Immigration EO and PTSD

Copyright: siamphotos / 123RF Stock Photo

This weekend's (January 28-29, 2017) stories in the aftermath of the Executive Order issued and signed by President Trump, placing (ostensibly) temporary restrictions on non-citizens from certain parts of the world from entering the United States has awoken anxieties and fears that I've personally experienced. Even though Japan is not one of the restricted nations, and I don't have any cause to believe I would be a target of the EO, the experience is all too familiar.

During my high school years, I attended a boarding school. During my first year there, I was a victim of theft, having a number of valuables stolen from my dorm room. Among them was my passport. I reported the theft to the police, filled out a report, contacted the Japanese Consulate and had my passport reissued. And I thought that was the end of it.

Would I be surprised and dismayed. Because I became the victim of identity theft, long before it became common parlance. The thief (high school student) apparently had gang ties, and my passport ended up in the hands of an international terrorist group (again, long before this was a popular concern). 

Even though I had a replacement passport and valid visa, from that point on and for many years, I was taken to secondary screening every time I had to re-enter the United States. The process could take anywhere from a few minutes to an hour. There is not feeling quite like that, when you know you've done nothing wrong, you know you've followed all the proper procedures, you know you have all the right documentation, yet one person can determine the entire fate of your life in those few minutes. There is nothing like anxiety and fear that arises from that. I came to dread traveling itself, because of this.

In my case, the final episode occurred in 1990 when I obtained my permanent residency visa at the U.S. Embassy in Tokyo and traveled to Los Angeles. I figured that because I had gone through all the background checks, health checks, and held the permit, I shouldn't experience any major problems. But that was not the case. 

The INS (remember, this is before Dept. of Homeland Security's consolidation of agencies, forming CBP and ICE) agent rejected the visa and sent me to secondary. There I waited. Different nightmare scenarios flashed through my mind. After quite some time INS officers and a LAPD detective entered. There they questioned me - what was I doing, where am I going, and then asked about ties to extremist and terrorist groups. This was the first time I understood why all the previous times I had difficulties on entry. The responses and my demeanor apparently satisfied them, because the detective told me that he could not believe I could ever have been or be a terrorist. Then he explained briefly that a passport with my name was on a red flag list, associated with a Japanese terrorist group. He said he would make sure things would get properly cleared and cleaned up. INS issued me Permanent Resident status, and for twenty-five years now, I haven't had a problem.

But reading about the EO yesterday and how it has already effected so much havoc at ports of entry and with people and families, I feel like I'm having to push away those past feelings of anxiety and fear. I do believe I have some PTSD (or something similar) associated with those past experiences. I've been able to slowly allow myself to be okay with travel, but I feel like I might not be okay again after hearing afresh the experiences that I've personally known. 

I know what it feels like to face the prospect of your life being completely upended by a decision of one person. I know what it feels like to have to consider returning to a country in which you hold citizenship, but is not your home. I know what it feels like to face being torn away from family and friends on the other side of that agent. 

If you don't know what this feels like, maybe it's time you shut up and listen and learn empathy.  

Maintaining Momentum Beyond Fear and Anger

This past week has been whirlwind of emotions for many of us who have been frightened by Donald Trump’s campaign rhetoric, certain of his supporters, and the aftermath of him becoming President-Elect. At least some of us had opened the possibility that he might actually govern differently than he campaigned. But his early picks of advisors for the transition and staff once he is inaugurated have pretty much dashed that hope.

So where do we go from here?

The field of psychology and study of history shows that fear and anger, while strong short-term motivators, are terrible for long-term momentum. Fear and anger are strong emotions that cannot be maintained. Our psyches become normalized to the new realities and the body chemistries generated by these strong emotions are harmful long-term. We should not, must not, rely on fear and anger to carry us through.

So what can we do?

We need to turn our current strong emotions into habits of action. We need to cultivate and work on actions that become a part of our regular lives: actions that welcome the stranger, actions that show compassion and respect, actions that look for ways to reduce bigotry and bullying, actions that foster empathy and love. We need to find ways to make a habit of going out of our comfort zones to make connections with people outside of our normal circles.

