AZliens, by Paul Shirley

AZliens, by Paul Shirley

About a week ago, I received the following email:

Paul –

Please write an article about the Arizona Immigration Law.  I’d be interested in your opinion.

Dave

Well, Dave, because you asked…

***

In my first year out of college I lived in Greece, where I played basketball for a team headquartered in Athens.  Late one night, while taking home a Greek girl who I didn’t particularly like but who would occasionally bake semi-edible chocolate cakes for me, a Greek policeman standing at a roadblock waved my blue Hyundai to the side of the street.

I asked my companion what was happening.

She replied, “They just do this sometimes.  They’re checking to make sure it’s okay for people to be here.”

I was nonplussed. I didn’t have my passport, probably because I hadn’t known that random stops by police were a potential hazard during an evening drive.  And I knew that my powder-blue, Kansas-issued driver’s license didn’t carry much weight in a foreign country.

The police officer approached my side of the car and shone a flashlight in my face.  He said something in Greek, which – because I didn’t speak Greek – I didn’t understand.  I smiled hard and asked if he spoke English.  He said he did, which made sense because, if you’re Greek, you sorta have to speak English if you want to communicate with any of the 6 billion minus 12 million people in the world who don’t speak your language.

Before we could start a conversation, my passenger leaned over, smiled at the policeman, and let loose a volley of Greek words.  She then answered two of the cop’s questions and sat back in her chair.  The officer wished me a good night and walked back to his post.  I drove the girl home and added “good interpreter” to the short list of her positive attributes.

Later, when I told friends and family about the encounter, I played up my fear, saying, “I don’t know what I would have done if the girl hadn’t been there.”  But, really, I said that to reassure everyone that A) living in Greece was more thrilling than it actually was and B) I had a social life that included women.

In truth I had, for a moment, felt unsettled – my brain leapt to that mediocre Claire Danes movie about disappearing to a filthy prison in Thailand.  But I recovered quickly enough.  From then on, I took my passport with me more often when I left the house, and I made my Greek teammates teach me how to say “Don’t shoot me!”, just in case the next policeman who crossed my path was of the corrupt, action-movie variety.

The Arizona Immigration Law to which Dave refers in his email does not purport to create encounters that are nearly as invasive as the one I faced in Greece.  In Athens, I was eligible for a random search because I was alive and wearing human clothes.  In Arizona, according to Wikipedia:

“The Act makes it a state misdemeanor crime for an alien to be in Arizona without carrying the required documents, and obligates police to make an attempt, when practicable during a ‘lawful stop, detention or arrest’, to determine a person’s immigration status if there is reasonable suspicion that the person is an illegal alien.”

From my research, nowhere in the Act does it state that, “Police officers should be jerks and should seek out darkish-skinned people and harass them because of their ethnic backgrounds.”

In fact, the law seems like a reasonable bit of legislation, especially in a state that, because of its location, is forced to confront immigration first-hand.

When I was living in Greece, the country was fighting its own battles with immigration issues.  Africans, Albanians, and Middle Easterners were crossing the border, utilizing civil services, and committing more than their share of crimes.

The response was to enact – or endure, if one was the citizen being stopped – a relatively benign policy of roadside checkpoints.  My experience in Athens, while inconvenient and mildly upsetting, seems, in retrospect, to have been provoked by reasonable concern.

There was a problem.  The Greek government decided to address it.

One needs only to look as far as the lines on a map to know that illegal immigration is a potential problem in the United States.  We, as a country, have not yet decided to allow anyone and everyone inside our borders.  If we had made such a decision, there would be no lines separating our country from others.

Illegal immigration – and immigration in general – also provokes a visceral reaction from American citizens, especially when those citizens live in states most affected by that immigration.  Their lives are influenced, one way or the other, by people coming from another land and either contributing to or taking advantage of the society shared by everyone already there.

Like the Greeks, Arizonians, or, more accurately, their leaders, responded.

The hullabaloo that has ensued because of State Bill 1070 was predictable, especially after it became obvious that Arizona’s governor, Jan Brewer, wasn’t going to quit the immigration fight.  Those on the left denigrated the bill, calling it racist and discriminatory.  Musicians, actors, and sports teams leapt into the fray and condemned the bill and anyone who didn’t hate it.

On the right side of that oh-so-proverbial aisle, the reaction was just as vehement.  The more jerk-kneed of their breed wrote things like, “Send them back to Mexico!”, while politicians made stern faces calling for the President to address the issue immediately, because, you know, people with brown skin are a much more voter-relatable issue than climate change or financial reform.

Both sides called the other names, the US attorney general filed a federal lawsuit, seeking, in fine political form, to sidestep the issue by debating the legality of the law addressing it, and the People (in a “We The People” sense) got even angrier, likely because no one was addressing the actual problem.

Here’s the thing about problems:  Usually, their solutions are going to make everyone a little unhappy.  It’s difficult to unwind a problem completely.  Problems, by their nature, introduce chaos into a system.  When your girlfriend breaks up with you, your life doesn’t just “go back to the way it was before”.  There are beers to be drunk, tears to be shed, and expensive therapy sessions to be had.

It’s true that police officers in Arizona are probably going to be more likely to ask people who are of Hispanic descent to prove their citizenship.  Most of the people who come into Arizona illegally are Hispanic, so Hispanic people are the most likely to be in Arizona illegally.

If I were running a grocery store and the distributor told me that he was afraid some of the food he’d sent me had gone bad, and that he was pretty sure the grapes were the most likely culprit, I’d probably inspect the grapes before I got to the Fruit Roll-ups.

That doesn’t mean that race-related identification (if you’re a half-full type) or discrimination (if you’re a half-empty type) is good, or desired.  It’s just that it’s logical, and probably going to happen.  And it’s true that some of the police charged with enforcing the bill will be mean-spirited about doing so.  But some of the police charged with enforcing regulations on window-tinting are mean-spirited about doing so.  The verity of the law and the way that law is enforced provoke two separate arguments.

So, Dave, what I think is this:

At least the people of Arizona, and – by extension – their governor, tried to come up with a solution to the problem that is illegal immigration. People have the right to solve their problems as they see fit, whether in Greece or in Arizona or on an Earth-like planet near Alpha Centauri.  Other people, in turn, have the right to not live there, or to do their best to change the laws.

Arizona’s solution may not be perfect, and there may soon be a bunch of people who will wish they had a cake-making native with them if they get stopped for speeding, but we can’t fault them for trying to solve a problem.

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