Leer en español
Welcome to Crossing the Border, a limited-run weekly newsletter from The New York Times. Like what you see? Send this to a friend. If someone forwarded it to you, sign up here to have the next issue delivered to your inbox.
When Brian Posada was growing up in the Mexican border city of Mexicali, the other children would tease him about his name. “Brian,” the name, was so American; Brian, the boy, never identified that way. He had been born in Las Vegas, yes, but he lived there for just one year with his undocumented mother before moving with her back to Mexico. He never learned English.
These days, Mr. Posada, 19, sees things differently. He makes the short trip between his two lives several times a week, crossing from Mexicali, where he still lives, over a broad walkway to the California border town of Calexico, where he sees his future.
I walked home with him one day last week, beginning in Calexico’s overcast downtown plaza, within sight of the border fence. Music blasted loudly in Spanish from a nearby stereo store. As he pushed past the turnstile to cross into Mexico, Mr. Posada gazed quietly at the farm workers on their way back to Mexico from American field jobs, their faces worn and muddy.
In Mexicali, his tone turned a bit caustic. He averted his gaze from indigent seniors splayed out on the ground asking for money. He pointed at the irony of a church situated next door to a brothel.
“This is what you’ll find here,” he said. “Poverty, drugs and prostitution.”
If his feelings toward his American citizenship had been fraught in the past, adulthood clarified a few things. He began to wonder what it meant that he was technically American, what opportunities might be open. He started working toward an American high school equivalency diploma, though he admits his lack of English proficiency remains a significant obstacle.
“My mom told me a short time ago, ‘Look, I couldn’t give you nice things like other people have. But I gave you American citizenship, which is what so many people are fighting for,’” he said.
He recognizes that now. “But I feel Mexican, I’m not going to lie to you,” he said.
When he turned 18, seeking a foothold to life in the United States, Mr. Posada got a job at one of the nearby farms that supply a large portion of Americans’ winter vegetables. It was backbreaking work. He would awaken at 1 a.m. and cross the border with other migrant farmworkers and begin picking by 3. He saw the physical toll the work had taken on Mexican men who had done it for decades.
That was not the future he wanted, he thought. “It’s a job that kills you.”
Now, he has a job registering low-income residents of Calexico for government-funded wireless plans on cellphones once colloquially known as “Obama phones.” Because nearly everyone in Calexico speaks Spanish, Mr. Posada can do the job without language getting in the way.
But it’s a competitive business in a poor area like Calexico, and not necessarily lucrative for people like Mr. Posada, who works on commission. On the day that we met up, he had signed up two customers, making for a day’s work.
We crossed back into Mexicali to meet with a friend of his at the Plaza la Cachanilla, a mall with clothing stores, piercing stands and anime shops. His friend, Ivan, is also Mexican and speaks good English. He agreed to help Mr. Posada draw up a study plan to work on the diploma coursework. They’d work together, he offered.
“How’s that? He’s Mexican, but he can speak English,” Mr. Posada said, smiling toward his friend. “Hopefully he can help me.”
As I waited for a taxi to head back across the border, I shouted to him, “See you soon!”
He asked me to say it again. Then one more time after that. He repeated the words to himself a few times under his breath, then grinned. “See you soon!” he yelled back.
— JOSE A. DEL REAL, reporting from Calexico, Calif., and Mexicali, Mexico
Jose is one of a team of New York Times journalists currently deployed along the border. Each week they’ll be sharing a slice of their reporting about the border and the people who spend time on both sides of it.
Do you have questions about life on the border? Or feedback about this newsletter? Email us at: email@example.com.
Mark Napier is the sheriff of Pima County, Ariz., which includes Tucson and 125 miles of border. Since taking office in 2017, Mr. Napier, a Republican, has drawn headlines for criticizing President Trump’s focus on a border wall. He appeared on an episode of The Daily podcast last month to talk about the border wall.
He recently spoke with Manny Fernandez, the Houston bureau chief of The New York Times, to offer a view from the front lines of the drug war. The following is an edited and condensed version of that conversation.
Q: What’s the current state of drug trafficking in your county?
(Read more here about the conviction of Joaquín Guzmán Loera, the crime lord known as El Chapo. And read here about how drug money still lubricates the U.S.-Mexico border.)
