to do anything, right? It's always talk. So I said, “Oh, he's just blowing smoke. He's from New York. That's what it is.” But when I saw the changes, especially the visible changes? Things changed. Number one: the wall. I had only seen it on TV, and so it wasn’t “real.” Once I went to El Paso [where your brother lives], I saw it and it is such a huge part of the city. You can't ignore it. You know why it's there. You know why it's so fortified and it's not okay. On one side, it’s a fence — but to the people on the other side? It’s night and day —and I didn't get it. I needed more than that to say, “Well, it's gonna be bad.” When I saw the news about the little kids in cages and the separation of parents and children, that there were thousands of them? With no laws in place to protect them? It was reminiscent of what happened to the Japanese, when people were put in encampments. I thought: I know I can't do anything. I was a teacher in a school in Georgia, where immigration was almost non-existent. You had the Mexican restaurant, the people who worked in it — and that was it. I wasn't aware of the underground, of the faceless people who don't exist until you need something. When I heard about the kids, that's what made the big difference: the pictures and the videos of them crying…I felt like the news was only showing certain parts, right? I thought, “Oh my god, what am I going to do? What can I help with?” I prayed, like, “What should I do?” And that's when the idea of going to law school came in. I'm not a smart person —

KRF: Well, that's not true.

MOM: You know, I’m a migrant. I think “There's no way I can do this.” Luckily, with the school I went to, I didn't have to take the LSAT, which would have been a huge hurdle. I had to write an essay within a set time and I wrote from my heart, about these children, and of the possibility of being able to do something for at least one child. And...I got accepted. The irony was I didn't tell you all that I applied, as you know. Then, I was traveling from Chicago to El Paso Thanksgiving weekend and I wasn't allowed on the plane because of my last name. I have a very long last name and they called us to come up because we were on standby and they let my daughter in and they let my husband in — and they said, “No, you’re not with them.” because our names didn’t match which…was systemic racism. I looked, noticing that the other five or six people waiting were all Hispanic women, none of whom spoke English, all in despair. I knew they would let us on eventually, but I wasn't going to fight because the Homeland Security doesn't want you to fight. I told the other women that they're gonna let us in, not to worry. When they did, I somehow got a first class seat and they moved dad and Mickey [your sister] to first class too — and they put the rest of the women in the back. That was the only first class flight I’ve ever had and I did not enjoy it at all. I was miserable. I was so mad! Instead of putting two other women who were minorities up front, they moved the Fitzpatricks to the front. Nothing against those dispatchers but I didn't think that was fair. We weren't even sitting together in first class. So it wasn’t an accommodation: they just wanted to put everybody in the back. That happened on a Saturday. On Monday, I got the call from the school. If you remember, that's when I announced it to everybody.

KRF: I remember that. It was a surprise, but it also made sense.

MOM: Mickey said recently that he motivated me to do this last time — and what would I do now that he was back for a second time? It’s funny: I never gave him the credit, not by name. I never said he made me do it: I did it for the kids. His policy made me do it — but I wasn't going to give him the honor of me saying his name.

KRF: You shouldn't. It's not in his name that you're doing it: it's in the kids name, in the name of immigrants. He doesn’t need that power.

MOM: He doesn’t know who I am and it’s not like he's gonna read anything about me — but I'm not gonna say the name.

KRF: There is no good that will come from invoking him. He gets enough attention.

MOM: School was hard work, but I got it done. I remember the time when I was in the hospital, waiting to have surgery, and I was finishing a final. The nurse asked what I was doing and I told her and she asked if I was nuts. That was the last day I had and I had a window to work on it because I didn’t know what was going to happen after the surgery. But I did it — and got the whole thing done during Covid.

KRF: I talk about this all the time with friends and

Bobby Aaron Solomon

and in the newsletter, and it’s a trait from you (and dad, in some ways), that change doesn't just happen: you have to make a plan, set goals, and work toward them. It takes work. It takes time. Nothing ever “just happens.”

MOM: It’s hard, especially when you face systemic racism and, for me, some issues with English. In Georgia, people would ask about my accent and ask where I’m from. And I’d say Puerto Rico, but that I learned English in New York, New Jersey, and they go: but you have an accent. That’s why I no longer have a New Jersey accent because of that. Mickey pointed out that they were trying to make me feel bad because I’m from somewhere else — I never realized that they were putting me in “my place.” Do you know what I mean? Now, living in El Paso, that's not an issue. Now the issue is my age. People will ask what I do for work and I say that I’m in an immigration office — and they’ll ask if I’m a secretary. That’s not to say anything bad about secretaries but it speaks to their idea of what people like me are able to do. Then they ask if I’m a legal assistant but, no, I'm a lawyer — and they are just so shocked by that. Then I tell them that I graduated last year and they don’t believe it. Life is funny: you go from one minority group to another minority group, or at least that's how I see it. People are always trying to make you feel inferior. And if that’s how I feel? As someone who speaks English, who was able to get an education? Imagine how everyone else feels. That’s not okay.

KRF: It speaks to intersectionality, of your being of an age, gender, and identity where someone might assume you are “what you look like.” They categorize you in a place, which is reflective of the larger issues of misogyny and racism and class that we literally saw with the past election.

