Orphaned at 7 Pablo began working at 10 years old to support his brothers and sisters. In order for him to find a job he had to work for a week, without pay, in order to prove to his employers that he could handle the job. Later he found himself a “bracero,” literally a man whose most valued asset was his arms and hands. Working the Valle Imperial, he lost two of his children to the heat. Can you imagine losing a child to the heat? Not to smallpox, leukemia, an accident but to the heat. He told me this matter of factly, as if this was not an uncommon occurrence just a reality of his life. But the sadness of this was reflected in his eyes. The recalling of it seemed to bring forth a tone of despair at not being able to provide a safe environment for his children. This same heat that claims on the average a person a day as they make their way across the scorching landscape that separates us from them. A collective us who blindly partake of their presence in every restaurant, landscape, and strawberry field we pass. Has anyone thought about those people? Hunched over for hours so we can enjoy a strawberry.

Let those facts sink into your consciousness for a moment. Savor the thought. Let it seep into the deep recesses of your mind where a small genetic ember burns. One that was planted their by our ancestors and ancients, who came here seeking to improve their lives. A long forgotten remnant of our past, which many choose to lay aside in order to assume the American identity.

That is the reality of all who are not native born to the Americas. Every European drop of blood that flows in all of us did not originate here. Marcus Garvey knew this, Malcolm X knew this, Cesar Chavez knew this, the minutemen know this, and the nativeist knows this. If any of those mentioned stand in conflict it is not for lack of understanding of this fact, but a lack of “kinship,” which Father Greg Boyle speaks so clearly about in his book “Tatoos of The Heart.”

Father Boyle speaks to us about Jurisdictions. As in every case in the life of the immigrant and his children there is a rich history of separateness in the U.S. We are taught at an early age that we must separate or assimilate in order to gain the level of self-respect necessary to “make it” in this part of the world. Some will say, “save yourself the trouble and stay where you are or go back to where you came from…go back to that shit hole of a country” if you don’t like it “Here.”

Here is a very fluid place. Five hundred years ago here was a land and a people whose rich culture, language, science, mathematics, architecture and religion reflected thousands of years of history. “Here” today is only a fraction of that time line. Who is arrogant enough to claim “Here” without having lived-Here for millennia?

Manifest destiny was simply a biblical rationalization. An extension of the Spanish theory as they spread Christianity to the “savages,” by enslavement, murder and deceit.

Gold greed and control of wealth were behind this deception, nothing more.

If we are to explore kinship and begin to allow acceptance to flourish among us then it is time for us to do as Pablo has and live as if everyone has the potential to be someone of value in our lives. We are all connected in some way. If you lift a vegetable to your mouth, a pair of brown hands picked it, if you live in a comfortable home, a pair of brown hands built it, if you look out at a green lawn in the morning, a pair of brown hands made it so, if we sit down with family to dine at a restaurant, a pair of brown hands prepared your meal. We have already accommodated and encouraged these hands to be here. To keep them in the shadows simply encourages many to abuse and disrespect their presence here. We, collectively as an extension of our human kinship, deserve the right to be “Here” because we were and are “Here.” All we collectively ask is to be treated as “ser humano,” no special favors, simply accepted as native to this land.