A Case for Immigration
My entire viewpoint immigration on changed because one woman and one trip up the stairs
It is awfully easy to be an elitist, and I’m not particularly ashamed to say that I am. And economically, I’d have to say that my personal philosophy has bordered on laissez faire and Social Darwinist. I’m not exactly proud of such a designation, but I’ve always felt that anything is possible if a person is willing to sacrifice and work hard.
For a long time, that meant going to school and making the normal progressions up the social mobility ladder.
All of that changed because of a woman on the stairs.
I work for a clothing manufacturer in the fashion district. It’s only been a few weeks that I’ve been coming in regularly, and I haven’t really paid too much attention to the traffic of potential workers that come in and out. Sure, it’s impressive how many people come in looking for a job each day, but I had my own work to do to really meditate on the conditions of these people. And that’s easy. It’s elitist.
But I was coming back from lunch one day, signing in down at the desk that everyone does. Then a small group of people huddle next to me, and I look over.
There’s an Asian woman, maybe late 40s, wrinkles teasing her eyes and lips, with her hands clasped in front of her. She’s small and thin, 5′3″ or so, and her floral-print dress hangs on her more than fits. Her dark hair is a bit, pulled back with fly-aways coming every which way. With her are two boys, one around twelve, the other much younger.
“She’s looking for a job,” the older one says when cued by the eyes of his mother or grandmother or whatever.
They have her sign in and point her in the direction of the stairs.
Business as usual, I thought. It’s not like I had never seen a child have to communicate for someone older. She finished before I did and we both began making our way up the stairs. When she reached the top, she stopped. The two boys were standing together at the counter, watching her as she moved.
And then she turned her body and looked down at them and smiled. She looked so earnestly excited. The look was genuine and real, and it didn’t matter what language she spoke. Any person could see exactly how she felt. And I couldn’t help but envy her. She was able to walk up those stairs for a relatively low-paying job with that much excitement. I almost wish I could do the same.
Then I got to thinking.
I had been reading about the Creative Class (more on this later) and the transition of the American economy from a manufacturer one to a knowledge-based one. With immigration reform on the bill for this presidential election, the argument against migrants had been reiterated over and over again. They are taking our jobs, these low-paying jobs. And I couldn’t help to think how incredibly selfish the thought was.
We’re all actors working to maximize our own personal utility. But all of this hinges on opportunity. For the illegal immigrant who comes into this country, their opportunity is minimal. Getting a job without documents is a test and a trial; living everyday with the threat of deportation must be tiring. I don’t condone illegally coming into the country, but I don’t blame them either. Anyone not working for the benefit of their immediate self-interest I deem as lazy.
My fellow graduates that complain about not finding a job. The lower-middle class man that feels threatened by the migrant laborer. Raised in a world of opportunity, where a public library and subsidized education give a person with enough willpower every chance to join the Creative Class and fully succeed in the new American trade of knowledge and ideas, these people squander it on postgrad apathy or reduce their own worth to even have to compete with an illegal immigrant.
And I frankly can’t name one person I know that would be that genuinely excited to be walking up the stairs to just the very prospect of a sewers job.
I saw her at the counter again two days later when I had to get by. I remembered her face and I wish I caught her name. I also hope that she landed a job here (UPDATE: she did.). The company, and the world, could use more people that feel as sincerely thankful for their opportunities.
Don’t forget to be grateful for your own.
Filed under: Experience | 4 Comments
Tags: creative class, elitism, illegal immigration, immigration, job, opportunity, social darwinism, work
That’s a fucking powerful post, Shawn. Thanks for sharing.
I appreciated this both for its argument and for its style. I should approach my blogs a bit more personally, but I still have difficulty doing this. When I write creatively, I have no problem making interesting arguments from experience. I have yet to learn how to do this when doing expository writing. My problem, I think, is the perception that the two forms are distinctly different.
Anyway, I am glad that your job is opening your eyes. A lot of studies show that people rarely change their views on social issues after college. Although I am not surprised (because I know you well enough not to be), I am nevertheless glad that you are keeping your mind open and sharing your observations.
I stumbled on your blog after reading Angela’s and Milt’s; it’s damn good. You always bragged about your writing skills and I didn’t really ever doubt them ’cause I always read your columns-this isn’t as formal but enjoyable nonetheless.
Anyways, in theory I have the same beliefs of letting the market determine what the best solution is, and let the individual find their way in that world. But that disparity between theory and practice also prevents me from actually believing that America would be better governed by a benevolent dictator. Perhaps what you’re advocating then is closing the “Northern” border, don’t let jobs disappear to foreign intellectuals, at least during “economic slowdowns” or what we in the layman’s term business like to call, recessions.
Anyways, keep up the narrative, it’s a good read. Glad you’re enjoying L.A. by the way.
I like your thinking.
There’s not much else to say other than that.