THE WORLD OF THE BORDER
EL MUNDO DE LA FRONTERA
By Flagstaff Arts and Leadership Academy’s 2013-14 Advanced Creative Writing
Sarah Adams
Cassidy Christiansen
Nathaniel Clinch
Reed Corse Parker
Dylan Dixon
Hailey Goebel
Ethan Gooby
Jeremy Graves
Ryan Loritz
AJ Maniglia
Aundrea Nebitsi
Samantha Quintinilla
Talia Rice
Meilani Sabino
Adrian Skabelund
Mike Levin, Instructor
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The ensemble gathers on stage.
ACTOR
Good evening. From August 2013 through June 2014, Flagstaff Arts and Leadership Academy’s
Advanced Creative Writing class agreed to write a theatre piece centered on the United StatesMexico border. Through ten months, the fifteen students and their teacher discussed and
researched the issues, traveled to Nogales and immersed themselves with No More Deaths.
ACTOR
We are members of Flagstaff Arts and Leadership Academy’s Advanced Acting. The
performance you are about to see is based on true events and inspired by actual people and
writings.
Each performer introduces him/herself. (My name is …, I’m …, Me llamo …, or simply
stating his/her name. The last person says: “This is The World of the Border.” Another
says: “El Mundo de la Frontera.”).
ACTOR
This performance is about walls. The barrier that is and is being constructed is not the only wall
I’m talking about. It’s about all the walls you encounter when you talk about migration.
ACTOR
It’s about the wall between humankind that manifests in violence.
ACTOR
It’s about the wall that’s between us when we speak different languages.
ACTOR
It’s about having different races.
ACTOR
And racism: The belief that races have distinctive cultural characteristics determined by
hereditary factors and that this endows some races with an intrinsic superiority over others.
ACTOR
And racism: Abusive or aggressive behavior towards members of another race on the basis of
such a belief.
ACTOR
And racism: hatred or intolerance of another race or races.
ACTOR
It’s about the wall that’s between politicians, politics and the rest of us.
ACTOR
And the walls that money creates.
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ACTOR
The wall that drugs create.
ACTOR
It’s about justice.
ACTOR
It’s about death.
ACTOR
It’s about hitting the walls you hit when you agree to write a play about migration. And you keep
saying no, it’s too big, I can’t. These are people we don’t know, I can’t. They’re so different than
us, I can’t. We live 300 miles from the border, why is it my job? Are we the right people to do
this? Will we become colonizers once again?
ACTOR
And you keep saying every time you hit those walls: because I am a human being, from the state
of Arizona in which people on both sides of the border in this land I inhabit are dying. That
human lives are being commoditized. And I got lucky enough to be born into the United States
and I love it way too much to simply ignore what is going on here.
ACTOR
This is one of the migrants we helped to care for at a No More Deaths camp.
JOHN DOE
The following is translated into Spanish and projected on screen.
I waited on the side of the road. Not sure how long. Time had lost most of its meaning during
this ... crossing, except that I would be doing this again, no doubt. When they came in their truck,
they asked me the usual questions. It was the same man that was questioning me too. He didn’t
notice it though. I wonder if they can ever remember faces. When they put me on the bus, I knew
that I would be back out there. Today … tomorrow, didn’t matter …
ACTOR
Border Patrol agents cannot, of course, be interviewed while. We culled their words through
those retired and through research.
PATROL AGENT
It’s stressful. It’s dangerous. Anything could happen at any given time. Y’know we’re out there
oftentimes alone in really isolated areas at 2, 3 in the morning and you got a well-armed Mexican
military who are paid off to protect a drug cartel. They’ll shoot up our cars or us, they don’t care.
They need to move the drugs and we’re in the way. Rocking, too. Rocking’s become an
increasingly steadier occurrence. A bunch of Mexicans are trying to cross illegally into the U.S.
and they see a single agent so they take these multiple, large rocks and start chucking them so the
agent either shoots or retreats. It all takes a toll. Mentally. Physically. It’s incredibly hard work.
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JOHN DOE
The following is translated into Spanish and projected on screen.
I tried to make sense of it all. The water bottles that came empty, the food that was spoiled. I
thought of all the taunting from the desert’s spirits. I thought of my daughter. The most water she
had encountered in days were the tears wetting her cheeks. My daughter. My little girl. My child.
PATROL AGENT
When I found them I thought they were both dead. The heat baked into my hair. The dust stung
my eyelashes. I had followed the tracks. I found them. One huddled over the other like a heap of
death, it smelled too. A man and a child. I was about to call in the unit, but I heard the whimper.
The man knew I was there, he didn’t care. I stood. I watched. I watched tears roll off of his face
and onto the dead child. A child. Five, maybe, pink tattered dress, dark dirty curls, sun-blistered
face. I didn’t call for anyone. I only wanted him to know. (pause) When I returned home that
night I held Zoe until she fell asleep. My sympathy had worn out. How dare he, and any one of
these Mexicans, take that girl into the desert. How dare they. Might as well have killed her
himself. Now, I want him to understand.
CLIFFORD
My name is Clifford Alan Perkins. I was put in charge of building the United States Border
Patrol. I arrived in El Paso in 1908. Nobody seemed interested in hiring an unexperienced,
nineteen year old semi-invalid. See I moved there because I suffered from tuberculosis. I got
some menial jobs but the monotony was killing me. So I started mouthin off to one of my
coworkers at the post office and she mentioned something about this, uh, Immigration Service. I
didn’t even know what immigration was. So she explained two things: first, immigration had to
do with the exclusion, deportation and expulsion of aliens’. Right? Any alien entering the United
States in violation of any law. Second thing she says to me was that the starting salary was twice
that of what we were making at the Post Office. I signed up. I moved up there fast. In 1924 they
asked me to build the police force along the U.S.-Mexico border. It was awful, I’ll tell you.
Keeping men on was hard. By and large we weren’t hiring law enforcement officers; we had
working-class men. You give them a little power over these landholders along the border and
they take it all the way. The men I hired were too quick with a gun, or drank too much, too often
or both. They’d become corrupt because the men around them were corrupt, or get real violent
with the Mexicans or deport them without question. There was no very little organization,
resources, no real strategy of enforcement. No formal training. No substantial direction. There
were three stations – Los Angeles, El Paso, and San Antonio - along 2000 miles, so the men
were so isolated there was no way to keep an eye on them or communicate adequately. We also
had to deal with the locals and the Texas Rangers who didn’t take to us. We were doing the best
we could making it up as we went along. I recall a couple of agents who caught this Mexican
under suspicious circumstances and had bound him, dragged him to the water, and just kept on
dunking him until he admitted being a smuggler. It was real raw in those early days. You need
to keep in mind that this is backbone upon which this organization is built.
ACTOR
A group of us drove to Nogales and we had lunch at this amazing Mexican place that had
delicious food: Pollo Adobado, Pescado Taco, Milanesa de res. The downside is that, as writers,
there’s so much going against us. None of us are fluent in Spanish, and the little that we speak no
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one will talk to us. We don’t know where to go or what to do. Those walls. And midway through
our meal twenty-some border patrol agents descend on the place and stand in line. They all have
orders to go. It was a striking moment in the collision of two cultures.
ACTOR
We spent much of our time in Nogales at the wall. We’d seen a lot of pictures of it, but there’s
nothing like being there. Looking into Mexico from our position. I mean our position: white,
privileged gringo Americanos. This is where our play begins: at the wall.
ACTOR
Keep in mind that the U.S.-Mexico border is 1,952 miles from the Pacific Ocean to the Gulf of
Mexico. Each one of these miles means very different things depending on which side you’re
standing.
ACTOR
From America, you see Nogales, Sonora, a border town, it’s certainly not the romantic vision
one has of Mexico. From the other side, you see the promise land. You see hope, a way to
provide for your family.
ACTOR
1848.
ACTORS
1848.
ACTOR
The Treaty of Guadelupe Hidalgo. The border was established. Over 300,000 Mexican nationals
were left in the U.S. It wasn’t so much a border as borderlands. People came and went.
ACTOR
The border became the border that we know because of three events: 1964 …
ACTORS
1964.
ACTOR
… the end of the Bracero Program that allowed Mexicans to work in the U.S.
1971 …
ACTORS
1971.
ACTOR
… Nixon declares the “War on Drugs.” And September 11, 2001 …
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ACTORS
September 11, 2001.
ACTOR
… the worldwide security shift.
ACTOR
The primary fence averages 18 to 21 feet high, delves 6 feet into the ground and is built in a 3foot wide trench. President George W. Bush signed The Secure Fence Act of 2006 which calls
for some 700 miles. On average, it costs 3.9 million dollars per mile. 190 miles have been
completed so far.
ACTOR
The psychology is something like this: bad people are coming in, put up a wall up to keep them
out. If you ask anyone, anyone without an agenda, the fence is a failure. Okay, so given the right
circumstances, a barrier can – in theory – work. But stopping someone that needs to get over?
Not going to happen. Listen: the fence is the epitome of government waste and fiscal
mismanagement. After a decade of mistakes, we still don’t get it.
ACTOR
One billion dollars. Think about what you could buy for a billion. A billion. DHS spent five
years and a billion dollars to build this invisible electronic border fence that never worked. It’s
enough to make anyone go Thoreau and become a contentious objector.
