I wrote this article in 2009 during one of the most violent periods in Juárez's history. I was younger, emotional, and trying to make sense of what I was witnessing around me. While some of my perspectives have evolved, I still believe the central themes — education, opportunity, safety, and human dignity — remain relevant.

Homeland Security

I was sitting in a Starbucks in El Paso writing this article when I noticed an unmarked black Suburban with tinted windows parked to the side. Two men wearing dark suits exited a gray Dodge Charger. I stopped writing. I focused my attention on the men. Paralyzed, reminded of the grim reality I am living, I wondered what the men would do next. I could tell they were bodyguards because of the earpiece and small coiled wire tucked away in their suits. Who were they guarding? What were they doing at Starbucks? Thoughts raced through my mind. Reason told me to close my laptop and get out of there, but my curiosity told me to stay.

One of the men entered the Starbucks and looked around. He checked the restrooms and then whispered something into his coat pocket. His suit was unbuttoned, and I caught a glimpse of a gun holstered to his side. My mind was still racing. I was looking for markings on the vehicle, a radio antenna, a badge, anything that might tell me who these people were.  But there were no clues, nothing that identified them, and I was not about to ask.

Moments later, one of the bodyguards opened the back door of the suburban. Out came more people, all men, all wearing dark suits. One of the men sat down at the table next to me, and another stood outside. Another gentleman calmly and confidently ordered a coffee and purchased a copy of the El Paso Times. They must have been there for less than a minute. I was able to breathe normally again.

Being in such proximity to people with guns cannot be a good thing. Later that day, I learned that El Paso was hosting the sixth annual Border Security Conference. I will never know who they were for sure.

The violence in Juarez is picking up and seems to have no end. Just a few months ago, the first drug-related homicide was confirmed in El Paso. Miles of new fence separate the two countries. Homeland security agents patrol the border in a desperate attempt to keep the violence confined to the other side. But as long as there is demand for drugs, the supply will continue. 

Three Case Studies

The problem Mexico is experiencing affects the lives of not only drug smugglers but many honest, hardworking people, including their families and their children. The criminals in Mexico are taking advantage of the lawlessness and are operating with impunity. They extort legitimate businesses, restaurants, and stores. Restaurants have been burned because they refuse to pay the new “tax.” Entrepreneurs, corporate managers, and small business owners are contacted and threatened.  Those are the people coming to the United States, along with their children, never to return. 

My parents brought me to the United States when I was three years old. Back then, people arriving here were poor and tired and in search of the American Dream. Today, people come for different reasons. I will present three case studies of people I’ve met: 1) a family afraid for their own safety coming to the United States as a preventive measure, 2) a mother who was threatened and came close to being kidnapped, and 3) a husband and father who was actually kidnapped and lived to tell about it. 

Case Study 1:

A mother, whom I will call Elizabeth, came to El Paso from Parral, Chihuahua. Elizabeth has an eight-year-old daughter, and neither of them spoke a word of English when they arrived this past January. The husband owns a cattle ranch and is very rich, even by American standards, and he knew that his family was in grave danger. He heard some of the kidnapping stories and decided not to wait for it to happen to him. He purchased a five-bedroom home in El Paso and asked his wife and daughter to leave their beloved city. The husband could not come with them because he had to tend to his ranch in Parral. He visits El Paso only occasionally.  

Elizabeth was placed in a difficult situation. Her first task was to register her daughter in the local public elementary school, but this was difficult in itself. The school administrators were reluctant to help and kept asking Elizabeth for her United States driver’s license. Elizabeth had to explain to them she had just arrived from Mexico and did not, could not, obtain a driver’s license - all she wanted was to register her little girl in school. 

After much arguing, translating, and explaining, the school finally admitted Elizabeth’s daughter. Next came the task of helping her daughter with her homework, all in English. They did the best they could. After two frustrating months, Elizabeth’s daughter was finally able to complete her homework on her own. 

Case Study 2: 

This case involves my ex-neighbor, a Mexican woman whom I will call Isabel. Isabel is married to John Smith. The couple has two boys, one 7 years old and the other 13 years old. They lived in El Paso until the husband was transferred by his company to Queretaro, a beautiful colonial city about an hour west of Mexico City. The blond-haired, blue-eyed boys did not want to leave El Paso but had no choice. The company sold the house and moved the family’s furniture and belongings to Mexico. The boys attended an all-American private school and lived comfortably in a large hacienda-style house. John was usually not home because he had to travel frequently. Isabel and the two boys, easy prey for the kidnappers, were unaware that they were being stalked. 

