As we enter into the fifth month of the presidency of Donald Trump, immigrant communities would have been the most hit by the new law just passed by the House.

As this edition goes to press, the news of a bill backed by Trump to crack down on undocumented immigrants passed the U.S. House of Representatives on Thursday, drawing criticism from immigration activists and others who called them a threat to civil liberties.

The target is the so-called “Sanctuary City,” a status designated by local government to protect undocumented immigrants who are jailed for whatever minor offenses, even for traffic violations.

The House voted 228-195 to pass the “No Sanctuary for Criminals Act” that would withhold some federal grants to so-called “sanctuary city” jurisdictions that do not comply with certain federal immigration laws.

Also passed was “Kate Law, ” named for Kate Steinle, who was shot dead in San Francisco in 2015 by an undocumented immigrant who had been deported five times.

It must be noted that it is well-known undocumented labor is part of the daily life in the United States, and restaurant chains, construction companies, private homes, etc., utilize these men and women to perform jobs most American won’t do. And so, they are part of the growing economy in the country. And they are not criminals. However, with so many laws mining our lives, anyone may hit one of them and get arrested for a violation.

And the sad thing is that when someone runs for public office they try to blame the easiest target, so they find a perfect one in undocumented people. But it is not fair to continue inflicting pain to millions who had left their countries to serve and help the US economy with their low-cost labor that most citizens won’t do. And this anti-Sanctuary Law really unfairly hurt the most vulnerable.

The legislators and politicians know that these sanctuaries don’t protect the criminal, it just protects the person from being automatically deported without the benefit of due process – a right to see a judge, a process that is guaranteed in a democracy and in the Constitution.

Sanctuaries provide some protection for undocumented immigrants under laws that limit how much cooperation local police may have with federal immigration authorities.

The “No Sanctuary for Criminals Act” prohibits sanctuary cities from adopting policies that restrict police officers from asking individuals about their immigration status or the immigration status of others.

Imagine that a hateful neighbor wants to take revenge against his undocumented neighbor because he has a pretty wife, and calls the police on the guy, and accuses him of selling drugs, when in fact is a fabrication. So he is arrested.

Well, the sanctuary protection will not notify the immigration, rather, the suspect will be investigated and probably released after it is found that he is innocent. So the wife and his children didn’t lose their loved one. The family remained intact. But now all this could change.

And although both bills will need approval from the Senate to become law, the panic will already be spread onto the community.

Texas is going through its own persecution case of Latinos.

A federal judge will hear arguments to decide whether the harsh anti-sanctuary cities law will take effect in September.

Anger at Texas’ strict new immigration law simmered as a thousand Latino policymakers and advocates gathered in Dallas this weekend, ahead of a hearing in which civil rights groups will ask for the measure to be blocked.

A federal court in San Antonio will hear arguments on Monday, with Judge Orlando García to decide whether to grant a preliminary injunction that would stop the law, known as SB4, from taking effect on Sept. 1.

SB4 is in some aspects redolent of Arizona’s SB1070, a “show me your papers” law that was passed in 2010 but largely neutered by court challenges. Conference-goers in Dallas also recalled California’s Proposition 187, a measure passed by voters in 1994 that would have denied social, health and educational services to undocumented immigrants. It was swiftly halted in court.

The Texas law would in effect ban “sanctuary cities” – places that offer limited or no cooperation with immigration authorities – by criminalizing and fining officials who do not accede to requests to hold immigrants for federal pick-up and potential deportation.

The human face of the case is that many people enter the US without documents because sometimes they are too poor to qualify for a visa in their country, and because visas are almost impossible to obtain. The requirements are too high for this people to fulfill. They just want to work, work and work, and so they cross the border for survival.

I feel for those many – who probably have been living in the country for decades and have no criminal record – that will be victimized by this law, and who will leave their families behind for petty offenses such as traffic violations.

And also for those businesses that benefit from low-cost labor, which allow them to keep consumer prices low for the general public.

And with this I am not endorsing the presence of those who are real criminals who deserve to be taken away. But to soften those harden hearts.

