By Eric George Tauber
SAN DIEGO — My theatre guest the other night was a young photography student, Esteban Aguilar. A very talented artist with a keen eye, Esteban has been creating a portfolio focusing on social justice issues such as the border fence. Esteban Aguilar’s work can be seen on Instagram, @daj3w.
In the lobby, we ran into some acquaintances that neither of us had seen in years. They hadn’t seen Esteban since he was a boy, specifically when his parents were arrested by ICE, thrown into Bailey Prison and later deported to Guatemala. (Seeing no safe future in Guaté, they had entered the US illegally before their three children were born.) I shall never forget spending my Sundays in the cramped, depressing corral waiting to visit them.
At the mention of the border, this couple -older and rather shall we say “set in their ways”- praised Trump. They couldn’t wait for the Wall to be completed.
Suddenly remembering who they were talking to, they quickly backpedaled saying, “That doesn’t mean we don’t want you here.” If I may presume to finish their thought, their next sentence would be: “We just want to keep out all of those other brown-skinned, Spanish-speaking foreigners whose personal traumas and tragedies we haven’t heard and frankly don’t care to listen to.”
It’s the old, “I don’t want to sound racist, but….” Once you’ve said that, there is nothing you can say that will not sound racist.
I’ve known this couple for years. They’re not “bad” people. They don’t burn crosses or shout epithets. They would never shoot up another’s house of worship or vandalize a cemetery. But they certainly feel a little threatened by American demographics shifting away from a white, straight, conservative, Christian majority.
There was a time when many American Jews yearned to be white too. I’m not just talking about skin tone and eye color. I’m talking about the benefits of white privilege: houses in the suburbs, ivy-league schools, fraternities, sororities and country clubs. With great effort and devotion of resources, those who could pried open the doors that had been heretofore slammed in our faces.
While nice houses and higher education are laudable goals, Jews are not called to be social climbers. Our history demands a different mission. We were slaves in Egypt. For forty years in the wilderness, we were a caravan of starving refugees fleeing violence and injustice, desperately searching for a better life. And those who met us with cruelty incurred Hashem’s wrath. This is why we have a God-given duty to help those in need in any way we can. This is why we should give ear to their stories.
When we sit down and listen, we may find that their stories have a familiar ring. We may find that the drug gangs and cartels are kindred spirits to the Cossacks and Nazis of our grandparents’ youth. Their tales of desperate hope may evoke tales of other people who crowded onto boats bound for Ellis Island. We may see in their eyes mirrors of our own past and realize that we share a common humanity.
Or we can just build a wall to keep “those people” out of our country. It’s nothing personal, of course. I mean, I don’t want to sound racist or anything.
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Tauber is a freelance writer based in San Diego. He may be contacted via eric.tauber@sdjewishworld.com
Great article, Eric!!