We have to understand that the drug cartels are the ultimate entrepreneurial organizations. When you take down an alleged kingpin like El Chapo, there is succession planning there. I mean, they’re a business. While that does help, and maybe creates a little void in the organizational function for awhile, there’s so much money involved, that that will be filled very rapidly, and they’ll be back in business.
One thing that’s missing from the discourse about how we discuss this problem — which is unfortunate — is dealing with the demand side of the equation. The fundamental fact is this: As long as we have this appetite for illegal drugs in this country, there will be somebody somewhere finding a way to satisfy that, and they will become incredibly creative about how to do it.
So our demand will create more El Chapos?
It’s encouraging that we can bring significant elements of the drug cartels to justice. That’s an encouraging sign. But I don’t know that it’s going to be a long-term fix or something that will significantly ameliorate the problems we have in our communities. That vacuum will be filled by another version of the same character.
Late last week, the American Civil Liberties Union and two other groups sued the Trump administration over a recent policy requiring people who are seeking asylum to wait in Mexico.
Here are four ways to go deeper into the conversation.
• Facing prolonged waits in dangerous conditions in parts of Northern Mexico, many migrants who arrived in Tijuana as part of a recent caravan from Central America appear to have given up, Mexican officials said last week. Many are either returning home, or accepting jobs in Mexico. Read more here.
• From November: The Interpreter newsletter looked at countries around the world that skirt global refugee laws, and the potential breakdown of the global asylum system.
• The New Yorker spoke with Ana Raquel Minian, a historian and author of the book “Undocumented Lives: The Untold Story of Mexican Migration,” about how the United States has historically treated asylum-seekers. Read that conversation here.
• Because of a backlog in applications, staff reductions and tighter scrutiny, the time aspiring Americans must wait to be naturalized has almost doubled in two years. Read more here.B:
