We Could Make a Statement Against Fear

By ART CULLEN

Julio Barosso is a haunting reminder of how fouled up and absurd our immigration system is.

He is featured prominently in the documentary film “Storm Lake.” Every time that scene appears I have to leave to keep from getting all worked up. It’s hard to forget his story:

Julio was a star student at Storm Lake’s North School at age 8, a teacher’s pet who helped other students learn English. Then one day in 1996 federal agents raided the IBP pork plant. Julio and his family were gone. We never knew what happened to him, until reporter Tom Cullen tracked him down a few years ago in Guadalajara. He has a wife, three children and a truck-driving job that sees him get robbed routinely.

Julio wishes he could live in Storm Lake, and we need Julio.

This is what is so stupid: Rural areas need people and labor. Julio fits the bill. He could make 10 times as much here as he does in Mexico. He’s just a good, hard-working family man with a dream for his children.

But Julio can’t come. He has been deported. To breach the border would make him a criminal. So he languishes.

Barack Obama did nothing about it. Neither did Donald Trump, certainly. Joe Biden hasn’t gotten around to it. Too much politics. Too much fear.

I was thinking about Julio and the intractable immigration issue during a wonderful lunch in Missouri Valley, Iowa, a couple weeks ago with my penpal from Ayotlan, Jalisco, Mexico: Moises Delgado, former secretary to the mayor (sort of like a chief of staff). I made fast friends with him when a delegation from Storm Lake visited Ayotlan 16 years ago. The Storm Lake and Ayotlan councils were ready to form a sister-city relationship, but the matter dropped when the government down there changed parties.

Moises served for seven years in a similar position in Puerta Vallarta, Jalisco, and retired during the pandemic. He is spending a couple months in Lincoln, Neb., with his son Emmanuel and grandchildren. “My wife says I should stay home, but I miss working in the government,” Moises told me over a plate of Jalisco Fajitas at Camp Azure along Hwy. 30 (operated by Jaliscans).

He arrived in Mo Valley as sort of an ambassador for the new mayor, who wants to finally get that sister-city thing done. They’re ready to go.

“We want to feel like Storm Lake is our home,” said Moises through an interpreter, “and we want you to feel that Ayotlan is your home. My house is your house.”

That really is what it boils down to. Moises asked about his amigo, Raymundo Morales — son Tom knows of him. We just featured a new restaurant founded by folks from Ayotlan County, reared in a village called Santa Rita. Santa Rita is to Ayotlan city what Alta is to Storm Lake (six miles away). Denison, another meatpacking town, also is home to a large contingent from Jalisco. The connections are strong, and real.

I tried to explain the complications. We have a different city council. There are security concerns with drug cartels competing for control of entire regions (as there are in Chicago). And there is this fear of immigrants that got insane after 9/11.

Which is precisely why we should ink a sister-city relationship with Ayotlan.

It is time that two isolated rural communities that vitally depend on each other stand up to fear and say that we are friends. That we need each other, just as we need Julio and he needs us.

At least we could sign a piece of paper acknowledging our permanent bond with each other. Work in cultural exchanges as circumstances allow. Show the nation how immigrants are building Storm Lake, and in so doing are helping their families in Ayotlan. We have so much in common. Each of us are crop and meatpacking centers in agricultural states. Pioneer seed signs hung in the bar at Santa Rita. Buena Vista County license plates roll over cobblestone streets. Families go back and forth. They send their young here in hopes of returning to Ayotlan someday. So many end up staying in Storm Lake, but bring their home with them.

Fear should not keep us from what is real and lasting. We could make a statement that breaks through the immigration noise drowning out the dreams of good people like Julio Barosso. At least it would be a start. Just a piece of paper.

Art Cullen won the 2017 Pulitzer Prize for editorial writing as editor of The Storm Lake Times in northwest Iowa (stormlake.com). He is author of the book “Storm Lake: Change, Resilience, and Hope from America’s Heartland.” A documentary film, “Storm Lake,” on the challenges of running a rural biweekly paper during a pandemic, will appear Nov. 15 on the Independent Lens series on PBS. Email times@stormlake.com.

From The Progressive Populist, December 1, 2021

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