ACTOR
You need to understand that the Sonoran desert might be considered more of a deterrent than this
visible metaphor that is the fence, but you also need to know that when someone is determined,
nothing can stand in the way of that determination. Nothing at all can stand in the way of that
determination.
ACTOR
Since 1998, over 6000 migrant deaths occurred along the U.S.-Mexico Border. These men,
women and children encounter more than just a wall when they cross into the U.S. They are
faced with relentless heat, bitter cold and unforgiving terrain.
ACTOR
The wall really manifests as a symbol for the problems we have.
ACTOR
It took one act of terrorism for us to even realize we have borders that need to be protected.
ACTOR
There have been more agents killed in the line of duty than any other federal law enforcement
agency in the United States: 120. The wilderness is vast and the people on patrol become targets.
The men and women BPA work with are some of the strongest people working for our country.
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Mentally, physically, they experience things that the public has no idea about. It’s a tragedy that
they are constantly working on. They constantly adapt and change.
ACTOR
Most of these people cross to find work. People say that the Mexican economy is struggling, but
there is no economy. The cartels run everything. The government, every industry is corrupt. Any
person who does not want to be a part of that violence has to find real work in the United States.
The problem is that both choices are illegal. Either way, you are either the enemy of the cartel or
the enemy of the border patrol.
ACTOR
Millions of pounds of marijuana alone are detected at the border every year. This does not
account for the millions of pounds of illicit substances that go undetected. We are battling a
billion dollar industry with more resources than a small government. The 700 miles of border
fence only contain a fraction of illegal immigration and smuggling. BPA knows a maximum of
ten percent of marijuana being smuggled into the U.S. is actually intercepted.
ACTOR
Is the fence doing its job? What is its job? Well, it’s not to stop people. It is meant to slow them
down. So in San Diego, where response time can be less than two minutes, yes. In the places
with washed out roads or insufficient agents, what’s the point?
ACTOR
It’s theatre. The fence. It’s photo ops for the media. So John McCain or DHS can get their photos
taken in front of it to assure everyone we’re secure. You go just a few miles out of Nogales, and
the pedestrian fence abruptly stops and there’s this older fencing that anyone can just crawl
under or over.
ACTOR
It’s all a wall. It’s all a wall. Fortification, apprehension, detention, prosecution and deportation.
Money. Politics. If you have the ability to get here, then we have work for you. But if you get
caught, there’s a massive system put in place where you go to trial and get thrown in a for-profit
prison. So who wins? It’s one big futile wall.
The ensemble begins to disperse.
ACTOR
Two things happened within a week of one another. The first incident was that Border Patrol
Agent Nicholas Ivie was killed on October 2, 2012. His death is shrouded in mystery: either it
was a case of friendly fire or people who wanted him out of the way killed Nick. Nick’s brother,
Joel Ivie, also and still a border patrol agent:
JOEL IVIE
I had been listening to radio communications that night. There was a tripped ground sensor in
this remote part of Mule Mountains where there’s a lot of human and drug smuggling. It was still
dark, early in the morning. He was on his own. And as two people approached he opened fire
7
and they shot back. It was fast. DHS says it was friendly fire, that he fired on two agents coming
from the other side of the mountain. (Pause.) Nicholas was the baby of the family. When Nick
was 19, he served a two-year mission in Mexico City for the Mormon Church. He learned
Spanish before he went, got much better when he was there and developed a great love for the
Mexican people. He told me about this time when he encountered a pregnant woman who had
been traveling with a small group in the desert. She lost her shoes. Her feet were cut up real bad
and she just had them wrapped in rags, and she was in a pretty remote area and couldn't make it
any farther, and he carried that woman a mile and a half to where she could receive the proper
help that she needed. He really did love the people that he worked with. He read a princess story
every night after work to his daughters, Raigan and Presley. He used to tell his girls to “cowboy
up.” All the time. “Cowboy up.” (Pause.) He was real dedicated. He joined the border patrol to
serve his nation. He loved it. Lived a life of charity. He was a hero.
ACTOR
Of course, Border Patrol was on a higher state of alert at the time when another incident occurred
just over a week later on October 10, 2012 when Jose Antonio Elena Roderiguez was shot to
death by Border Patrol Agents. This too is a life taken that is shrouded in mystery. From where
we’re at standing at the wall in Nogales, we can see the bullet holes that are left. Here is Jose’s
brother, Diego:
(Young man stands alone in front of the audience, clutching a framed picture and a
rosary to his chest.)
DIEGO
The following is translated into Spanish and projected onto the screen.
My brother, Jose Antonio Elena Roderiguez, was shot ten times and killed as he walked along a
street adjacent to the border in Nogales, Mexico. It was late. October 10th, 2012. 11:30. I was
finishing up at the convenience store, where I worked for months. He was coming to see me at
work, and help me finish up for the night. That was something that Jose Antonio did often. He
was a real good kid, he liked to help. He was smart too. He read a lot, did his work at school. His
death happened by the corner of Internacional and Ingenieros. The bullet holes are still there. No
one will say what happened. There’s a video of everything that the U.S. Government won’t
release. They won’t tell us the names of the men who shot Jose Antonio. One story is that Border
Patrol say they were getting assaulted by rocks. They may or may not have warned the rock
throwers before they opened fire. One rock allegedly hit a patrol dog. Do I think Jose Antonio
was throwing rocks at Border Patrol Agents? There’s no way. You know how you know your
family? The other story says agents were trying to catch a couple of drug-running suspects and
they opened fire after rocks started flying over the fence. Do you know how frustrating that is?
To not know? All I know is that the unnamed border patrol agents first shot him twice in the
head, and then eight more times in the back, as he lay on the ground. They were brave enough to
shoot him. They should be brave enough to admit what they did. Our family wants justice, you
know?
(A man in a lab coat walks onstage with a clipboard, which he reads from.)
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MEDICAL EXAMINER
The following is translated into Spanish and projected onto the screen.
Direct cause of death: Head injury caused by projectile fired with gun fire. Based on what was
observed at necropsy, it is stated that most of the injuries are from bottom to top from right to left
and back to front.
ELENA
It was my child. Our family is broken.
ETHAN
Along the way, we did a series of interviews. We approached people from Flagstaff to Nogales
and asked if we could ask them questions about immigration and the border. Mostly we got
something responses such as:
ACTOR
No.
ACTOR
Nope.
ACTOR
No thank you.
ETHAN
Or they would just walk by us, ignoring us. We heard a lot of this:
ACTOR
Two things. First: They shouldn’t be working here. Second: They should learn our language.
ETHAN
And then there were the people who wanted to talk. Jim is a security guard in Downtown
Phoenix. Hi, my name is Ethan. I am working on a play about the U.S.-Mexico border. Can I ask
you a few questions?
JIM
If it doesn’t take long and you don’t use my name.
ETHAN
It won’t take long. Can I use just your first name?
JIM
(Pause.) Call me Jim.
ETHAN
What do you believe a person needs to survive, Jim?
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JIM
Well food, water, air. You know, the essentials. And hope. I think a person needs hope to
survive.
ETHAN
What makes you say that?
JIM
My sister died when I was a kid. She slipped running around our pool and fell in. She drowned.
My mother didn’t leave her room for a month. I can remember that the food in our fridge rotted.
It wasn’t even that old it just, fell apart. It was like there was a cloud over our house blocking the
sunlight. Keeping us in the cold. When she finally came out she didn’t speak much. She smelled
I remember that. She smelled like shit. Not just bad, but like literal shit, like she had been rolling
around in it. There was a...lifelessness to her. Her eyes were dark. Her mouth was shrunken. We
need hope to live, because without it we don’t want to.
ETHAN
And is there hope out there?
JIM
Out there? (chuckles) Fuck no. Out there there’s nothing but sand. You want hope? You want
satisfaction? You want Jesus to come down on a cloud and tell you the fight is over? You stay in
fucking Mexico.
ETHAN
So you don’t think they make it?
JIM
Of course they make it, you know why? We let ‘em. Yeah that’s right. We put the walls up and
the towers up and the big men with guns but not everywhere. We funnel them in, right into the
jaws of hell itself. And they walk. And sure sometimes they fight off everything. Heat and thirst
and fucking blisters the size of my fist and they wriggle on into the promise land on their bellies.
Like snakes. And then I can go home and give ‘em a dime to clean my toilet. They make it sure,
but they don’t win. They never win.
ETHAN
And what about the people that don’t make it? That die out there?
JIM
If I’m hungry, and I look over and spy my favorite type of pie coolin’ on your windowsill next
door. Can I just stroll on over. Can I open the door and mix our fingerprints on the knob? Can I
leave my boots on and track mud on your carpet? Can I take the goddamn pie and eat it? Stick
my damn fingers in it? Most men would rather I just go hungry.
ETHAN
It sounds like you think it’s an invasion.
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JIM
You’re damn right it’s an invasion. Sure now they just make our food and build our houses for
next to nothing. But what happens when they want more? What happens when there’s more of
them then there are of us? I’ll tell you what happens. The food starts tasting funny. The houses
start caving in. The honest white men who build this goddamn country start dying. You wanna
know what happens when Pablo and Pepe get tired of cleaning up shit? We get a fucking
wetback revolución.
A movement piece happens while VALENCIA speaks.
VALENCIA
The following is translated into Spanish and project onto the screen.
First: Familismo.