MOM: Especially class. I'm not glamorous. I don't try to be glamorous — but people make assumptions. I'm gaining quite a bit of pleasure from changing their faces because I don't say anything right away. I just listen and then I gently put it out there and they're like, “Oh.” That’s a different sort of racism.

KRF: It's an important context, that even in a place like El Paso, where there is a lot of cultural mixing and diversity, there are still all the very American problems, that things can be so red in one of the bluest parts of a state. That's America, for better or worse. Now that you’re on the other side of your goal, walk me through how you made a plan because I know someone out there reading this, who is frustrated or mad or sad, is hoping for change by taking action — and they don't know how to do it. How did you do it? How did you make the leap from seeing kids in cages to law school, to legal work?

MOM: Well, I prayed about it. I know that sounds cliche but I said, “God. What can I do?” Some people don't consider that a prayer, but that's how I talk to God. What can I do? I was just a teacher: they don't even pay us enough to think. That's where I was. As a citizen, it felt like I had no power. We have one vote — and that's it. I thought about what profession can help, then I thought outside of myself because it's not about me. It's not about what I'm going through: it's about what they, those kids, are going through. I don’t know: it just came to me, that as a lawyer I could change laws, or work with the people who do that. It would give me a little more credibility and a little more education. That's what I was thinking: if I can change the law, if I can go in there and go to court and defend these kids and get them reunited with their moms — that’s all I wanted. Last time I looked, there were still 800 kids missing because they were adopted or in foster care. These moms are not going to see these kids and the kids are too little to remember anything. That's the part that I was struggling with because — as a mom — I would be lost. And, having been a child that was abandoned by her mother, I know the feeling these kids may have. Who can help these moms? Because immigration officials aren’t going to do anything because they're following rules. They're government officials. They do what they’re told. Lawyers go in and try to help, try to come up with a plan. We lived in Georgia at the time — and I had no plan. I just knew I was going to finish my degree and then start finding people to help. And who would have thought that God's plan was kind of crazy, that I would move to one of the biggest border towns in the country because your brother moved here?

KRF: I was going to say: divine timing. Everything happens for a reason! Everything in the right place, right time. Divine intervention! I think that’s true but I also think that — as you ingrained in me — you have to look for opportunities to get involved, finding a place to work and to help out. You started by volunteering too, building an infrastructure and helping out how you could from where you were, before you officially moved.

MOM: Where I work now is where I volunteered, which is where you volunteered. I did that and I then applied for an internship because it was part of what I had to do for law school. Eventually, they said…why don't you just apply to work with us? And I was like, “I have no experience.” And they said they’d teach me and I was able to become a caseworker. I planned to go to law school and everything else “happened” — but I was looking. Start by looking and things fall into place. It was divine intervention but I also didn't sit around and do nothing while I was in law school. I wanted to help people wherever I could.

KRF: That's a key element. The “stars aligned” but you also did something to make them align. It reminds me of this classic thing, where I talk to artists and writers and they want people to see their work — but are they putting work out there? Are they writing? A lot of times they aren’t.

MOM: That's the hard part. Actually doing the things. Here’s an example: the people who come here, who need to work, they do what they have to to work legally. They have to wait for work permits but they have to work to even get that permit. So many immigrants are doing the work to follow the system. Then you have people on the television — and even people in our house — who believe these immigrants are all doing illegal things. Some of them are, but most aren’t.

KRF: That’s just people. Some people are bad, some aren’t. When it comes to immigrants, it comes back to the idea of people in power making you feel hopeless, that a politician and their laws are the only answer, so that you feel like you can’t do anything. That’s sort of the point, to get you to freeze and never unfreeze — or to trust them to be the one who unfreezes you, which is maybe not something you should fall for.

MOM: People with power think you’ll believe anything.

KRF:  Absolutely. A lot of people, myself included, struggle with a desire or goal and feeling that there’s only one way of doing something, that you’ve failed if it’s not the “best” version of it. That lack of realism can block being open to opportunity.

MOM: That's social media. People on the internet are all about making themselves bigger. Quietly and steady, you can do so much more because you're not bringing attention to yourself. It’s about being selfless. You can't do it for any other reason. What made me think I could do this? I believed I am not smart enough, my English isn't good enough: all these obstacles and I got over them. You can get over them, if you're willing to do work for what you believe in. In my last year of school, I thought I had made such a mistake, that this was crazy and I shouldn’t have done it. But that end goal: there were the kids that needed help. People come into my office and are desperate because they've gone to places that are for-profit and they're being charged for something that takes me thirty minutes to do. I only thought about the kids and it’s so much bigger than that, than my little idea of what’s possible.

KRF: That’s a good reminder that action starts by starting somewhere. It’s easy to get tangled up in hopelessness: it's a cycle as we all know well. So…what’s your advice to anybody right now who is like “I have to do something.” and doesn’t know what to do. What do they do?

