Breaking through Barriers

By Marvin Roblero

President, Immigration Law Students Association.

When I first decided to participate in the Immigration Law Student Association (ILSA) Detention Center Project, I thought I had an idea about what I was getting myself into and what to expect from this trip. Even though I knew that I was heading towards a battle zone, I thought that my prior experiences working as a suicide prevention counselor with the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline had prepared me mentally and emotionally to deal with what I was about to see at the Stewart Detention Center in Lumpkin, Georgia. I was wrong.

After our initial training at the Southeast Immigrant Freedom Initiative (SIFI), I was assigned to do a few in-take interviews that same afternoon at the Stewart Detention Center. I was excited and nervous at the same time because I was about to experience what I was hoping to do when I first joined the project. We were told that in order to gain access inside the detention center, we could only bring a pen and any documents needed for the interview. We were told to expect long waits and delay as that was the norm. Lastly, we were reminded to make sure the detainees understood that our visit was only an initial interview, that there were no guarantees that we would be able to represent them, and that they should not stop looking for legal representation because it would take as long as four weeks to get an answer from SIFI. “I got this,” I said. However, little did I know that it was easier said than done.

Once inside the detention center, after waiting for about an hour, going through a metal detector, and having every piece of paper inspected, I was taken to a small room where detainees and visitors are separated by a thick glass pane with an opening big enough to facilitate the delivery of documents but too small to give a handshake. The glass was so thick and the opening so small that it is almost impossible to have a conversation without using the telephones installed on each side. Unfortunately, the cords of the telephones are extremely short, and the telephones are way too far apart from the center of the glass that it is quite impossible to talk and maintain eye contact with the other person. It made the visit somehow depersonalized and I felt that I was unable to show that I was there to help and that I cared.

I believe that small things such as a handshake, leaning forward, nodding, facing the person directly, and maintaining and keeping eye contact are essential tools to have effective communication. These tools would not only make you appear more confident and trustworthy, but they facilitate rapport and validate the other person. Sadly, the way that things are set up in the visitation room makes it impossible to do all these things. I felt as if I was letting them down because I felt I was not able to connect with them in the way I would have preferred.

Finally, after waiting for another forty-five minutes inside the visitation room, I met with the first detainee. My initial reaction was to say hi and ask him how he was doing. Immediately, we both attempted to go for a handshake but ended up waving at each other instead. I guess it is one of those things that you do without thinking, one of those things that differentiated us as human beings. It felt weird not to be able to act “normal” and civilized even though I was there not to interview him but to receive supporting documents for his case. This visit was very short and did not involve much talk; however, it left me with a feeling of emptiness inside. Once he left the room, I had about 20 minutes to finalize my notes and come up with a better plan to achieve rapport in my next interview.

When I met the second detainee, I was already aware of my limitations, so I tried to compensate for the lack of body language with words. I apologized for not being able to give him at least a handshake and for the fact that talking through the telephones was so awkward. He laughed and made a joking comment about it. He then placed his hand on the glass as if we were going to hi-five, to which I followed by placing my hand on the other side of the glass. We both laughed. I felt like a person again.

At that moment I realized that I was restraining myself by my way of thinking, the way I wanted to be perceived and the way I was looking for a solution. Albert Einstein once said, “We are boxed in by the boundary conditions of our thinking.” We must create solutions that break the boundaries of traditional thinking and move forward toward a place of unity and compassion. This detainee taught me that we can show kindness and understanding no matter the circumstance. It just takes the willingness to do so.

Our government has portrayed people migrating to the United States as evil, criminals, rapists. For this reason, many Americans have put up boundaries in their way of thinking, preventing them from finding solutions that would allow a better treatment to people who are here looking for help. Most migrants leave their homes looking for a better chance in life. Looking for an opportunity to provide food to their families. Looking for refuge from persecution. Looking for a place where they can be who they really are without fear of harm or death. We are blessed that we do not have to go through that although most of us can hardly understand it.

It is time for us to break down the boundaries that prevent us from providing more humane treatment to those seeking for a chance of happiness and remember that we have a moral obligation to help others.