ACTOR
Valencia Juarez lives in Nogales, Sonora.
VALENCIA
My grandmother died in December ten years ago. We have gathered at her home every year
since. Since then, we practice cabo de ano: a ceremony performed on the anniversary of her
death. In the evening, there is mass. We pray, we sing. God is with us. There is great sadness. In
the daytime, we celebrate at her home. A party with many people, it is hard to count. For me, the
best part is cooking in her kitchen. All the men arrive at dawn to kill the pig, a huge pig, that has
been fed all year for this purpose. The pig is cooked as carnitas and chicharrones and stew. After
that, all the women and some of the men come together to make the mina dish for dinner:
Tamales. Everyone works together for the “Tamalada,” and you hear stories about your ancestors
and funny stories and scary ones too. Cooking the filling, preparing the corn masa dough,
assembling the tamales. They taste so delicious because they are made with stories of la familia.
Then we march to la frontera and hand them to our family in the United States of America.
KEN
I was addicted to the hunt.
ACTOR
Ken Lowell, U.S. Army veteran and current Border Patrol Agent.
KEN
Like a lot of young men of my generation, I was defined and shaped by war. I saw the mouth of
the beast in Afghanistan. Carnage, blood-soaked battlefields. I have a necklace made of fabric, a
piece of fabric from each man I killed. I don’t remember every one of them, but I remember clear
as day that first one. His eyes. The knowingness of resignation to his life. It was years of rage,
barbarism. War made me appreciate life. So after that, I needed to quench my thirst. I needed the
excitement of the hunt and, yeah, being hunted. So I signed up for the United States Border
Patrol. I don’t care about the regular illegal aliens who cross to feed their families. I want the
dope smugglers, violent fugitives, bandits, homicide suspects, burglars, communists. I went from
the desert back into the desert and it’s perfect for me. When I was in training, I remember I was
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taking a shit by the river I was squatting there and these three illegals who had just crossed the
river walked straight into me. And I’m in the squat position, so I grab my .357 and hike my pants
up best I could and parade the Mexicans over to my trainer. And he said, “Boy, you got a hell of
a career ahead of you.” And I have so far. Nine years of service. The shit I see out there. The
stories I could tell about what happens at that fence and in that desert over nine years. I love my
country. Whatever happens, happens. Whatever happens I keep the oath:
I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies,
foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I will take
this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I
will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office that I am about to enter. So help
me God.
We hear “Rosaura Munoz: ID # 595” (Denise Chavez) along with “5 MIN” (Zeitkratzer
Electronics featuring Carsten Nicolai). The ensemble engages in sequence of movement
that happens behind the poem. And a series of photos. The photomontage is life affirming
and heart breaking.
PEDRO
Me llamo Pedro.
YANETH
I am Yaneth.
BAL
My name is Bal.
LYUDMYLA
Lyudmyla.
SANDRA
Me llamo Sandra.
PEDRO
My name is Pedro. I am from Morales, Mexico. I have two children. I made about $2.00 a day
doing various jobs. It was hard. The hardest. We only would eat corn tortillas and salt. My wife,
Martha, wanted the keep the kids in school no matter what, so she started taking on debt.
Eventually, the debt got to be so much that I couldn’t cover it. So we came. We took out another
loan, $12,000, to cover the cost for the coyote. When we crossed into Arizona, we were spotted
and everyone ran in different directions but I told mi familia, whatever happens we stay together.
We did and hopped on a slow-moving freight train. We got to Phoenix several days later. We
then went by van to Chicago where my sisters and cousins live. We stayed with them and they
got us fake Social Security cards. We work a lot. We work hard paying into Social Security, a
system we will never benefit from. We feel like we’re in glory here.
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YANETH
My name is Yaneth. I am from El Salvador. I have three children. My husband and I both have
education but in El Salvador, our combined salaries didn’t pay for more than one meal a day. My
husband applied for a tourist visa but because we had no assets he was turned down. So we came
illegally. The trip took fifty days. I work for a cleaning team for an apartment complex and send
money back to my children. If I cannot get them into the U.S., I will return to them.
BAL
My name is Bal. I am from the Philippines. I entered the United States on a work visa in 1988. I
was working as a crewman for a shipping company. While here, I was offered a construction job
with a monthly salary that would take me a year to make in the Philippines. In 1995 I married
Shirly who is also form the Philippines. She became a naturalized U.S. citizen in 2007. I have
lived here for over twenty years and paid my taxes. I am desperate to become legal.
LYUDMYLA
My name is Lyudmyla. I came to the United States to be reunited with my husband. He had
come eight years earlier and been granted asylum because we was an ethnic minority in the
Ukraine, so he faced persecution. When I arrived in Chicago, he had changed. He was abusive. I
went to a women’s shelter and soon filed for divorce. I didn’t know that in divorcing him, I lost
my right to apply for a green card. So now I am in legal limbo.
SANDRA
My name is Sandra. When I cam to the United States, I was six. In Mexico, my father would not
let me go to school; I stood on corners to sell oranges. He was a drunkard and abused my mother.
So she brought me here. When we arrived in San Francisco, my uncle – a U.S. citizen – started
the process for us to become legal. It takes many many years. I went to school. And it wasn’t
until my guidance counselor talked about college that I felt the full weight of being
undocumented: even though I excelled in high school, without a Social Security number, I
couldn’t apply for financial aid and there was no way to pay for college.
PEDRO
Me llamo Pedro.
YANETH
I am Yaneth.
BAL
My name is Bal.
LYUDMYLA
Lyudmyla.
SANDRA
Me llamo Sandra.
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ALL
We are five of the twelve million living among you.
The following actors do no act out what is happening to them. Rather, they use the
language and physicality expressively, poetically.
ACTOR 1 (a female)
It’s so cold.
ACTOR 2 (a male)
It’s so hot.
ACTOR 1
I couldn’t keep up with the group. It was grueling. I started vomiting.
ACTOR 2
We lost the trail. Couldn’t stay together. We lost each other. Then it was just my wife and I.
ACTOR 1
I am taking my brother to my mother in Los Angeles.
ACTOR 2
We are going to Maryland to work.
ACTOR 1
Last night it was near freezing. Today it rained. My clothes are wet. The path is slippery and wet.
ACTOR 2
It is a vast inferno. Pitiless. Barely any shade. We can’t walk in the daytime. It’s 115 degrees and
you can’t risk being seen by border patrol.
ACTOR 1
Cacti claw at your skin.
ACTOR 2
Blisters cover your feet.
ACTOR 1
You have to move very fast.
ACTOR 2
Over many days.
ACTOR 1
And I am so cold.
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ACTOR 2
I am so hot.
ACTOR 1
The coyote left me on a platform la migra uses for landing helicopters. He said they would be by
soon. My brother cried and kicked and screamed to stay with me but they carried him away. I
told him, “Tu tienes que seguir a donde esta mama.”
ACTOR 2
I sit down. I tell my wife I can’t go on. She says get up. I can’t. She says I’ll die. I tell her to go
on. She wails. I plead with her to stop. That it is okay. I am ready to die. I tell her …
ACTOR 1
You have to keep going and get to mom.
ACTOR 2
… in Mexico you have death very close. That’s true for all human beings because it’s a part of
life, but in Mexico, death can be found in many things.
ACTOR 1
I can feel hypothermia setting in.
ACTOR 2
I am dehydrated.
ACTOR 1
And I am vomiting and I know that’s bad.
ACTOR 2
And I am vomiting and I know that I am going to die.
ACTOR 1
The wet clothing. The cold air.
ACTOR 2
The sweat. The heat doesn’t stop. There’s no water. That hasn’t been water.
ACTOR 1
I start shivering to create body heat.
ACTOR 2
Then heat exhaustion. My muscles cramp. My heartbeat quickens, my breath is faster. I get
weak. A headache. I feel as though I am going to faint. My body is steering blood from all my
organs to my skin.
ACTOR 1
My body goes below 95 degrees …
15
ACTOR 2
My body is above 105 degrees …
ACTOR 1
Shivering isn’t working. I’m tired. I lose dexterity. I can’t use my hands. My body gets so cold. I
just want to sleep.
ACTOR 2
Heat stroke sets in. My skin is hot to the touch. My heart works hard, 180 beats per minute. My
lungs.
ACTOR 1
My body is now 90 degrees … I am shaking violently. It’s hard to speak. I can’t walk.
ACTOR 2
I am confused. I have no idea where I am.
ACTOR 1
My body is now 88 degrees …. The shivering stops. My muscles are stiff and numb. I’m
confused. I don’t know where I am or what I am doing.
ACTOR 2
My body is overwhelmed down to the tiniest cells; tissue perishes. I start convulsing/.
ACTOR 1
86 degrees I am breathing slow, my pulse is slow. And then erratic and I panic.
ACTOR 2
Organs start to fail and life-sustaining chemical reactions collapse. My eyes dry up. Kidneys shut
down. Moisture is gone. I look shrunken.
ACTOR 1
At 82 degrees, my heart fibrillates, breaks into chaotic contractions.
ACTOR 2
My body’s final throes are frantic. It flails, throwing up sand. And then death.
ACTOR 1
At 78.8 degrees I lose consciousness and very shortly, at 75 degrees, I am dead.
ACTOR 2
It is one of the most terrible deaths that can happen to a human being. It’s a grisly, terrible,
terrible death.
