what do u think about illegal immagration?

Answer 1

Best Answer - Chosen By Voters

I believe we need to have an immigration reform now! It's necessary. The answer is not in sending illegal immigrants back to their countries, and it's not in legalizing all of them either. I think many undocumented immigrants do a lot for this country and help the economy, just like many of them hurt it. I think, though it's a lot of work, illegal immigrants need to be scanned and get a background check done on them. If they've payed taxes, haven't been receiving federal aid, and are trying to better themselves by at least trying to learn English and showing proof of that, I'd say they deserve legal residence in the country just as much as a U.S. born citizen.

Many people share their opinions on immigration when they really haven't been exposed to it. They assume that all illegal immigrants aren't paying taxes and are receiving welfare. They think that they should stay in their country and improve economy there. I agree that citizens of other countries need to try and help, but it's a really tough job, and with all the corruption in other countries, it's almost impossible, so the escape is coming to the U.S. to work hard for a better life, despite being so far away from their families.

So here's an essay I read that I would like to share. Maybe it'll give you a better perspective of what immigrants go through and not be so negative towards them:

Immigrant dreams

By Ana Tenorio, 15, Orthopedic Medical Magnet HS
I always knew my parents had come here from Mexico illegally but I didn't know any of the details. I was busy hanging out with my family and friends, going to school or longing to go to a show for the rockabilly band the Horrorpops. I would cry when I saw the news reports about people drowning in the Rio Grande or dying in the desert while trying to cross the border, but then I would go back to my life. I never gave my parents' stories much thought until the recent immigration debate.

As I heard about the protests and the school walkouts over HR 4437, the bill that would make it a felony to be undocumented, I became curious about how and why my parents had come here.

When I was a child, my dad and grandma told me stories about Mexico so I would appreciate my home. I knew that some people live in huts made from sticks. Beans and tortillas are the daily food, meat and cheese are too expensive. The flu or cancer couldn't be treated by a doctor because there was not enough money for it. I saw this when I went to Mexico for the first time five years ago to visit my mom's hometown in Michoacán. It was sad to see a woman whose roof was falling apart. I had never seen this kind of poverty before.

But I hardly knew anything about my dad's childhood. The most I knew was that he began working at an early age, picking up tree branches for his mom to use as firewood for cooking. It was a constant example he used to encourage his children to do well in school and go to college.


Photos by Melissa Gonzalez, 17, Roosevelt HS
Ana (left) poses with her mother Ana, father Jesus, sister Alejandra and brother Jesus at their home in Los Angeles.
One afternoon, as I relaxed on the bench on our front porch, my dad sat next to me. I wanted to ask him about his life in Mexico, but I wasn't sure how to begin the conversation. I mean, here was my dad, enjoying the time remaining before he got a call to pick up his cargo for his job as a truck driver, and I was about to bring back memories from years ago that could be painful. "Tell me about your life in Mexico," I said suddenly. He smiled. After a few moments of silence he began telling me his story.

Growing up in Puebla, Mexico, my dad had a childhood like any other kid. At dusk all of the children in the neighborhood would play with marbles, hide and seek and trompo, a spinning top with a string attached. He was raised in a small town called Coatzingo, about five hours from Mexico City, where material things didn't matter much, where as long as you had a plate of food on the table, health, strength and life, you were grateful to God for what you had been given.

Everyone knew each other. On the way to the corner store he was greeted by people saying, "Buenos días," or his friend's mom asking him how his mother was doing.

As his father grew too old for field work, and his mother became feeble after raising five girls and two boys, it was up to my dad, the oldest male, to work his father's land. The family would feed themselves from the harvest of corn and tomatoes. They sold many of the vegetables to people in other towns. The money earned was enough to eat and build his family a one-room wooden home, yet he wished to build his mom a larger home.

The lure of Los Angeles

Then there were the many intriguing stories he'd heard from other immigrants who had returned from the U.S. about the fabulous lights of Hollywood, how magical Disneyland was and how downtown Los Angeles had the tallest skyscrapers ever. I was surprised that he was excited about something so ordinary, something that doesn't seem like a big deal to me because I live here.

After speaking with his family, they agreed that my dad was responsible enough to go to the U.S. He would send them some of the money he earned to sustain his family back home. So one afternoon in November, at age 17, my dad and a cousin left their homes for Tijuana. They stayed with an uncle who contacted a coyote, a person who brings immigrants into the U.S. illegally. This person was to guide my dad, his cousin and nine others across the border.

The coyote told them to follow him. "If you were left behind, you would be left alone to survive at your own fate," my dad said. "I ran as fast as I could. I tried to keep up, hiding behind a bush every time a large beam of light from the border patrol helicopters and patrols pointed toward us."

