In Flint, Michigan, she delves into the horrific, lead-filled water problem afflicting the largely Black and undocumented population there. It's the place filmmaker Michael Moore described with disgust in Fahrenheit 11/9; a place of abandonment, illness and death -- where President Obama dropped by for a glass of 'local tap water' that he made a show of quick-sipping for the camera, although it didn't look like the "yellow with some brown film" water locals were drinking. Afraid to open their doors to ICE officers, and largely unable to speak English, many members of the undocumented community in Flint, writes Villavicencio, didn't know right away that the water was poisoned. "Some undocumented Flint residents learned of the lead in their water," she writes, "only when family members from Mexico called them on the phone to ask about it."
On the bright side, she introduces us to Theodoro who has "worked at a cucumber plant, then in restaurants as a dishwasher and a cook, then in various factories: making Volkswagens, weapons, dishwashers, plastics, and soap." But his favorite job was a granola man in a chocolate factory. He describes to her "caramel-covered popcorn, pecan pies, cherry-center bonbons, little chocolate turtles with nuts inside." And heavenly aromas. When the factory closed down, he got an excellent reference from the owner.
But much as Moore found, Villavicencio sees residents of Flint, those unable to move away, as victims of horrible government. Undocumented migrants from Mexico, and other Southern locales, who've bought houses on eBay or share, have come to believe that they are targeted. Villavicencio puts it succinctly:
It is torturous for the community. It is not torturous for the government. They want us all dead, Latinxs, black people, they want us dead, and sometimes they'll slip something into our bloodstreams to kill us slowly and sometimes they'll shoot and shoot and shoot and shoot and shoot shoot and shoot and shoot and shoot ... and shoot and shoot and shoot and shoot shoot and shoot and shoot and shoot and shoot shoot and shoot until their bloodlust is satisfied".
Frustration like running water. As Moore pointed out in his film, if the state wanted to, they could run a pipe up to Lake Michigan and immediately solve the water problem. [UPDATE: Some Good News: "Ex-Michigan governor Rick Snyder to be charged in Flint water scandal - report" - Keep Hope Alive, rah rah rah.]
Similar issues facing peoples of color and undocumented migrants are related for Cleveland (home of 2016 major voter disenfranchisement) and New Haven, Villavicencio's residence during her Yale University days, and a center of blight and racial divide, accentuated by the rich whites who attend the university and the poor who eke out an existence all around its campus.
The Undocumented Americans is a rich collection of thoughts, observations, anecdotes, migrant stories and the myriad ways people on the edge, largely unwanted, manage to survive, and in some case, even thrive, despite enormous resistance in a land not willing to let them have Social Security numbers in order to mainstream, but will provide special ITIN numbers so that they can pay their taxes without representation or the promise of citizenship or even government services. It's a lively, often-loquacious read, and well worth the effort.
And a good reason to listen to an excellent Dylan/Baez cover of Woody Guthrie's song, "Deportee," written in 1948:
(Article changed on January 14, 2021 at 06:38)
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