Today I went to visit Rosa at Hutto. I hadn't seen her in a few weeks. She has now been in detention for about a year. Her asylum hearing is in about a month. She has no lawyer. I sat down next to Rosa on a couch. She was wearing her usual clothes. A pair of grey sweat pants and a pale blue sweatshirt. You look well, I told her. She smiled, not agreeing.
After catching up on the news, she told me that she finished the book she was reading, about dream interpretations. "Are you asking the ladies to tell you their dreams so you can interpret them?" I asked. "No," she smiled and looked down shyly, as she always does. "I had a dream last night, would you like to interpret it?" I asked, trying to add some lightness to our often difficult conversations. She nodded. "So there was this island, not a very big island, maybe the size of a soccer field. I asked a friend why she was going there and she said there were the most amazing birds there. So I went there too. I started walking around a path that went all around the island. In the middle of the island there was a grassy field, no trees, just tall grass. As I walked around it, I didn't see any birds. But as I approached the end of the loop, I saw a bustle in the grass. I approached it and saw a bunch of toucans, sort of jumping around in a little frenzy, near the grass. Beautifully colored as they are. Then I looked up ahead and I saw another commotion in the grass, and there were a bunch of little parrots, just shuffling around in the grassy area. I was mesmerized with the sightings, so unexpected and beautiful and rare... So Rosa, what do you think that means?" "Well," she said, "you know birds are symbols of freedom..." "Oh yes," I answered, suddenly becoming aware of her clearmindedness. "You know, dreams are symbolic, not literal. The birds in your dreams did not fly. They were not free. I think you have a lot on your mind visiting the detention centers and the immigrants' situations, and your mind is weighing heavily with these thoughts, of people, from Central America, like your birds, who are not free to fly. The island, their cage." Here I am, with all my degrees and experience, never giving my dream the any such importance. And in front of me, a true Joseph, in jail, her light shining so brightly. She is such a smart young woman. She really is so eloquent and strong. So much potential for success and career and education. And yet, she was dealt a sad, losing deck of cards from the get go. Stuck in a lawless country, with no means for an advanced education, beaten by the men around her, traumatized and worried enough for her life to walk thousands of miles to reach the possibility of saving her 4 young children from the same dark future. I told her she would be ok one day. God I hope that is true.
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AuthorDaniela Weil is a kids' writer/illustrator who lives in Austin, and a member of Congregation Beth Israel. Daniela works as a volunteer there and for RAC-Tx. Archives
February 2020
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