After going over the hill there was a fence between the U.S. and Mexico. "Many jumped the fence and some went under it through wide holes dug by other immigrants," he said. "I went under it."

They continued running until they reached a wide river. "Take off your shoes, shirts and pants," the coyote said. "Tie your shoes together in a knot and hang them around your neck. Wrap your jeans and shirts on your head."

"We did as we were told," my dad said. He saw the water reach the necks of those who went in before him. "I felt a sudden urge of fright." As he described crossing the river, my heart raced. I realized that something could have happened to him and he may not have survived. It was scary to think that my father, the man who gave me piggy back rides to the park, could have died.

On the other side of the river in California, the group met a white man who was to help them cross the Santa Clara checkpoint. The friendly man told them to get in the trunk of his car. "Up to the checkpoint the radio will be playing music in English. You can talk, laugh, sneeze." He told them. "When we are one mile away from the checkpoint I will change the station to Spanish radio. Then you are to be silent. You will hear music in English once we are a mile away from the checkpoint."

I tried to picture my dad in that trunk with nine others and I realized how terrible it must have been. I hate rooms without windows, it makes me desperate to not have a view to the outside world. I wondered if he felt like he was suffocating.

After they made it safely across the checkpoint, a different man took my dad and his cousin to a gas station near their Aunt Lupe's work, ending their one-week trip.

As he stepped out of the car he noticed the immense difference between Coatzingo and Los Angeles. There were concrete sidewalks, paved roads and traffic signs. He wondered if he would be able to adapt to this new way of life, but he felt relieved to have finally arrived at his new home.

He started at the bottom

My father's first job was in a clothing factory in downtown Los Angeles making only $1.25 an hour.
In 1986 my father became a legal U.S. resident through the amnesty given to undocumented workers who had arrived in or before 1985, which was the year he arrived. He was able to work jobs that paid minimum wage. That same year he met my mom, who crossed the border in a car, hiding under large pieces of wood along with her mother and sister.

Five years later my dad became a U.S. citizen. Through citizenship he was able to get legal residency for my mom and his parents, who had come here illegally after him. He was able to afford building his mother a five-bedroom house in Coatzingo, which my family usually stays in when they visit. About 10 years after my dad became a citizen my parents purchased their own home. Two years ago he became a truck driver and he is paid a better salary.

When I asked my dad what he missed the most from Mexico, he answered, "Everything." I asked him to be more specific and he responded firmly, "Well what means everything to you? I miss my home, I miss my town, my people, the mellow way of life. I miss not caring about what time it is and not having to race the clock at all times. I miss breathing pure air. Nothing here feels like Mexico, but this is where I am." He said he plans to return to Mexico when he retires.

All my life I thought everything he needed was here. He had never told me how much he missed his small town and his people. It made me feel like he wanted to return to Mexico, but it was his family that kept him here.

Before I fell asleep that day, in the middle of my worries over my chemistry grade and the French Club meetings I had been missing, I thought about what my dad had said. I put myself in his shoes and I couldn't imagine not having life as I know it. I can't imagine leaving my home and not waking up every morning and looking at the Elvis Presley poster on my bedroom wall. I can't imagine leaving friends behind and walking into a new country wondering if the faces will be friendly or not. I can't imagine being expected to immediately learn a new language and going on with my life pretending I don't miss my home.


I realized I should've asked about this earlier. It would have made me even more proud of being their daughter and more proud of my Latino background. My parents said that since my siblings and I were growing up in this country, it wasn't important. But it was important because it helped me see things differently. It was no longer people on TV risking their lives, but my parents.

Now I want to fight for immigrant rights

Just thinking about my mom behind pieces of wood, or my dad crossing a polluted river, makes me understand what illegal immigrants go through to come to here, in search of the "American Dream." It made me feel like part of la raza, the Latino community which demands basic human rights. I, too, can fight for the cause.

On May 1, to support the national boycott, I didn't go to the store after school. I did go to school, however, because I believe education is necessary for the progress of the Latino community. We have to get an education and show everyone that Latinos can be positive contributors to society. I remember being in kindergarten and doing my homework at the kitchen table. My dad would come home tired from his job at a belt factory, sit in front of me and tell me, "Study hard so you won't end up like me, breaking my back." He wanted better for his kids. My parents worked hard to come to this country. It would be sad to throw it away and not get an education.

If people put race and legal conditions aside and realize that we are all simply human beings, maybe they would understand why immigrants enter the country undocumented. Immigrants are not criminals. They're here to improve their lives. I am proud of my father. He faced many risks coming to this country, yet he had the courage to come here, improve his life and give his children opportunities he never had.

