Operation Streamline

~written by Tonya

The day we went to the Federal Building to observe Operation Streamline in action, I was shocked into silence at what I saw.  Around sixty men and women were seated together, all wearing prison jumpsuits and translation headsets.  Most looked weary, some nervous and anxious.  The judge sat on her raised podium and read off a detailed legal explanation about the plea bargain each of them was about to accept:  they would plead guilty to the lesser charge of entering the U.S. without passing through an authorized checkpoint in order to avoid going to court later and facing the greater charge of entering the U.S. after having been deported previously.  Pleading guilty to the lesser charge carried a penalty of thirty days to six months in the federal prison, followed by deportation.  Foregoing the plea bargain and going to trial for the greater charge, she explained, meant that they would face penalties of up to $10,000.00 in fines and seven or more years in federal prison, followed by deportation.  Having met with their attorneys for about twenty minutes, each had agreed to the plea bargain.  After having read  the legal explanation to the prisoners as a group, the judge began  to call groups of five people at a time up to a line of microphones.  This is when I noticed that each person was shackled, ankles together with a chain leading to hands together and a chain around each of their waists.  Most of them shuffled with upper bodies bent in shame and fatigue as they were directed as to where to stand.  The judge then asked several questions, pausing between each to allow each of the five to answer yes, no, or guilty.  I noticed that some looked to their lawyer for signals as to how to respond.  I saw a slight nod or head shake pass from lawyer to client, followed by the hesitant "si" or "no" that was expected.  Each of the group was then given his or her sentence, mostly several months in federal prison, and led toward an exit door in front of where we were sitting.  Attorneys had to remove their headsets for them because their hands were bound.

 As the "prisoners" were led out through the door near us, I tried to use my eyes and face to say "I'm sorry" to each and every one.  "Lo siento" I whispered over and over again, "lo siento."   Dear God, Please forgive us!  My heart broke a little more with each child of God who passed through that door, eyes full of fear, shame, defeat- but no defiance.  That's one word that should never be used to describe the people whose eyes I tried to meet with mine that day.  Yet I hear over and over, "what do they expect; they defy our laws."  One thing I know is that these people are not being defiant when they try to come here by any means they can.  They are merely trying to survive or reunite with family or feed their children.

If you can get past the inhumanity of this process; if your heart doesn't break at the thought of mothers who were trying to reach children being imprisoned for six months, then consider the mind-boggling ineffectiveness and cost of Operation Streamline.  Ask yourself, who benefits from it?  Could it be the private, for-profit prisons who are paid exorbitant amounts  to hold these people in cold, crowded cells?  Then ask yourself, why spend our tax money to imprison them with the same end result: deportation, followed (probably) by another attempt to cross the border? Economically, this is insane...unless, of course, you are the one profiting from all this misery as are the prisons contracted by our government.

As you've probably guessed by now, both my heart and my mind were offended by what I witnessed
that day.  I left the federal building in Tucson with a sense of brokenness...a broken system that profits only a very few;  people's lives broken; my heart broken; and worst of all, God's commandments broken.