Why cannot this government pass to another page by embracing everyone and start a new chapter of reconciliation? Why every administration has to go through the same process of persecuting the most vulnerable, in the name of security?
(News services contributed to this article).

por Marvin Ramírez

On June 12, 2004, just days before Father’s Day that year, my dad passed away. I received the call at around 11 p.m. from one of my sisters: “Mi papá just died.” He was 87 years old, but I had wanted him to live to 100.

When I received the news, everything suddenly turned hollow inside me. We had been expecting this for a long time. There was no cure for his illness: cancer in one of his kidneys.

He had been in agony for more than a year since the cancer started eating him up, little by little. He was just skin on bones by this time.

The last time I had gone to visit him at the house of one of my brothers in San Leandro – where he suffered through his final days – I couldn’t hold back my tears. He was being fed liquid food through a tube in his stomach. I wanted to disconnect him, badly. But just for insinuating it, my siblings screamed at me.

Throughout my whole life, my father’s words of wisdom had kept me on a positive path, especially when making important decisions at the crossroads of my life. His words saved me on many occasions, when conducting myself as a journalist, interacting with other boys of my age or by preventing me from acquiring vices, like smoking.

When I was about 7 or 8 years old, I asked him why he didn’t smoke, as I never saw him with a cigarette in his mouth even though in those days it was very common for people to smoke. He responded in a wise way.

“Son,” he said, “when I was about 14 or 15, I used to wait at exactly 11 p.m., sitting on the sidewalk in front of my house, for a man who would give me the butt of his cigarette. I smoked that butt and then went to bed. I couldn’t go to sleep without smoking,” he said.

I still have memories of that man going home from work every night. In the middle of the night the dark streets of old Managua were lighted with low-intensity light bulbs used by the municipality in the 1930s. Most homes, I imagine, used candles to light up their homes. By 11 p.m., there were usually no other people around and the city was asleep.

I thought of the humiliation my father must have gone through, waiting every night on a dark, lonely street, for a few puffs on a butt of someone else’s cigarette before he could even go to bed. An addiction caused him to this.

Oh, Dad, because of that story, I never smoked. Thank you, Papacito.

For some reason, I usually listened to my father, unlike many people who disregard their old man’s words of wisdom. I tell you, even though he spoke little and never gave advice that wasn’t asked for, his words had power for me. When I approached him for advice, and he answered, his words resonated in my ears and stayed in my brain for years to come. And today, as an adult, I still hear his voice telling me which way I should go.

In the neighborhood where I lived in old Managua there was a kid in our neighborhood whose father owned an auto battery shop and factory. He drove his parents’ car and bragged all the time around us other kids. As I recall, he was around 18 or 20. I admired the guy, despite his arrogant personality. I was impressed to see him working in his family shop and dressing so well.

One day I asked him if I could get a job there – after school, of course. I was about 10 or 11 years old and I loved the idea of making some money.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have the body size for that work.

“No, Marvin,” he said, “those batteries are too heavy for you, you could get a hernia.” After that, I was disappointed, but continued the friendship.

One day, I found out that he had tried to court a pretty girl in the neighborhood who flirted with everybody but would not go with any guy, and she had rejected him.
He approached me one day and proposed that I should be his hit man.

“Marvin,” he said to me, “I’ll pay you good money if you beat up this girl…”

This took me by surprise. I was confused, what kind of opportunity was this? Making some money…. but by hitting a woman? “How can I do that?” I said to myself.
The next day, I saw my dad and I asked him what he thought about the proposition from my friend.

“Son,” he said, “Are you a gangster? Who could even think of doing something like that? Only criminals, low-class and bad people could ever do that. You are not a gangster.”

Those words are still in my memory, as fresh as if I had heard them just yesterday. I learned from my father the huge and important lessons of compassion, empathy and love. Thank you, father, for making of me a man of principles.

José Santos Ramírez Calero, born in Managua, Nicaragua on December 24, 1916, was my role model. His journalism career spanned more than 50 years. My admiration and appreciation for him is why I became a journalist, just as he was, and his father before him.

On this Father’s Day, I want to say to my Dad that even though his body might have turned into ashes at the cemetery, his spirit, love and words made me so much of the person I am today.

I want to say, to those of you who are fortunate enough to still have your father with you – listen to him, respect him and love him. He might be the greatest and most sincere friend that you will ever have. -Vale, Marvin Ramírez.