MOM: You have to take baby steps with the community you're in. Have you seen an organization that helps immigrants, especially a nonprofit? There are so many nonprofits: go to one that helps immigrants. It’s not just feeding them and housing them but teaching them English. Can you help with that? That's one of the most basic things. If you want to start something small, start an English class at a library because, if you speak English, you know how to teach it. Teach them the basic skills of how to go to the store, how to do anything, because the more they know, the less fear will be in their hearts. Take baby steps with them and yourself. It will not happen overnight. Make a long term calendar to know where you want to be. I want to be able to do this by this time. When I first got here, I had places say that they didn’t need English classes or citizenship classes. There's no need in the community. And I looked around and…were they kidding? So many people need such basic help. There are so many different people who need help — not just people from Mexico. So many people I work with are from South America, from so many countries. Familiarize yourself with them because Spanish isn't even their first language: they’re Indigenous people, with languages that no one outside of their villages speak. Find out what these people need and help take care of them. You might think “I'm only one person.” but, if all of us do it, that's a big group.

KRF: That’s all very doable and very realistic and things that we can all do. Which brings us to the last thing: what do you think are the bigger subjects that are going to emerge in the next few years? What will be the biggest priorities? What might people not be thinking about?

MOM: I feel like people are going to be less trusting. Immigrants are going to be in hiding. I hate to equate this but, like Jews hiding from Nazis, people had to protect them. That's what I feel. Even in this town, if you pick someone up in your car to give them a ride, you can get arrested for human trafficking. Helping immigrants will become more dangerous, not just for them but for all of us. So, there is this fear. We’re on alert here too, that someone could put pressure on our organization and funding could get pulled. That's a problem, that and fears of bomb threats because we’re a nonprofit. There's two of us [nonprofits] in this town and we're very, very busy because people want to get things done before January. You have to take care of yourself too. Maybe unite with people who have similar thinking, to empower each other, because we don't know what the laws are going to do and we just have to remind ourselves that these laws took years to be put into effect — and it takes time for them to be eliminated. Keep yourself informed and, I'm sorry, but watch more than one news source because it's so biased everywhere. Do some good research and find out what's really happening — and protest if you have to. If we can protest the laws, we will. If people want more information, they can email me —

KRF: Actually, we’ll have them email me, to filter anything, so you don’t get any harassment.

MOM: That sounds good because people say wild things. You’d be shocked.

KRF: How so?

MOM: When I first got here, I was just kind of working with immigrant children and trying to help them reunify with their parents. This Hispanic woman I knew told me they needed to send them all back. I'm like, “You were just in this situation.” It's amazing how many people say that. Now I'm more cautious, because you don't know who's talking to you — and people become very angry that you’re doing things like this. Even at church, someone who is also Hispanic said we need to send them back. You have to find like-minded people.

KRF: Oh dear. It’s not only that but it’s also having people skills, or community skills, to be able to build from there.

MOM: Align yourself with an organization that's doing the right thing. You have to be cautious though because you never know. I've learned not to speak right away, to not share what I do, because people will just eventually say it. Even at church!

KRF: …and the church is supposed to be for everybody.

MOM: I'm Catholic so I don’t know the verse but: feed and take care of the widows and the orphans. We're in interesting times, and I expect it to get very, very hard. The day it happened, my boss explained that we are all prepared. She gave every single one of us a hug and told us we were going to be okay. That’s a good boss. We can't afford to get overwhelmed or burn out. We need to continue the fight. We just lost the battle but the war is still going.

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If you’re looking to get involved with matters of immigration, here’s a list of organizations in in metropolitan areas (that I pulled, etc.). There are likely many and there are likely options right where you are. And if not? Start one! Some of these extend beyond immigration too, supporting more under-served communities and working beyond legal aid.

• Arizona: Florence Immigrant & Refugee Rights Project, Promise, Friendly House, Chicanos por la Causa

• California: Border Angels, SDIRC, La Raza, CARECEN, IILA, The Civil Rights Project, CHIRLA, ICWC

• Colorado: Intercambio

• Florida: Americans for Immigrant Justice, FLIC, Florida Immigration Law & Justice Center, 

• Georgia: New American Pathways, CASA, GLAHR

• DC & New England: NEJON, MIRA, Project Citizenship, IINE, Ayuda, CARECEN, Amica

• New Mexico: Santa Fe Dreamers Project, NMILC, The Sisters of Our Lady of Guadalupe and Saint Joseph

• New York: NYIC, Immigrant ARC, Make The Road, Her Justice, HIAS, Chinese Progressive Association, CALA, UnLocal

• Northwest: Northwest Immigration Rights Project

• Midwest: The Immigration Project, ICIRR, NIJC, New Roots, Midwest Immigration Bond Fund

• Texas: Justice For All Immigrants, RAICES, American Gateways, Estrella del Paso (Which is where my mother works!)

• National (And International) Organizations: American Immigration Lawyers Association, ACLU, International Rescue Committee, KIND, ILRC

Have another place to add? Have an idea of how to help? Looking for others to link up with? Share in the comments — and share this story with others, to help facilitate solutions. Of course this post is about immigration but feel free to share other subjects that you’re interested in working toward and helping out with, from the environment to income equality to equal rights to disability advocacy and beyond: whatever area you’re looking to help in, let’s hear it, using this space as a place to build from.

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