Source(s):
layouth.com

Answer 2

Illegal immigration is a drain on our economy. Although the jobs they take are frequently undesireable positions in our society, the fact is a lot of money gets spent on dealing with these individuals. Being illegal, they rarely pay taxes, which limits their economic contributions to their home cities, states, and the nation as a whole. The members of this group which engage in illegal activities (Not all of them do, I'm certain there are a number of honest and hardworking members of the groups) must be tracked and handled by law enforcement.

On a side note, since they are unwilling to become citizens, they should not get healthcare of any kind, barring life threatening emergencies... I'm an American Citizen, and I don't even get healthcare, except for an expensive HMO. When serving in the US Army, I had complete and free coverage, but I was also risking my life and my future in exchange for that coverage, so I believe that's a fair trade.

Secondly, and my biggest problem, is a frequent lack of willingness to speak english clearly. I can understand wanting to become an American citizen, and applaud the efforts of every person going through the naturalization process, but if you aren't willing to learn to communicate with the people in your home, then you should go somewhere else.

In the military, I was assigned to Italy for 2 years. I loved every second of it. I never took leave to go home, never left the country until I had to, and I learned to speak Italian. It's their country, their home, and their language. I felt that as the foreigner, it would be wrong to require them to learn my language. I apply the same logic to America. English is one thing that should bind this country together... not separate it to make communication difficult.

That said, our naturalization process needs work. There are solutions available to help these individuals become official tax-paying citizens of the United States, complete with the right to vote, and the chance to try and make a new life. We need to find these solutions and make them work.

Answer 3

Well, I think it's kind of funny that immigrants coming into the US from Mexico are crying about being sent home. Did you know that if anyone is caught as an illegal immigrant in Mexico, they are sent to prison for 2 years, then deported back to their country? I say we all swap, because there are people who live in the US that don't want to be here, but we have tons of people from elsewhere trying to get in. So, I'll take your place, and you take mine. A citizenship swap!

Answer 4

No why should I be bothered with something that I have no control over. The government is going to do what they want, they do not care one way or the other about illegal immigration, unless of course it is election year, then they will make believe they are concerned until election is over

Answer 5

I think that if you are going to live here, number one-speak our language. I m so tired of everything being in spanish. Cleaning products,commercials, and childrens toys. Number two, work and stay off welfare. Don't take the good jobs, send your money to mexico and live off my tax dollars. And number three, live here in accordance with our laws. I am tired of hearing about one person being legal and having a huge family here thats not. And lastly, quit bi***ing about how hard your lives were, so you need compensation. I have news for you. My Irish ancestors were persecuted, came here and helped build this country and were still treated like crap, so no sympathy here. Get over it and just try to make something positive of yourself and your life.

Answer 6

Althuogh I strongly sympathize with the many hard-working Mexican Nationals that have helped make this country Great.

I think the time has come to close the borders. In these days of insane terrorists, who are seeking entry to this country by any means possible, Osama Bin Laden himself could cross our southern or northern border far too easily and bring God-only-knows-what with them!

Answer 7

i need it if we were to institute their immigration guidelines. look in to what they make immigrants go by purely to paintings there. after I firest study it, i could not believe what i became interpreting. i do not recommendations immigrants coming right here. this is what this great usa became depending upon. What I actually have a topic with is even as they do it illegally. Doing it the right way is a discomfort contained in the a** yet there are motives in the back of the approach.

Answer 8

I am for immigration if it is done the right way. Our ancestors came across the ocean and did it the right way at Ellis Island. We are Americans and we speak English. Education is needed to learn of our history and what we are about. We need solidarity. If you want to live here then you need to embrace our culture, pay taxes, and devote yourself to being a hard working American and not living on our government hand outs. If we went to any other country to live, we wouldn't get any help and we would have to learn their language. If you want to fly your national flag then go back to where you came from. Quit trying to divide our nation. For example, this isn't Mexico, so quit trying to change us. You need to speak English. You need to pay taxes. You need to make sure you are educated.

Answer 9

Everyone who isn't a Native (Indian) is an illegal immigrant or the descendant of an illegal immigrant; the native people didn't invite us here, after all.

Answer 10

I live in North Carolina and this seems to be the place they flock to. It's true I'm not going in the hot sun to work if I can help it or do any of the other jobs they do (God be my helper). This is all I'm saying pay taxes like I have to do, become legal, pay for your medicine, and get off welfare. The welfare thing applies to anyone on it that's able to work and get off of it.

Answer 11

It's called illegal immigration for a reason.. its ILLEGAL.. go back to where you came from, and if you want to come back then do it the right way.