16
ACTOR 1
Listen to these words: It doesn’t take much to get in trouble.
RICKY
With the addition of these two bodies, that makes 133. John Doe. Jane Doe. Migrants are about
half of all my cases. Each one costs the county about $2000: body storage, autopsy, sheriff
photographer, coroner, burial. My job is really twofold: to figure out the cause of death and to
identify the body. Even when the cause of death might seem apparent, I have to give a through
examination. My job is to speak for the dead. The problem is the coyotes tell them to get rid if all
their ID. It’s something like becoming an investigator. Sometimes, it’s a slip of paper. And
others its clothing: a sneaker, maybe or a belt buckle. Fingerprints, sometimes, although Mexico
doesn’t have a centralized database. And there’s 133 that haven’t been identified. Funerals for
John and Jane Doe’s are quick and dirty. They’re buried as they were found: alone, nameless, far
from home. They get a pressed-wood box and their coroner’s case number scrawled on the lid.
And lowered into the ground. Buried. Each one gets a concrete loaf that says either John Doe or
Jane Doe. There but for the Grace of God.
NAFTA-- http://www.fas.org/sgp/crs/row/R42965.pdf -- actors one by one start to talk
about facts and statistics ether pro NAFTA or agent, they start to raise there voices over
each other and speaking at the same time
RICK
A small caliber copper jacketed projectile was in Nick’s brain. Border patrol carries 40caliber
semi automatic handguns. 12-gauge shotguns, and AR-15 rifles. They don’t carry small caliber
weapons. There were Mexican pesos, water bottles and evidence of drugs that were in transport
found near his body, which says that he may have taken someone into custody prior to the
shooting and, per protocol, required them to empty their pockets. The female agent says she saw
three or four silhouettes speaking in Spanish. So how do we know what happened? Why don’t
we know? (Pause.) We want the American people to remember our brother. Nick was a humble
man who was always faithful to God, family, and country. Our family has always and continues
to support Border Patrol. We are focused on Christy and the kids. We are not angry. We simply
want to know what happened that night and if anything is being covered up and why.
Along the iron bars of the border fence, protesters gather against the accumulation of deaths
cause by border patrol agents. In their hands are white daisies, candles, and wooden crosses.
The sound is chaos as a course of voices, side conversations pertaining to Jose, religion, and
the grim presence of border patrol dominate the dialogue. One voice becomes clearer, a
woman stands separately from them, speaking loudly, with authority. The lights focus on her.
Slowly the crowd begins to listen.
ISABEL GARCIA
I’ll tell you what’s wrong, they’re investigating each other. And the fact that they’re treating it as
a investigation, as an assault on a federal officer. The use of force policies with this border patrol
is out of control! You don’t find any other police agencies that, as bad as they can be across the
country, can do and get away with what their work force does. It’s really amazing. It has been
documented the bravado, the meanness, the cruelty, that is exhibited out on the field. and yet
17
when they kill somebody, they say “Oh, I was scared!” We know it is an impossibility, their
stories are an impossibility. And look what happened before. they shot at each other and for three
days they didn’t listen, they didn’t know it was friendly fire. They shot themselves. We have an
agency that is out of control. And this is the result, a grieving mother, a family, a community,
that are tired of impunity, we have seen the Chicanos killed along this border with impunity for
too long. This is an international incident on top of a homicide. The grotesque, barbaric actions
that take place in these lands are hidden. According to one family their son’s arms were almost
torn off. We are not hearing of this in the US. They’re investigating each other. That’s not right. I
hope we can get a truly independent investigation. Not an investigation by the agents who work
with each other. There’s conflicts of interest here that have to be acknowledged. Because I can
see the result. I know there has to be a video, where is the video? This entire border here is video
taped. Where is the videotape?
Then: A young child’s bedroom, night. A father enters the room and sits down at the edge
of a bed by the child.
MAN
You get to sleep, it’s already past your bedtime.
CHILD
Wait, can I ask you a question?
MAN
Ok. One question. Only one.
CHILD
Who first made tortillas: the cowboys or the Indians?
MAN
(chuckling) You've asked this nearly a hundred times now. Neither.
CHILD
Then who?
MAN
Well, it was the crows. The crows used to go out in the fields and eat all the corn. One day, they
got sick of eating ears of corn so they made them into tortillas.
CHILD
Daddy!
MAN
Hey! (lovingly embraces his son)
CHILD
Hey dad. You’re always tired when you come home.
18
MAN
Yeah. I’m working hard.
CHILD
It’s hard fighting bad guys huh.
MAN
Haha, though you know. I’m not Superman.
CHILD
Yeah you are! You get rid off all the bad people! Mom says that’s what you do you protect all
the people in the country from bad guys.
MAN
Is that what she says?
CHILD
But why are they bad guys dad? What would they do if they wanted to hurt us?
MAN
(The man sits in silence for a moment as he contemplates what to tell his son.)
Well, uh- now that’s uh. That is something that you will understand when you’re older. I can’t
explain it to you nowCHILD
Why not? What would they do?
MAN
Everybody has a home, a place that they belong to, you see. And some people feel the need to
break into other people’s homes, their land and make it their own. People have been doing it all
throughout history, but today it doesn’t work that way. You can’t just come into a place and say
it’s yours if it doesn’t belong to you. Not with the military or the police around, they have to
protect us from people who are trying to steal our livelihoods away from us.
CHILD
Okay… Do you kill them?
MAN
We send them back where they came from.
CHILD
Okay. That’s good. But why do they want to come here? Why do people have to steal?
MAN
Because they don’t live as nice as we do, and they don’t know how to make their own countrytheir homes better for them and their families.
19
CHILD
Okay… I get it but I also don’t get it. I don’t know why mommy always calls them bad guys…
Stealing is bad but, Mrs. Williams always says sharing is caring. I want to be old enough to go to
work with you. I want to know what bad people look like.
(Radio broadcast is heard over a silent scene depicting an arrest in the desert/or a
journey through the desert. The voices become muffled and morphed as the scene goes
on.)
RADIO VOICE 1
But, we didn’t start the fire
RADIO VOICE 2
Not only did we start the fire, but we are the only ones who can start to put it out.
RADIO VOICE 1
We are in no place to reach out to others, only to help ourselves.
RADIO VOICE 2
Let go of control. Stop trying to find control or be controlled. Send every reminisce of any idea
of control out into the universe, and the universe becomes everything you want it to be. You find
you have a relationship with the universe and everything in it, and you can’t control it just as it
can’t control you. You find this, sitting under the stars and possibly loving every one of them,
and your heart rate slows. Another heart rate is slowing down and it matches yours, and here you
are, in tune with this heart. And you choose to ignore the messages it sends to you because the
responsibility of its arrhythmia is too heavy for you.
RADIO VOICE 1
How can we interact with those who refuse or are unable to connect with us? Does “letting go of
control” become a limitation itself? How much thought does this all take?
RADIO VOICE 2
Simplify.
RADIO VOICE 1
Of course. It’s simple then, just simplify RADIO VOICE 2
Them and us; the innate separation of physical forms has had the tragic consequence of deluding
our understanding of survival. Competition versus Compassion. Simple
JOHN DOE
There was a cold dampness that never seemed to leave my skin. It had been days since the patrol
agent found me. Days of seeing jaws moving, tongues flicking, creating sounds that I couldn’t
follow. The rooms were white and sterile of all life. The spirit of the desert and all of its pain was
20
gone, replaced by sharp needles and clear tubes. Big men with black guns stood outside the
room. Watching as if I had killed someone, when really it had been them. The ghost of my
daughter still lingered in my arms, dipping them in the lead of my guilt. I thought of my wife,
Nina, and the new baby. My eyes stung and my head hurt every time I tried to explain to an
imaginary Nina, of what had happened to her man… to her child. The hours moved on and over
time I embraced the white as a state of limbo. God had not yet decided whether to punish me for
my absolute failures or to release me back into the hardships of existence.
(Blank stage. A woman and a child enter. They run across the stage in slow motion as
they run the drop all of their possessions on the stage. Once they reach the middle of the
stage they collapse. Then another family runs, then another and another. Each family
drops their things as they run and falls in a heap in the middle of the stage. Families
enter from both sides. The pile of bodies gets bigger and bigger until it begins to
resemble a wall. The Virgin Mary personified as a giant puppet swings back and forth
over the wall of bodies. She sings loudly. A family of four runs and the father climbs over
the wall of bodies as his family becomes part of it. He makes it to the other side, picks up
a broom, and starts sweeping up the possessions. More men try to climb the wall and
gunshots are heard. they fall off and lie still. The Virgin Mary puppet is swinging back
and forth over all of it, laughing and singing and twitching. The janitor starts to make a
nest downstage of all the swept up possessions. A man in a suit sits in it and slowly
starves and other men in suits come and bury him in the positions. They pull out rifles as
if to do a salute and fire upon the Virgin Mary, who screams, and melts away into
shadow. BLACKOUT.)
Sheriff’s office in Maricopa county Arizona. A woman in uniform sits at the desk when
the phone rings.
SHERIFF
Maricopa county sheriff’s office.
WOMAN
Please help. I need water.
SHERIFF
Where are you? Can you describe the place you’re at?
WOMAN
I don’t know. There are bushes and small hills of rock.
SHERIFF
Do you know which way is north?
WOMAN
No. Please help me.
