Tag Archives: community service

DACA

DACA: (n) Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals: a program intended to allow undocumented immigrants who were brought to the U.S. as minors to legally remain

Horror stories.

Whenever you find yourself in a conversation with other folks, and one side tries to justify their position by telling you a horror story to reinforce their point, and then the other group equally intends to rationalize their thoughts by relating a horror story from their perspective, you need to realize that both parties have not thought this situation through to a conclusion.

There are so many issues in our country that fall into this category that it would take many essays to isolate each one.

All of these groups are obsessed with extremes. It is a competition to portray that their members are more logical and super-patriotic.

Meanwhile, there are children in this country who are here because their parents brought them from other countries.

The children didn’t plan the trip.

These youngsters were not in on the deception to be illegal aliens.

No matter how hard you may try to prosecute them, they will always be innocent and unable to be proven guilty.

Yet the validity remains that they are not naturalized citizens.

If you wish to insist that they should be welcomed into our country no matter what the circumstances, then I’m sure you can present a case in which frightened young humans are being terrorized by the state with the threat of deportation—a removal, by the way, to a land they have never known.

On the flip side, if you think that it’s completely irrational to have these children receive blanket immunity when their parents were breaking the law by bringing them here, then you will certainly have a cautionary tale about how some of these unwelcome “nesters” have grown up to commit crimes or continue to flaunt their improper status right under the nose of the law.

My feelings on DACA are simple.

No one should be allowed to stay in this country simply because they look pathetic.

But also, no one should be thrown out of this country simply because they look pathetic.

Here’s an idea.

Offer a crash course—a two-month study of our nation, complete with community service to the neighborhood, a test to become Americans, and if these “offspring without a country” complete this journey without bad attitudes or cutting corners, their amends should allow them to become part of “we, the people.”

Bail

Bail: (n) the temporary release of an accused person awaiting trial, guaranteed by a sum of moneyDictionary B

Once upon a time in a delirium far away, I considered myself to be a crusader for good. Matter of fact, I made it known to those around me that I was out to make my community a better place, one human soul at a time.

God, I felt noble. I actually sensed I was infused with supernatural energy and purpose.

In the process of walking through this cloudy-mindedness, I became known in my community as someonoe who would assist those who found themselves in trouble with the law, or even temporarily jammed into a jail cell.

So when Carrie called me at two o’clock in the morning, explaining that she had been falsely arrested for shoplifting and she needed help, I arose from my bed, put on my pants, grabbed my car keys and drove down to the city jail.

They allowed me to talk to her and I discovered that she had been shopping. apparently forgot that she had tried on some garment and was headed out of the store and was detained by security and placed under arrest for stealing.

It’s not so much that I believed her story as the fact that being under the influence of this false bravado of mission, I felt it was wrong of me to be cynical.

Her bail was $75, so I decided to pay it and let her come back to our house, where I intended to help her rehabilitate herself and become a fine citizen of the country that Washington and Lincoln built.

I noticed on the drive back to my house that Carrie had transformed from a repentant, teary-eyed lass of misfortune into a rather mouthy, self-centered and cautious individual, who wasn’t so sure she wanted to stay in our home. Matter of fact, by the next morning, she got itchy after breakfast, went out the door and I didn’t see her again until two weeks later, when I showed up for her court date.

She once again had donned her damsel-in-distress profile and succeeded in getting off with only community service for pinching the garments. Shortly after that, she disappeared.

I learned something through the process: nothing has value to any of us if we don’t have memory of possessing it and losing it.

$75 didn’t mean anything to Carrie, and the fact that I paid her bail was irrelevant. It had been some time since she had seen $75 and she certainly had never paid the bail for someone else.

It’s not that poor people are pernicious assholes–it’s just that they have no point of reference of what you’re giving up to help them, so it’s easy for them to walk away…without a thank-you.

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