border

In Alejandra Oliva’s new memoir, she describes how her body becomes an archive of migrants’ stories.

For example, it runs right through a detention center in Mississippi. 

Alvaro Enciso plants crosses where migrants have died, to keep them from disappearing into oblivion.

Pretending we don't expect something gets us off the hook for not being prepared.

Pablo Cruz and Julie Collazo tell a story from the migrant detention crisis.

A Laredo pastor and his family are hard at work helping others, on both sides of the border.

Trump’s new policies are creating confusion and misery.

The children here are gaunt and listless. They are running out of time.

At the border, survivors of violence present their scarred bodies as testimony.

A student of mine went to Tijuana to help. She found she could help the most simply by paying attention.

What does it mean to worship in the middle of a wound?

The border wall means a lot to Trump. It means very little for public policy.

When Francisco Cantú took a job as a border patrol agent, he didn’t consider the cost to his humanity.

In Tijuana, we witnessed the resilience and humanity of the migrant movement.

Taking in refugees, giving asylum—these are things that generous people from a better place do for helpless people from a worse place. But we aren’t actually better.

Why, the customs officer wanted to know, was I traveling to Canada just to preach? It was a question to ponder.