21
SHERIFF
We will. It’s going to be alright.
WOMAN
I’m going to die.
SHERIFF
No you’re not. I’m sending help right now, I’m sending a helicopter to come get you, alright?
WOMAN
My husband’s name is Miguel, I have two kidsSHERIFF
No ma’am, that is not what I do. I am not going to do that because you are going to survive and
everything will be alright. Do you understand?
MAN
Pause
Yes.
SHERIFF
I know you think you can’t make it, but the helicopter is going to come, you’re going to be given
water and something to eat. I will ask again, do you understand?
MAN
Yes.
Three women are sitting in a semi-circle. They are all looking down, their hands are
folded. Women tell their stories in a scattered fashion i.e. WOMAN 1 stands, tells the first
part of her story, WOMAN 2 stands, WOMAN 1, WOMAN 3, etc.
WOMAN 1
I left my children with my Mother. And then I left with my sister. It was cold. The coyote told
us we had to keep moving if we didn’t want to freeze. It was the first night and I was so tired
already. We had been walking for two days when my sister began to feel shortness of breath, but
the coyote didn’t let us stop. My sister and I fell behind.
WOMAN 2
This was my third time crossing in seven months. The first time, my husband made it to
California, but I was captured and sent back to Nogales. I have tried to get to California to be
with him, but it is hard. I was crossing in the summer. I was in a group of twelve. Nine of us
were women. We were resting in a gully when Border Patrol came. Four were able to escape,
including all the men. The seven women and I were stripped down to our underwear while the
Border Patrol rested in the shade.
22
WOMAN 1
It was cold, but we shared our sweatshirts and rested under a tree. I heard the dogs before she
did. My sister was weak, and couldn’t walk. I tried to carry her away from the sounds of dogs,
but I was weak too, and she was heavy. (pause.) I hid her under a bush and ran away. But the
men saw me, and were faster. When they asked me if I was travelling with anyone, I said I was
alone. That was a month ago. I don’t know what happened to my sister.
WOMAN 3
(She is crying silently, has to take pauses every other sentence to catch her breath.) Both my
children are in Arizona. I was caught because I couldn’t walk anymore, but my children were
being carried and I told them to leave me. They were crying and pleading and I fainted. When I
woke up I was alone. I tried again two weeks later and was caught again, with seven other
people. The Border Patrol were cruel. They spit on the men and called the women names. They
searched under our underwear.
WOMAN 2
They felt us, making sure we had no weapons, but couldn’t they see we didn’t? We had nothing.
One man kept stroking a woman’s hair. She stayed behind with him while the rest of us were
loaded into the back of a truck. They didn’t give us back our clothes until we were in the cell.
WOMAN 3
The men hit us when we tried to protect our bodies with our arms. And then they hit us again.
And then again. I know we are breaking their laws, but I don’t understand why they treat us this
way.
WOMAN 1
My body is broken. My hands never stop shaking now. My children are happy I am home, but
I’m not. I’m still in the desert, fighting. I will try again and again and each time I fail, (woman
slowly stands), I will stand strong on my broken feet and fight with my broken hands and my
broken mouth will scream, I am not afraid, and even though my heart is broken, my broken eyes
will not cry.
(WOMAN 3 stands, WOMAN 2 remains sitting, yet is looking straight ahead. She slowly
looks upwards as WOMAN 3 speaks, her hands becoming fists in her
lap.)
WOMAN 3
I have been praying in the dark. I have been pleading. I have wept. I am still trying to cover my
body with my arms even though it no longer feels sacred and worth protecting. My body no
longer feels worth protecting. Who possesses the right to make a woman feel powerless? The
right to make her feel that her broken, tainted body no longer deserves to be protected. I should
be able to protect my body with my body. I should not feel lifeless, as if the only thing rattling
around inside me are broken, dirty bones. I should not have to fear being defiled by men with
bigger bodies than I. I should not have to be warned of them.
(WOMAN 2 stands, there is a pause before she speaks.)
23
WOMAN 2
I am simply asking. I ask that you tell our stories. I ask that you be kind. I ask that you see us as
undeserving of these cruel acts. If you can do only one thing, please do this. Please do not forget
us.
SAMANTHA
My name is Samantha and I am working on a play about the border. Do you mind if I ask you
some questions?
RUTH
Okay?
SAMANTHA
Ruth is a teacher. She’s a couple years from retirement. What do you know about U.S.-Mexico
relations?
RUTH
Too little. I live in Massachusetts and that’s quite a ways from the border. Our newspapers don’t
really cover any stories. Our son Philip recently returned from a trip to Miami and he did
mention that he saw many very rich and well-dressed Mexican travelers boarding planes headed
for Mexico. We suspect that these travelers are far removed from the Mexicans who are crossing
the border into Texas and Arizona.
SAMANTHA
Who do you think those people are?
RUTH
I assume they’re poor people looking to improve their economic conditions. I wish them well. I
think they are looking for the work that U.S. citizens don’t want to do. I’d like to see the border
agents open the border to allow perfectly free travel for all those who are interested and can find
good jobs here. But for now they need to obey the laws.
SAMANTHA
Many don’t have a choice.
RUTH
(Laughs) Now that’s just silly talk. You always have a choice. Why my parents weren’t born
here. They had to come across on the boats just like everybody else. They didn’t have family
here, they didn’t speak English, and my family grew here just fine. And we did it without
breaking a single law. I think if the good Lord wants them to come, they will come.
Then:
ARECELI RODERIGUEZ
When Border Patrol agents shot my son, Jose Antonio Elena Roderiguez, they let the world
know that they are out of control. They’ve taken a piece of my heart. It’s where they buried him.
24
No one is going to return my son to me. No one can give me back the hugs I gave him, the
kisses, his voice or his smile. I want a response. To get an answer from the US government. To
get an answer from the Mexican government. It’s been a year-and-a-half and I want someone to
talk to me. To tell me what happened. You cannot assassinate my son and not speak to me. I
would like to see justice, that’s what I want to see. What I want to see are the people responsible
in front of the court and judge. I want to see justice. I have no other weapon than my voice and I
am going to use it until something gets done.
(A Caucasian woman of about thirty is trudging through the desert, holding a plastic
bag- collecting random items strewn across the desert. She has a small radio hooked up
to her belt.)
RADIO
“...Mexican drug lords coming into the U.S…”
WOMAN
(Picks up a backpack and digs out remaining contents, empty water bottles, a toilet paper roll.)
You know, I dread the days when I find a child’s shoe, or a tattered family photo. I pick them up,
and I take them back to camp, but I still dread finding them. They serve as a constant reminder of
the perils so many migrants face, just trying to make a better life for themselves.
(She shakes her head, and continues to walk, scanning the ground for trash or
“artifacts”. She soon comes across a small pink backpack - mud stained. The RADIO
continues in the background, with certain lines emphasized.)
RADIO
“...I’m telling you, Senator Davidson, the only immigrants we’ve got coming up from Mexico
are criminals and rapists…”
WOMAN
(examining the backpack) Sure, there are some drug runners and criminals that pass through this
desert - but there are also so many honest men and women and children - just trying to make a
better life for themselves and their families. I’d like to take Senator Davidson and all the rest out
here and show them something like this (she holds up the backpack) or maybe some of the
children’s shoes, and ask them how they think these things got here. Because I’m pretty sure that
criminals and rapists don’t carry tiny pink backpacks with Hello Kitty stickers. But 6-year-old
girls do. (Comes across a pile of unidentifiable bones, could be the bones of an animal or small
child) Bones. These, I would guess are simply the leftovers of an unfortunate animal, died from
dehydration. But I’ve come across piles like these, only in some piles you’ll find fingers. even
teeth, human teeth. It’s a hideous thing to have to witness. I even once found a hand- all the
bones still intact, clutching a rosary. (Long moment of silence.) Skeletons are strange- just to
think that they live inside all of us. It’s funny I mean- we’ve all got the same thing just beneath
our skin. The bones of a six-year-old girl, the bones of a drug lord, the bones of a border patrol
agent. Inside our ribcage, even more similar yet, a heart and lungs. The deeper we go, the more
similarities there are.
25
RADIO
These illegals…
WOMAN
These people…
RADIO
They act as a sort or parasite…
WOMAN
Trying to keep their families alive…
RADIO
...they come here to take our jobs, to rape our women, to take our livelihoods...
WOMAN
And all they ask is that we share… (she says this as she picks up a baby toy such as a rattle from
the ground)
RADIO
“Really what it is it’s a battle between us and them. It’s us and them Senator…”
KELLY
(Takes off headphones)
What?
DYLAN
I asked if you had any thoughts about the situation with the border.
KELLY
What border?
DYLAN
The US border with Mexico.
KELLY
What about it?
DYLAN
Many people are very concerned with the annual death toll associated with it.
KELLY
Oh yeah no I did see that! Like three border patrol dudes got beat to death or something by
illegal aliens. Why aren’t we like, doing anything about that? Can you imagine what it must be
like to have your life threatened like that constantly? People wanting to off you because they
need to get their shit from here to there and you’re in the way.
26
CASSIDY
Hey there.
SCOTT
What’s happenin?
CASSIDY
My name is Cassidy and I am writing a play about migrations and the border. Do you know
where Mexico is?
SCOTT
That’s next to France right?
CASSIDY
No that’s Spain. Mexico is next to Texas.
