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Anna Vogt is the MCC LACA advocacy and policy analyst. This post is the conclusion of our series on migration.

“Working with people that are vulnerable, I must be open to receive from them.” Beto Ramos states as we sit in a circle amidst pallet furniture in the back of the Catholic parish. “As we work with new volunteers and they interact with migrants at the shelter, their discourse begins to change, from describing migrants as delinquents or criminals to learning their names and describing them, first of all, as people.”

Beto Ramos. Anna Vogt.

Beto is the director of CAME, a migrant shelter in Agua Prieta, located directly on the Mexico/US border and often the last stop for migrants seeking to make their way into the United States. Beto is also a migrant himself, spending most of his teenage years living in the United States before deciding to move back to Mexico. He tells us that most migrants arrive with the desire to cross immediately, yet are often daunted, by the sheer challenge of crossing the border without papers. Tales of dehydration, cartels, Border Patrol and other realities of the dangerous journey are a cause for pause. CAME provides a place to stay, with meals, as well as the opportunity to earn a basic wage working in a wood shop, learning carpentry skills and building simple furniture, before deciding whether to carry on north or seek different options.

The Parish also works to change concepts of migration within Agua Prieta, speaking about shared humanity and the root causes of migration during mass and leading a Viacrucis during Easter focused on the migrant journey. They join in with Frontera de Cristo, a Presbyterian run ministry and MCC partner, in encouraging the town to welcome and receive the migrants in their community. Over time, Beto says, he has seen a difference in how the citizens of Agua Prieta receive people, now directing migrants to the centre and slowly changing the way they are talked about in the community, moving from being seen as a burden to a blessing. After all, Agua Prieta has changed from being a small town of 15000 to over 120,000 people, the majority migrants.

Jack and Linda Knox, front and centre. Anna Vogt.

“Our faith is the foundation for the hospitality we provide,” Linda Knox tells me on the other side of the border, as she scoops out coffee into a filter. “It also gives us our second rule.” She pauses to wipe her hands on her apron. “Fear not. That’s it. That’s how we choose to live our lives.”

“The opposite of violence is not non-violence. It’s hospitality.” Jack, her husband, adds. “We aren’t engaging in any sort of social work; we are just receiving people as they are.” Of course, part of receiving people as they are meaning recognizing their agency, as people on the move.

Linda and Jack, themselves migrants from Colorado, moved to Douglas, Arizona, the small town that shares a border with Agua Prieta, because they believe in hospitality that crosses border. Practically, this has meant dedicating their retirement to provide a space for migrants and others who need a place to stay. Using the proceeds of the sale of their home, they were able to buy two houses in Douglas: Shalom House and their current home. Both houses have an open door policy and there is always room for another plate at the table. They refuse to accept payment for the hospitality they provide.

Vigil to remember migrants have died crossing the desert. Anna Vogt.

Every Thursday, the Knoxes cross the border to cook breakfast at CAME and on Tuesdays lead a vigil in honour of all of the migrants who have lost their lives in the Douglas county desert. For Beto, Linda, and Jack, hospitality is intimately connected to root causes and structural injustice. They advocate against deportations and work for increased awareness for the causes behind migrants’ journeys, while at the same time opening homes and providing services for travellers.

Andrés Toribio. Anna Vogt.

On the southern side of Mexico’s other border, in the tiny community of El Ceibo, Guatemala, Andrés Toribio sits under an almond tree and tells us about his own work as part of a group of Familias Solidarias. Familias is an informal organization of families living along the Mexico-Guatemala border who open up their homes to feed migrants before they try to cross into Mexico. In the last year, the group has fed over 900 people on the move. Despite being accused by local authorities of human trafficking, Andrés refuses to stop sharing with migrants. His story is similar to others along the southern border; after all, our group heard, when thousands of Guatemalans fled to Mexico as refugees during the civil war, they were welcomed. Being able to welcome others on their journey is part of what it means to live well on the border and to remember the ways that lives are already entwined together. Borders are artificial barriers.

This blog series started as a way to share migrant perspectives and open up our understanding of people on the move today throughout Latin America and the Caribbean. We wanted to be open to seeing more than simply a single story, but rather a complex range of ordinary people who are trying to live their lives well in the midst of contexts and circumstances.

Ted Oswald.

The series introduced us to many different people and circumstances. We met Gerad, a refugee from the DR Congo who is making a new life in Mexico City, thanks to the help of Casa de los Amigos. We learnt about Alexa and Hector, young Hondurans who unsuccessfully attempted to migrate north, but now, through the support of CASM, are receiving technical education to give them a future in their own country. Eduard, Jasmine, Joli, and Gerda, are four Haitians who face the challenge of trying to build new lives in their native country after leaving the Dominican Republic. We also learned about the constant flow of Bolivians to Argentina and back, the journey from rural to urban Haiti,; Colombians fleeing to Ecuador; climate change affecting farmers in Nicaragua, coffee farmers staying in Chiapas through just trade and much more.

We also saw how complicated defining migrants and migration can be, but that beyond all definitions, how our call, especially this Christmas season is to remember, as Elizabeth Phelps stated:

Christian advocates often use the image of the Holy Family fleeing to Egypt in order to evoke not only empathy for refugees and migrants, but also to show that Jesus was himself a refugee and a migrant. In seeking to serve and to aid “the least of these,” we are literally serving Christ. I believe this is the central tenet of a Biblically-based approach to immigration policy and advocacy. The injunction to hospitality towards strangers does not hinge on the merit of those seeking shelter, but on their humanity. As Nancy Heisey put it, “it is central to being fully human to welcome the stranger. Hospitality is at the heart of humanity. It is central to our welfare as a human race, it is central to our survival. If we do not welcome strangers, we are doomed.

Instead of viewing migrants as simply burdens, it is important to understand how flows of people worldwide are normal and often a source of good for the community where they arrive. Just like Beto, Linda and Jack, migrants often strengthen and benefit their local communities. And of course, migrants are also human beings and deserve all the rights accorded to humans anywhere, regardless of their citizenship, status or personal choices.

Anna Vogt.

In the midst of a complex global panorama, it is also vitally important to engage in advocacy. While we recognize that both migration and hospitality are normal human patterns that have taken place for millenium, we also acknowledge the need to take steps to advocate for travel protection and against root causes that force people far from home. Unfair trade and economic policies, xenophobia, violence and climate change are only some of the reasons why people are choosing to increasingly leaving home, not simply north, but also to urban areas and neighbouring countries. We must question how our own countries are involved in policies that negatively impact lives and encourage migration.

Hospitality is the other side of the migration coin and provides an avenue for action.

How can welcome be not only provided by individuals, but also the values of hospitality be established in public policy throughout the Americas? Among other elements, this would require due processing, humane treatment and diminished militarization.

While this specific series is coming to an end, our focus on migration is not. Rather, given the importance of these theme in each of the countries where we work, we will continue to seek avenues for advocacy and diverse ways of understanding migration and people on the move throughout 2017. Stay tuned for more!