The professional kidnapper will typically study the victim for two or three weeks. They will learn the phone numbers of relatives and estimate the victim’s financial worth. They gather as many details about the victim as possible. They obtain information by bribing someone: a maid, a chauffeur, a neighborhood guard, or even the food vendor standing on the street corner. Once the person is kidnapped, the kidnappers will ask the victim questions (questions they already know the answer to) to see if the victim will answer truthfully. 

The kidnappers were ready to make the hit. They knew Isabel’s routine and were expecting her to return home alone after dropping the kids off at school - but something changed that day. A meeting at school, an unexpected change in her routine, made Isabel take longer than usual to return home. Fortunately, the maid noticed men waiting outside and alerted Isabel. The element of surprise was ruined, and the plan was foiled. The kidnappers realized that their opportunity was gone, and in a last desperate attempt to get their money, they called Isabel. They threatened her and confessed their evil intentions.

In the United States, one would normally call the police or the FBI to report the crime, but not in Mexico. With no place to go, Isabel had no choice but to pick up her kids from school and head straight to the airport. 

Isabel was one of the lucky ones, but the next one might not be as lucky. Kidnappers learn from their mistakes and are always getting better at what they do. Isabel is now safely living in the United States, but she is understandably upset that her children and husband have taken away such a bad impression of her country. They will never return.

Case Study 3: 

This is the story of a gentleman I met not too long ago. It was not my intention to interview him. It was a chance meeting and a conversation I will never forget. The man, whom I will call Rodrigo, has a wife and two children, an 8-year-old boy and a 12-year-old daughter. We were in the backyard of a friend’s house, celebrating a birthday for one of the young boys. Rodrigo was flipping burgers.  I figured I would strike up a conversation.

“Are you from Delicias?” I asked after noticing the name imprinted on his baseball cap.

“No,” he said, “I am from Jimenez.”

“Oh, what brings you to El Paso?” 

“I live here,” he said. 

The answer confused me, for he had just mentioned he was from Jimenez, Mexico. There was a moment of awkward silence after which he had no choice but to continue with his explanation.

 “We came here due to an emergency. You see, I was kidnapped.”

I remained silent. I could hear the sizzling burgers on the grill and children playing in the background. He continued, 

“They kept me in a cave for seven weeks,” he said in a soft voice, almost a whisper, so that others wouldn’t hear.  

I still did not say anything. I was trying to get past the initial shock of what he was telling me. The Spanish word for kidnapped, “secuestrado,” kept swirling around in my head. What does one respond to such a statement? I had to say something, and without really thinking, I blurted out the first thing that came to my head:

“Yeah, the situation is pretty bad. I work in Juarez. I go over there every day.” 

“Be careful,” he replied. “If you get kidnapped, just try to get along with them. These people have no education, but they know everything about you. My advice is to get their minds off of what they are doing. Try to distract them from their job. It’ll make time go by faster.”

I could have asked many questions, but at that moment, I felt it would be inappropriate. A journalist would have asked things like: How much did you pay them? Did they hurt you? Did you think you would die? What was going through your head while you were there? But I did not ask - I just listened. What more could anyone do?

Immigrant Children

There is a community of children who arrived in the U.S. from Mexico and do not speak a word of English. They arrived with their parents and will never go back, and will always live in fear. They fear that someone will ask them where they were born because they hate lying, and they would rather not respond. These children were not yet old enough to understand borders, nationalities, and the naturalization process when they first arrived. The sky, the clouds, and the playground all look the same.

In time, they learn English and make friends. They don't know the first thing about living in Mexico. Many of them can no longer speak Spanish. They remain here, indefinitely, living in fear, living a secret life. 

I was born in Juarez but grew up in El Paso. While in school, I learned to respect the rights and property of others, to give credit where credit is due, to be tolerant of other races and religions, and to help those in need. In the U.S., children still watch PBS programs like Clifford, Arthur, and Caillou, to name a few. The stories are entertaining but also teach important moral values: how to share, play fair, have respect, work together, be responsible, be truthful, be kind, believe in yourself, and be a good friend. 

Children are like sponges, absorbing everything they see. Those who are allowed to roam the streets, mingle with adults, and listen to dirty jokes will be the criminals of the future. Children who play adult games and pretend to belong to drug cartels will be more costly in the long run. It is cheaper to keep them in school today than to keep them in a U.S. prison ten years from now. Children learn through imitation, and in the city of Juárez, children are imitating violence. Instead of sending more guns, the United States should send more books.

The American Dream

My mother worked as a clerk at a local grocery store, and my father worked as an operator at a refinery. They got up at 4 in the morning to go to work. Like most other immigrants, I quickly fell in love with the United States. By about age 7, my innocence diminished. At an early age, I observed, compared, and analyzed. I learned that the U.S. holds a unique advantage.