SCOTT
Oh so it touches America.
CASSIDY
Yes. but there’s a problem with that. See a lot of people try to come into America from Mexico.
SCOTT
Why?
CASSIDY
Because America is a place of economic opportunity.
SCOTT
What?
CASSIDY
Well, your mom has a job right?
SCOTT
Yeah.
CASSIDY
And your dad has a job.
SCOTT
Yeah.
27
CASSIDY
Well the economy is complicated in Mexico, and so being poor means going without a lot more
than it does here.
SCOTT
Why don’t they make more jobs?
CASSIDY
It’s not that simple. So people from Mexico walk across the desert to try and get into America.
SCOTT
Why?
CASSIDY
So they can open up opportunities and maybe even get jobs.
SCOTT
Wait wait wait. Mexico is where Nacho Libre lives right?
CASSIDY
Yes. Mexico is where Nacho Libre lives. Where do you get your news from? How do you know
about the world you live in?
SCOTT
I don’t listen to the news. Shit’s whack, yo.
ELOISA
Well, DHS wanted to put the fence on my land and I said absolutely not. This is ancestral land.
Three acres.
ACTOR
Eloisa Tamez is one of the last Spanish land grant heirs, some 12,000 acres given to her family in
1767 and affirmed by Mexico in 1833. She served in and retired from the U.S. Army’s Nursing
Corps. Today, she is a Ph.D. and is a professor at the University of Texas in Brownsville.
ELOISA
And they started calling me at home, at work, in the evenings on the weekends. Their pressure
just kept increasing. I wanted to know why. They had such a complete lack of respect for me;
they wanted time to sign all these papers and give up my land on a phone conversation. So on
one of the phone calls, I told DHS to bring members from their agencies to come to my house. I
sat them at my kitchen table and told them I refuse to sign a waiver giving up my land. They
were thinking they could take advantage of people like myself because I don’t have the means to
fight the government in court. Six months later, I filed a class-action lawsuit against Chertoff for
trying to confiscate my land. And the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers sued me for refusing
Border Patrol access to survey my land. And after a year of being in and out of court, they won.
They got one-quarter of an acre and now the fence cuts my property in two. To get to the south
28
end of my property I have to go through a gap in the fence that’s 1200 feet away and on my
neighbor’s property. When I go, it takes Border Patrol a matter of minutes to approach me and
when they do, I say I am Dr. Eloisa G. Tamez, I own this property, and I’m going to be here as
long as I want to. I feel like my own country is punishing me. Who do they think we are? We’ve
been living here for generations. I don’t have a weapon. I don’t own any weapons. But I do have
one thing that I’m going to continue to use – my voice. They can take my land, they can build a
wall across it, but they can never take my voice.
JOHN
Well, the fence stops about three hundred feet – you know, just a football field - from my ranch.
ACTOR
John Dugan, cattle rancher.
JOHN
So I had to buy a gun because I had so many of them coming through my property. Out here in
the desert, animals got their venom, cacti go their needles, and men got their guns. Yeah, I’m
afraid because they’re afraid. One of them storms onto my land and turns out to be dangerous,
what then? There are drug-cartel members who are crossing. My wife and children? I’m about
this close to a thief to a shooting or a kidnapping. Listen: I got a job to do, cattle to look after, but
now I can either wait here or risk it out there, but the government doesn’t give a rat’s ass. Now
they want to put up some camera tower or some bullshit. On my property no less. I just got a job
to do. You know? Earning a living? My family’s been here generations and this all could turn
into a horror story real quick.
MIKE
Well, I’ve been thinking a lot about rejection lately.
ACTOR
Mike Vicors, farmer.
MIKE
And just how the world is out to reject you. Your kids. Your wife. Your government. Sometimes
I feel like it’s even the cattle are out to get me. It’s all there to flip you the proverbial middle
finger and let you know how small and insignificant you are. Isn’t that how we work? Last night
I was playing cribbage with Jill and the boys. We play every Wednesday night. And Pete and
Jack ended up winning and for whatever reason Pete just launched into this celebration where he
was getting in my face about winning and how I was a loser. So I smacked him. Only time I’ve
ever raised a hand to our boys. Except for when they needed spanked when they were kids,
y’know. I just wanted him to know that what he was doing was wrong. Not okay. But now that I
look back it was me. I felt like I was getting slapped in the face. Yeah, I feel ashamed. Then I go
to God. He accepts me. Loves me. A hundred percent of the time. In spite of my sinful nature.
And when I just think about the way man interacts with me to the way God loves me, well then
everything is good. I am forgiven. Yeah. I am forgiven. For me, I have only faith. Every
moment, every day, the Lord is with me.
29
JAZMIN
Says this too in Spanish.
I go to God. He accepts me. Loves me. A hundred percent of the time. In spite of my sinful
nature. And when I just think about the way man interacts with me to the way God loves me,
well then everything is good. I am forgiven. Yeah. I am forgiven. For me, I have only faith.
Every moment, every day, the Lord is with me.
1
They come through my checkpoint station every day, six days a week, for the past fifteen years. I
know many of them by name.
2
I keep my mother’s advice to myself. Before crossing the border, in a bathroom stall, I sprinkle
gelatin on my underwear.
3
I wait for the cool of night. Three days in the desert and I’m still too close to Mexico, still so far
from God.
1
I examine everything. Papers. Lunch boxes. Briefcases. Purses. The one’s I don’t know that
come through are suspect. They drive me … I am close to madness.
2
We slip through the fence like mice and wait in a park. Every hour, vans arrive and we pack in,
drive towards families, towards jobs.
3
My lips are so dry. I flip a peso. Heads: I continue. Tails, I walk toward the highway, thumb my
way back to Nogales.
1
I’m close to madness. How many of them are trying to smuggle contraband? Prescription or
illegal. I inspect everything. Looking. Searching for what I know is there. They are trying to get
something through.
2
Sweat soaks our clothes, salts our skin. We stop on an isolated road. Bandits come down from
the trees. The men are face down in the ravine. We women are ordered to undress at gunpoint.
3
The peso disappears into a nest. I catch a cascabel and strip off its meat. I bury its forked tongue:
for one night my name won’t flower in the devil’s throat.
30
1
I’m pushed to the edge. Jorge comes through with his bike again. I inspect it. Check inside the
hollow pipes, slice open the tires, but nothing. Jorge remains calm. Doesn’t say a damn thing.
2
I unbuckle my belt, lower my jeans. Sweat, gelatin powder had stained my underwear a reddish
brown.
3
The arms of the saguaros strike down the hours but the sun refuses to set.
1
I swallow my pride, and swore, if Jorge tells me the truth, I will keep my lips tight. The bastard
smiles, and casually replied: I smuggle bikes.
2
I was one of ten women. Our mouths are taped. I am spit on. I am slapped. The other women are
raped.
3
I shit behind a cluster of nopales and shout out to the everything that is the desert my favorite
joke: No tengo papeles.
ACTOR
What defines being an American from the U.S.A.?
ACTOR
Someone born in this country or someone who has completed the legal process to become a U.S.
citizen.
ACTOR
The American Dream.
ACTOR
All that we are now, not what we were.
ACTOR
It’s a pejorative term: a narrow-minded, gun-loving, other-hating group of individuals who’d
rather not look at issues that are too complex or that might cause us to question our beliefs.
ACTOR
Someone who lives in America and values its inherent ideals, namely those of individual liberty
and rights.
31
ACTOR
Depends on where you are, which way you are walking, how much property and political
currency you control, whether you can set the terms of its definition and how many people you
can influence to agree with you as well as how valuable you are perceived to be to such people
as determined by the label they stick on you.
ACTOR
The term American is an aesthetic. It’s an idea. It’s more complicated and interesting if seen
from a lens outside of the Anglo-American hegemony. But too much the term is used to sell the
brand of this country which is a gross overstatement of our greatness. We’ve never managed to
truly live and demonstrate what this brand promises.
ACTORS
Honestly, I have no idea.
ACTOR
A white-middle aged person with certain exclusionist beliefs.
ACTOR
Someone that lives in and identifies with the spirit of the United States of America.
ACTOR
A group of general good-hearted but oftentimes narrow-minded immigrants that live mainly
between what is known as Canada and South America for long enough to carry an American
passport.
ACTOR
A label for the government to classify people with.
ACTOR
One who believes all human beings deserve and have the right to be free.
ACTOR
Questioning authority. Standing up for the oppressed. Welcoming and comforting those who are
in need. Acceptance. Going big. Dreaming big. Justifying our past wrongs. World police.
Interstate highways. Rule of law. Assholes, anarchists, liberals, conservatives, hawks, doves, teapartiers, environmentalists, NRA, a free press. The First Amendment. John Wayne. John F.
Kennedy.
ACTOR
What will American mean in twenty years? Will it be a relevant term? Will it need redefined?
Will English be in the dominant language? Does that scare you? Or excite you because it is that
which makes America America.
ACTOR
And what do you think of when you hear the word immigrant or migrant?
32
ACTOR
Ellis Island.
ACTOR
People coming from somewhere else.
ACTOR
Used to be what made America great – The Great Melting Pot. Now, it’s taken on a negative
connotation. Immigrant is similar to terrorist, someone who’s suspect just by virtue of their
coming here and hanging on to their old world traditions and beliefs.
