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In a land of immigrants, one [is] not an alien but simply the latest arrival. - Rudolf Arnheim
Last week, through several media venues, I heard about Jose Antonio Vargas. I have not been able to stop thinking about him or to stop wondering what will happen to him. More generally, I have not been able to stop considering the larger implications of his case. I invite you readers to do the same.
This essay is not about politics or the legal system, although it is hard to ignore the political and legal context. Rather, this essay is about what it means to live well and how it can be achieved.
The case of Jose Antonio Vargas actually entails two stories, both beautiful and both inspiring. The first is a story of a remarkably resilient person. The second is a story of humanity. The stories are necessarily entwined.
Vargas is an undocumented resident of the United States, one of those "illegal aliens" who are the subject of so much discussion nowadays, often in terms of broad generalizations or simple stereotypes.
His case puts a very different face on this discussion, one that is nuanced and morally complex. He is a Pulitzer-prize winning reporter for The Washington Post who specializes in technology stories. He is thirty years old, and has lived in the US since age twelve, when his mother sent him from the Philippines to live with his grandfather in California and to achieve a better life. Vargas had a green card, but it was a fake, something he did not know himself until he was sixteen and applied for a driver's license. The DMV clerk turned him away but did not turn him in.
Suddenly aware of his status, Vargas could have stayed under the radar, as his grandfather apparently urged him to do. But Vargas instead graduated from high school and then college. He built an enviable career as a journalist.
I decided then that I could never give anyone reason to doubt I was an American. I convinced myself that if I worked enough, if I achieved enough, I would be rewarded with citizenship. I felt I could earn it (Vargas, 2011, June 22).
In his own words, Vargas seemed to be living the American dream, although it was one in which a nightmare always lurked. Fearful of being discovered, Vargas kept many parts of himself secret even to many of those to whom he was closest.
One of my catch phrases in teaching positive psychology to my often fortunate and privileged undergraduate students is: "And what's our excuse?" Look at what Vargas accomplished against all odds. The moral awe that he inspires can lead the rest of us to redouble our own efforts to work hard and to make something of ourselves. If nothing else, Vargas forces us to go beyond our stereotypes about those who are undocumented. He is remarkable but likely not unique.
At the same time, Vargas did not become who he was in a vacuum. A convoy of people - friends, teachers, work supervisors, and even strangers - helped and supported him along the way, even though they put themselves at risk by violating the law. What they did was against the letter of the law, but what they did is also an inspiring example of people doing the humane thing fully in the spirit of a higher law.
His story came to public attention not through a high-jacked e-mail message, a mistaken privacy setting on his Facebook page, or a Tweet gone awry. It came to public attention through investigative journalism, his own! Vargas told his story in The New York Times Sunday Magazine not because he had to but because he wanted to. Vargas named names in his story, but only with the explicit permission of these individuals who knew of his secret, who nonetheless helped him, and who were willing to stand publicly by what they had chosen to do.
Two motives were at work for Vargas. The first was simply to be honest about who he was, if nothing else a refreshing contrast to the deny, deny, deny world in which we live. The second was to use his status and story to reframe ongoing debates about immigration and especially to bring attention to the reintroduced DREAM (Development, Relief and Education for Alien Minors) Act, a Senate bill that would provide a route to legal residency for young people educated in the US, regardless of how they have entered the country.
Opponent of illegal immigration have said: "He's not an American, and he broke the law, so send him back where he belongs!" To which I gently mutter: "And where might that be?" Anyway, we should also ask what makes someone an American, not in a narrow sense but in a broad sense. And no matter how much we may respect the law, we should further ask when "the law" started to apply to twelve year olds who do not even know what is going on?
Achieving the good life is not just about us living well. It is also about us helping others to do the same. Positive institutions - like the legal system - should allow and encourage people to do the humane thing rather than force them to do the opposite. And although I started this essay by saying it would not be political, I cannot help but quote founding father Benjamin Franklin: "The strictest law sometimes becomes the severest injustice."
In the midst of difficult debates and regardless of where we might stand with respect to broad immigration issues, I hope we can all take a step back to be inspired by and to celebrate the powerful stories of one man's resilience and the humanity of those who have helped him.
Reference
Vargas, J. A. (2011, June 22). My life as an undocumented worker. The New York Times Sunday Magazine. Document available on the Worldwide Web at
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/06/26/magazine/my-life-as-an-undocumented-immigrant.html.