【易】【超】【登】【时】【惊】【愕】【得】【忘】【记】【了】【自】【己】【在】【何】【处】。 【这】【一】【刻】【的】【幽】【海】，【极】【为】【死】【寂】。 【什】【么】【风】【浪】【都】【没】【有】。 【所】【有】【人】【都】【惊】【恐】【无】【比】【的】【看】【着】【杜】【灿】。 【幽】【海】【被】【杜】【灿】【一】【掌】【分】【为】【两】【半】【儿】？ 【这】【是】【什】【么】【力】【量】？ “【我】【的】【妈】【啊】，【柳】【生】，【是】【人】【是】【神】？” 【柳】【长】【风】【长】【大】【了】【嘴】【巴】，【似】【乎】【可】【以】【塞】【进】【去】【一】【颗】【鹅】【蛋】，【他】【浑】【身】【发】【抖】，【如】【见】【鬼】【神】【一】【般】。 【如】【果】
【上】【半】【场】【带】【着】【零】【比】【零】【的】【比】【分】【回】【到】【更】【衣】【室】，【皇】【马】【球】【员】【的】【情】【绪】【却】【都】【显】【得】【十】【分】【高】【涨】。 【都】【是】【欧】【洲】【足】【坛】【最】【顶】【尖】【的】【职】【业】【球】【员】，【他】【们】【每】【一】【个】【都】【身】【经】【百】【战】，【自】【然】【也】【都】【看】【得】【出】【上】【半】【场】【的】【局】【势】【到】【底】【是】【如】【何】【的】，【尤】【其】【是】【巴】【萨】【球】【员】【的】【表】【现】。 “【不】【是】【我】【说】，【如】【果】【不】【是】【他】【们】【连】【续】【犯】【规】，【我】【们】【上】【半】【场】【早】【就】【破】【门】【得】【分】【了】。” “【照】【我】【看】，【他】【们】【已】【经】【开】
【这】【一】【日】，【陈】【诚】【正】【和】【几】【位】【长】【老】【练】【习】【诛】【仙】【剑】【阵】，【护】【法】【长】【老】【余】【元】【派】【人】【来】【报】，【山】【门】【外】【有】【信】【使】【求】【见】。 【陈】【诚】【一】【愣】，【自】【己】【这】【山】【门】【刚】【刚】【创】【立】，【就】【有】【人】【找】【了】【过】【来】？【但】【随】【即】【就】【恍】【然】【了】。 【这】【两】【个】【月】【内】，【他】【只】【顾】【着】【处】【理】【门】【派】【事】【务】，【整】【理】【听】【道】【收】【获】，【倒】【是】【忽】【略】【了】【外】【界】【的】【事】【情】，【恐】【怕】【是】【李】【信】【已】【经】【得】【到】【了】【自】【己】【回】【返】【的】【消】【息】，【但】【久】【不】【见】【人】，【有】【些】【着】【急】
【柏】【塞】【谷】【的】【目】【光】【阴】【冷】，【爆】【射】【出】【了】【凌】【厉】【的】【杀】【机】，【他】【也】【不】【说】【话】，【往】【前】【逼】【近】。 【突】【然】，【柏】【塞】【谷】【的】【身】【形】【一】【动】，【闪】【电】【一】【般】【的】【袭】【杀】【向】【了】【宁】【川】。 【柏】【塞】【谷】【手】【中】【的】【长】【剑】【如】【银】【蛇】【飞】【舞】，【在】【雪】【夜】【的】【虚】【空】【中】【划】【过】【了】【无】【数】【道】【银】【光】，【忽】【然】，【一】【道】【银】【光】【直】【奔】【宁】【川】【的】【咽】【喉】【飞】【射】【而】【去】。 【宁】【川】【微】【微】【眯】【起】【了】【眼】【睛】，【他】【的】【瞳】【孔】【在】【瞬】【间】【就】【收】【缩】【成】【了】【麦】【芒】【状】，【此】【时】【的】【宁】【川】免费精准三头中特2016【能】【楚】【被】【问】【得】【哑】【口】【无】【言】。 【别】【的】【将】【领】【们】【都】【一】【阵】【哈】【哈】【大】【笑】。 “【没】【错】，【辽】【栋】【兄】【说】【的】【有】【道】【理】。”“【魃】【法】【星】【这】【个】【多】【层】【花】【瓣】【阵】，【就】【是】【基】【于】【兵】【力】【和】【火】【力】【上】【的】【优】【势】，【现】【在】【优】【势】【没】【了】，【他】【们】【肯】【定】【不】【会】【等】【着】【被】【动】【挨】【打】。”“【是】【啊】，K【扎】【吾】【可】【不】【是】【个】【大】【傻】【瓜】。” 【一】【片】【纷】【嚷】。 【熊】【楚】【将】【大】【手】【一】【拍】，“【没】【错】，【辽】【栋】，【你】【说】【得】【有】【道】【理】，【敌】【人】
【莫】【荆】【旭】【颓】【然】【坐】【在】【地】【上】，【他】【眼】【眶】【中】【隐】【隐】【渗】【着】【血】【丝】，【睚】【眦】【欲】【裂】。 【而】【一】【旁】【的】【敏】【玫】【儿】【听】【了】【强】【撑】【着】【身】【体】【坐】【起】【来】，【眸】【中】【含】【着】【泪】【水】，【此】【时】【莫】【荆】【旭】【怀】【中】【的】【婴】【儿】【也】【像】【是】【感】【觉】【到】【什】【么】【一】【样】，【啼】【哭】【出】【声】，【一】【时】【之】【间】，【场】【面】【一】【度】【有】【些】【混】【乱】。 【禹】【倩】【月】【难】【得】【露】【出】【那】【种】【冷】【漠】【的】【神】【情】，【睨】【了】【他】【们】【一】【眼】，“【怎】【么】？【有】【话】【想】【说】？” 【原】【子】【钺】【和】【楚】【茗】【霜】【一】
【其】【一】【就】【现】【在】【的】【形】【势】【有】【所】【转】【变】，【如】【今】【到】【现】【在】，【一】【切】【将】【成】【定】【局】，【暗】【夜】【的】【首】【领】【已】【经】【看】【向】【了】【云】【师】【姐】，【云】【师】【姐】【看】【见】【了】【首】【领】【的】【眼】【神】，【摇】【了】【摇】【头】，【表】【示】【不】【是】【自】【己】【做】【的】。 【暗】【夜】【的】【首】【领】【皱】【了】【皱】【眉】【头】，【在】【看】【见】【了】【云】【师】【姐】【的】【眼】【神】【之】【后】，【什】【么】【都】【没】【说】，【只】【是】【回】【身】【看】【向】【了】【皇】【甫】【辰】。 【皇】【甫】【辰】【嘴】【角】【牵】【动】【着】【一】【抹】【笑】，【云】【师】【姐】【看】【见】【了】，【越】【来】【越】【害】【怕】【这】【个】