ACTOR
Mexico and immigrant have been used in the same sentence for about as long as I’ve been able
to understand what those words mean.
ACTOR
Someone or some other living thing who moves their base of survival for whatever reason.
ACTOR
Multinational corporations are fictional person immigrants from reality ever deeper into
abstraction. Incorporated non-corporeal not-beings that presently run the planet/ Immigrants.
Living real people who are forced to cross physical borders often or largely due to the highly
unethical profiteering by immigrant corporations who prey upon the earth’s resources effectively
leaving them homeless but for hope. Immigrants. “Illegal” immigrants.
ACTOR
Tom Cruise as an Irish pugilist.
ACTOR
Sadly I think of Fox News. And racial profiling. I think of Border Patrol and Immigration offices
and cold-hearted judges. I think of how weird it is that people create imaginary lines across land
and make other people believe those lines are real because they have more gold and guns than
anyone else. And that they can force people to confine to their system of reality.
ACTOR
Myself. My great-great grandfather immigrated from Germany to the Netherlands in 1807. My
parents immigrated to Norway in 1969. I immigrated to the U.S. of A in 2002.
ACTOR
I see someone who is so unhappy or bad off in their own land or country that they are willing to
uproot themselves and potentially never see their family again to try their luck at opportunities in
some other country.
33
ACTOR
The other. The outsiders. Someone who wants what I got. We’re threatened by immigrants. The
Navajo were immigrants to the Hopi lands. That didn’t turn out so well for the Hopi. Still,
initially, they welcomed the Navajos. The Europeans were immigrants into North America. The
Natives welcomed them, sadly. Do we fear immigrants because we know what our immigrant
ancestors did to the people who were here?
ACTOR
An immigrant that is illegally in a country not of their birth and not willing to become legal is
STEALING from those who are either citizens or legal “immigrants.”
ACTOR
Foreigners who don’t speak like Americans.
ACTORS
Someone who is hard working, determined, speaks more than one language, and eager to find a
welcoming home for their family.
(Outside of a small house. Mexico. A small child plays with some toys next to her mother,
who works shaping tortillas or grinding corn.)
CHILD
Mama, when will papa come home?
MAMA
When he can, mi hija. When he can.
CHILD
What is he doing? Que esta haciendo?
MAMA
Trabajando. Working.
CHILD
In America?
MAMA
Si.
CHILD
Why can’t he work here, in the village?
MAMA
There is no work here. No hay trabajo.
(The child plays a while longer, and then turns to her mother again.)
34
CHILD
Why is there no work, mama?
MAMA
Because the big American farms can produce much more comida than we can, mi hija. Los
vendedores do not want to buy our comida, because the American farms can sell it more cheaply
than we can.
CHILD
Entonces, what work does papa do in America? Does he drive a big car? Does he wear a suit?
MAMA
(laughs) Mi hija, papa works on a gringo farm in America. He picks tomatoes and other
vegetables all day long.
CHILD
(confused) Papa cannot work on the farm here, with us, and so he works on a gringo farm, in
America? No entiendo, mama. I do not understand.
(MAMA puts down her work and gestures for the child to come closer. They wrap their
arms around one another, and MAMA strokes the child’s hair.)
MAMA
El mundo es complicado, mi hija. The world is complicated. Your father had to travel a very long
way to get work in America. The Americans put more value on the work in their own country
than the work in our country. They do not understand what their big farms here are doing to us,
los Mexicanos.
CHILD
But, how can they not know? What other reason would papa go there, to America? He loves it
here, con nosotros. With us.
MAMA
Mi hija, don’t blame the silly Americanos. They do not understand Mexico, or our people and
our troubles. They do not understand all that we have to offer them, often times, they do not even
see us as people. They do not understand that todos somos hijos de Dios. We are all children of
God.
(A migrant family sits at one table, holding hands, heads bowed in prayer. An American
family sits holding hands, their heads bowed in prayer. As this happens, the No More
Deaths PowerPoint & statistics are projected over the families.)
AMERICAN MOTHER
Thank you Lord for such a bountiful meal and such a happy family.
35
MEXICAN MOTHER
Gracias Dios, para comida abundante y una familia tan contenta.
AMERICAN MOTHER
Thank you for the many blessings of this home and for keeping Henry safe.
MEXICAN MOTHER
Gracias para los benediciones de esta casa y, por favor, se guarda mi esposo.
AMERICAN MOTHER
Beloved God of compassion and justice, we give thanks for your presence within the beauty of
creation and for the gift of life to experience that wonder.
MEXICAN MOTHER
The following text is translated into Spanish.
Lord, we pray that our government will stop the flood of illegal immigrants into this nation.
These people are risking their lives to flee to America in the hopes of getting to stay. We pray
that each of these people will stop breaking the law and seek to enter this country legally by way
of visas and the immigration process.
AMERICAN MOTHER
We ask for the strength to bring down walls that divide creation and limit the opportunities for so
many of your children while producing riches for just a few. May those who profit from this
division be inspired by Zacchaeus to give their possessions to those in need – to follow the path
of Jesus.
MEXICAN MOTHER
For those who are already here, we pray that efforts will be made to return them home rather
than hold them here. We pray that kindness and compassion will be shown to these people, but
only as we send them home. Please forgive me if this is a selfish prayer. If it is your will for all
this to happen, then please change my heart to reflect your will.
AMERICAN MOTHER
May we see your presence in our sisters and brothers who are risking their lives and crossing
walls in order to provide for their families. Awaken our compassion so that we run ahead to
embrace them and welcome them into our homes in spite of the grumbling of others that call
them “illegal.”
MEXICAN MOTHER
We pray that our government will realize the importance of sealing our borders to keep out
terrorists and drugs. As a nation, many of us can hardly believe what the government has allowed
to happen.
AMERICAN MOTHER
Open our hearts so that we sense your presence shining through all of creation and are inspired to
seek justice for all of your children.
36
MEXICAN MOTHER
Please forgive this nation for our sins of pride, immorality and selfishness.
BOTH MOTHERS
In Jesus’ name, Amen.
ACTOR
How many Mexicans have been killed by Border Patrol Agents in the last five years?
BP
There have been ten deaths as a result of use of force since January 2010.
ACTOR
How many of these deaths occurred in Mexico?
BP
Six.
ACTOR
What follow-up actions, if any, has CBP taken based on these incidents?
BP
CBP is committed to ensuring that the use of force by our agents and officers, who put their lives
on the line every day, is appropriate and consistent with applicable laws, agency standards and
procedures. After a thorough review, CBP has agreed with the spirit and concerns underlying all
of the recommendations issued by the Office of Inspector General as well as the Police
Executive Research Forum, a third-party which CBP commissioned to conduct an independent
review of its use of force policies. In addition to these reports, CBP conducted its own internal
review of its use of force policies. As a result, CBP has begun making enhancements, many of
which are already in effect, to its use of force program and practices, including our policies,
training, and review processes. As implementation of these enhancements continues, CBP will
continue to evaluate the use of force program and practices to ensure the safety of our law
enforcement personnel and the public with whom we interact.
ACTOR
What is the CBP policy on the use of lethal force?
BP
CBP law enforcement personnel are trained to use deadly force in circumstances that pose a
threat to their lives (or serious bodily injury), the lives of their fellow law enforcement partners
and innocent third parties.
(DAVID is older, wears a suit.)
DAVID
We built this wall to, uh, to keep these people out.
37
ACTOR
David works for a golf course in Flagstaff.
DAVID
The United States of America has enough people as it is, we don’t need more unnecessary
clutter. Uh, I understand that where these Mexicans live is not adequate, but the United States
used to be like that, you know, we built this country on trust and hard work, and to have these
people come in, to try and eat the fruits of our labors isn’t right. If they stayed put, maybe they
could find some time to make their country better! And, uh, I don’t want to hear nothing about
how they may boost our working force, us Americans are doing fine as it is. We don’t need no
foreigners taking the jobs of Americans, we have a high enough unemployment rate. I am paying
for my daughter to be in college, I am spending money every day to ensure that she gets a good
education, so she can get a good job and make money for her family. If these Mexicans did the
same thing over in Mexico, they wouldn’t need to come over here to find paying work!
(Movement: wall on stage, one side has unlocked gate? Mexicans climb over walls,
Americans go over/cross through gate, with the two forces acting on it the wall begins to
contort. Deconstruction of wall while the politician proposes wall building? Wall turns
so that it is horizontal and image(s) are projected/heavy breathing? [historical
footage/abstract images/simple images])
ACTOR
Migrants in the United States. Case 1: Raul Gomes Garcia.
ACTOR
Detectives John Bishop and Donald Young were working off duty as security at a baptismal
party in a Hispanic neighborhood in Denver on May 8, 2005. What should have been a joyous
celebration turned grisly. Raul Gomez Garcia shot both officers in the back, wounding Bishop
and killing Young. Gomez Garcia fled the scene and made his way to Mexico. He was arrested
in Mexico one month later. Colorado authorities sought to bring him to Denver for trial, but
Mexico law prohibits extradition if there is a possibility of a sentence of life without parole or
the death penalty. A compromise was reached, and Gomez Garcia was sent to the U.S. that
December. In late 2006 he was sentenced to eighty years in prison.
ACTOR
Case 2: Jose Antonio Gutierrez. .
ACTOR
Jose Antonio Gutierrez, a Guatemalan orphaned as a child, made his way to Los Angeles. He
joined the Marines to help pay for his future university studies and as an expression of thanks to
the U.S. for giving him a chance for a different life. He was killed in Iraq on March 21, 2003, as
one of the first casualties of the war. Guitierrez was granted citizenship posthumously.
ACTOR
Case 3: Swift meat packing plants.
38
ACTOR
On December 12, 2006, US Immigration and Customs Enforcement officials raided Swift meat
packing plants in Colorado, Texas, Iowa, Nebraska, Utah, Kentucky and Minnesota. Their
targets were immigrants who had false documents to obtain employment. Hundreds were taken
into custody, and several were summarily deported. Some decried the lack of due process and the
thoughtless separation of parents from their children; others believed it was about time the
government began to enforce the law.
ACTOR
Case 4: The worst immigrant tragedy in American history.
ACTOR
On a sweltering night in May 2003, over seventy men, women, and children crammed into a
semi-trailer in Harlingen, Texas. They were on their way to a new life, and many looked forward
to reuniting with loved ones who had preceded them to the United States. But soon the semi
became a suffocating inferno. Nineteen died from heat exhaustion and suffocation in what some
call “the worst immigrant tragedy in American history.”
(Scene opens on a clear stage, a lawyer and a line of chained figures stand in the back.
Two figures stand in the center. One is a migrant, chained at the hands and feet, the other
is a judge. Both face the audience, and stand with their hands clasped. The JUDGE
seems very bored throughout the proceeding (sitting on the wall?). The migrant,
DANIEL, starts out answering the questions in a very assertive manner, but gradually
loses confidence and it becomes clear that he isn't very aware of what is actually being
said to him. The pace is fast.)
JUDGE
Are you Daniel Oscar-Hernandez?
DANIEL (MIGRANT)
Sí.
JUDGE
Are you a natural citizen of Honduras?
DANIEL
Sí.
JUDGE
And did you enter the United States on June 10th, 2013, around the area of Nogales?
DANIEL
Sí.
JUDGE
On the day of your entry, did you make application to a U.S official?
39
DANIEL
No.
JUDGE
Are you aware of the charges pressed against you and the maximum punishment that you can
receive?
DANIEL
(Hesitates slightly.)
Sí...?
JUDGE
(Ignores the hesitation.)
And do you understand the rights that you give up by pleading guilty?
DANIEL
Sí...
JUDGE
Are you pleading guilty on your own free will, without the influence of any outside parties?
DANIEL
(Glances back to the LAWYER quickly.)
Sí.
JUDGE
Are you guilty, or not guilty, of crossing the U.S.-Mexico Border at an unauthorized point of
entry?
DANIEL
(Hesitates again.)
Sí?
JUDGE
Mr. Oscar-Hernandez, this is not a yes or no question. I will ask you again, do you plead guilty,
or not guilty, to this crime?
DANIEL
(Looks nervously around stage. Finally:)
Culpable?
JUDGE
The court will note that Daniel Oscar-Hernandez pleads guilty. His sentence, as a second-time
offender, will be 45 days in the State Prison. Next!
(This scene is repeated twice more with individual migrants)
40
(An officer walks on stage and leads a confused-looking DANIEL away. As they walk off,
the line of figures in the back – migrants chained at the hands and feet, shuffle forward,
till they form a semi-circle behind the JUDGE. As the JUDGE continues his questions,
his voice gradually grows louder, as do the MIGRANTS' voices.)
JUDGE
Are you a human being?
ALL MIGRANTS
Sí.
JUDGE
And are you a natural citizen of the Earth?
ALL MIGRANTS
Sí.
JUDGE
And have you been entering the United States for the past hundred years?
ALL MIGRANTS
Sí.
JUDGE
On your date of entry, did you make application to a U.S. Official?
ALL MIGRANTS
No.
JUDGE
Are you aware of the charges pressed against you and the maximum punishment that you can
receive?
ALL MIGRANTS
Sí.
JUDGE
And do you understand the rights that you give up by pleading guilty?
ALL MIGRANTS
Sí.
JUDGE
Are you pleading guilty on your own free will, without the influence of any outside parties?
41
ALL MIGRANTS
Sí.
JUDGE
Are you guilty, or not guilty, of crossing the U.S.-Mexico Border at an unauthorized point of
entry?
(There is a general pause, a breath.)
ALL MIGRANTS
(Very quietly.)
Culpable.
JUDGE
I'm sorry, could you please speak more loudly?
ALL MIGRANTS
(With slight rise in volume.)
Culpable.
JUDGE
(Showing signs of frustration.)
The entire court needs to hear.
ONE MIGRANT
(loudly)
Culpable.
THREE MIGRANTS
Culpable!
SIX MIGRANTS
Culpable!
ALL MIGRANTS
Culpable! Culpable! Culpable!
(The MIGRANTS continue to yell “culpable” and rattle their chains. Occasionally a “sí”
or “no” is heard throughout the din. LIGHT FADES.)
Rep. Wayne Brickenden on the house floor talking of a border wall he designed himself.
BRICKENDEN
I recently visited Arizona …
42
ACTOR
Representative Wayne Brickenden.
BRICKENDEN
…and when I was there I decided that it might be good to go and visit the border. Now I went
down there and I saw it and I realized the solution to this whole debacle, our entire immigration
problem is extremely simple, Mr. Speaker, the solution to this is one almost as old as time itself:
that is, we need, and what I propose to you now, is to build a fence; and on my plane ride back I
designed one myself, which I want to show you all today. Now here I have a model I made a few
days ago so I can … I can illustrate how one such fence could be built. So here you can see this
is the desert floor, oh, and this would not work for every mile of it but it would work for, I would
estimate, about 70-80% of the entire border. Any way, we would start by digging, about a 5-foot
trench; keep the whole thing from tipping over. We could then pour a notch which would …
enable us to pop these pre-cast panels in. Just pop ‘um in like this. This of course would be flush
with the desert floor, so basically, doing it this way, any little construction company, Halliburton
or who ever, could easily build a mile a day, you're just taking a crane and dropping these things
in. This also means we could always open part of this up to let, say livestock, run through here.
Now, Mr. Speaker, we could also take it down the same way. If say, Mexico got their laws and
such working again, we simply take a crane and take them out. Very simple. Now, lastly, I think
we need to do one more thing and that is just put a little wire on top of here. Just to discourage
anyone who might want to climb this fence or put a ladder up to it. We could also electrify that
wire; not with a current that would kill someone but just with one that may simply discourage
someone who might want to fool about with it from either side, we do this with cattle all the
time.
JOEL
The Sunday before he died, Nick stood here, in this pulpit where he led his first LDS service.
The next day, Nick would go to work, but he wouldn't return. The last time I saw Nick, he had
gotten up early to go to the park with his girls and wife. ... He was as perfect a father as you
could be, and that was just how Nick was. In his neighborhood, he was known as the guy who
was always playing with his kids. If Nick were here, he'd say, “Guys, I'm taken care of. Just take
care of my girls, my wife and my family.” Christy, I know that the love he had for you and for
Raigan and Presley will strengthen you in the days ahead. His life has been an example to all of
us. He had the light of Christ in his eyes and His image in his countenance. He’s as close to
Christ as one can become. Sometimes I have to wonder why Nick was taken at this time. But
then I also think Nick was such a great man that he was ready to enter the kingdom of God. We
come to this earth to learn to walk by faith, choose rightly and be tested. I declare that Nicholas
Ivie passed the test of this mortal existence. We are all better people for having known Nick.
Let's keep the tradition going by trying to be a little better each day.
And music, two people perform this as two others perform movement. A call and
response:
Tú eres mi otro yo.
You are my other me.
Si te hago daño a ti,
If I do harm to you,
43
Me hago daño a mi mismo.
I do harm to myself.
Si te amo y respeto,
If I love and respect you,
Me amo y respeto yo.
I love and respect myself.
(Vigil – starts with Jose’s mother, she enters holding a rosary and a candle. Jose’s
picture is projected on the wall, and the number 1. One by one more people enter w/
candles, more faces are projected as the number increases. People enter with signs:
Enough! and Not One More Death. Even when everyone has entered the number
continues to increase, showing the number of deaths and people affected that are
connected to the border.)
CASSANDRA
My name is Cassandra. By the time you are watching this, I will have graduated and gone out
into the world, so to speak. I looked deeply into the issues surrounding the border. Our charge
when we went out was to make both sides human. To humanize the people that are dying. To
make statistics real. The hardest thing, and we sort of knew this when we started, is the futility of
it all. The futility of the border fence, of the politics of immigration. I don’t think anything I saw
was more futile than Operation Streamline. The futility of the walls that we opened this play
with: racism, money, violence. I’m a teenager: when you confront the border what can I do that
will have meaning, that matters? The futility of writing a play. But then, you come across stories
that might have become futile, like Nick’s and Jose’s, and you hope that their stories live on.
That they aren’t unrecognized or become lost in the past. That maybe there will be justice. I
don’t know what we’ve written, I don’t know what we’ve worked so hard on over these months.
I think it so sounds so simple: I just hope that we put more love into the world. More love to all
the people we met along the way and to you and to you and to us and to you. More love.
(“Amazing Grace” is sung. Finally, the numbers reach a final count. The lights fade, but
the candles remain burning. And then, darkness while the song continues, until silence.)
44
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