We need to find ways to keep informed via reliable sources. And we need make it a habit to give to organizations whose purpose is to fight hate and promote equality.

We have to turn our current negative, but very strong, emotions into positive habits that lead to change. Otherwise what Trump and his rhetoric have ushered in will become the new normal.

Personally, I do a few things to follow my own advice, and what I wrote above comes from my own experience:

• I am a volunteer victims advocate for the local domestic violence and sexual assault advocacy organization. It helps me keep grounded with real people who work with the issue and with victims of violence and abuses of power.
• I work with substance abuse issues in our community. This helps me see that issues don’t have easy, black-and-white answers or solutions. This helps me see that people are complex beings, and that I cannot impose solutions onto anyone.
• I donate to Americans United for Separation of Church and State. Their regular e-mail and print newsletters keep me abreast of religious liberty issues as they apply not just to a segment of Christians, but to all people or all religions and the non-religious.
• I just donated to Southern Poverty Law Center. I believe that the work they do in fighting acts of hate and raising awareness of instances of hate and hate crimes is especially vital going forward.

You might find some of these that work for you. And there are plenty of other ways to cultivate positive habits to combat fear and hate, and change the world for the better. My exhortation to you is that you find at least one or two ways.

Nothing and Everything Changed

America, two days following the 2016 national elections, hasn't really changed that much in most practical ways; yet, in another sense, everything has changed. The latter didn't hit me until this afternoon while I was out walking about our small town. It's a single town on a small island in Alaska, accessible only by air and boat. So the people who reside here are pretty much the same, year in, and year out. So really, Tuesday hasn't changed a thing in this town.

Yet, there was something different inside of me. See, I am non-white and an immigrant - fitting two of the categories (of many) which have been marginalized and attacked during the election campaign. I've lived in the U.S. for many years and in this town for the past ten. And even yesterday, as I was walking about town, I didn't really feel that different.

But today, something changed. Not the environment, the town, the people who I encountered and with whom I interacted. But something in my psyche, my emotional health, and psychological well-being. I felt suspicion and uneasiness. I was on higher alert for threats and dangers.

Intellectually, I know that the chance that something has changed so much in this town that I would actually be a target and victim is probably infinitesimally low. Yet the election of Donald Trump and the tacit approval of the rhetoric that goes along with that has attacked my psyche and emotions. And if that can happen to me -- who I acknowledge as fairly privileged in many ways, has never been overtly been a target of racism or hate, and in many ways never will be -- how much more fearful are those who actually have been victims and targets?

Even if you aren't a racist or bigot, your celebration of Trump hurts. Even if you really do love immigrants and would never do anything to harm them, your refusal to strongly denounce hateful talk is damaging. Even though (giving the benefit of doubt) that most Trump supporters really do care about people around them, your silence speaks volumes about what you value and what you don't. 

Your admonition to us to "stop whining" tells us what we're feeling doesn't matter. Your admonition to us to "learn that we can't always have our way" is telling us that our concerns are invalid. When you tell us to "suck it up" and place the "nation first," it's telling us that diversity is only of value when it conforms to traditional Evangelical Christian, white European, cis-gender views. Or to put it another way, diversity is only valued as a token.

There is a palpable fear being experienced by those who have been devalued by Donald Trump, his campaign, and some of his outspoken supporters. I hope that President Trump will have the strength, courage, and discipline to reject measures and policies that devalue and dehumanize any number of groups of people. I hope that Congress and the judiciary will act as real checks and balances, if President Trump oversteps.

When you say you care about those who aren't quite like you; when you say that you want to protect and help the marginalized; when you say that you don't hate immigrants and people whose religion aren't yours -- we need you to actually vocalize that loudly and to act strongly to support what you claim. We need you to actually go outside your comfort zones; to listen to people who are terrified, to people who are physically ill from what has happened; to denounce any kind of hate and dehumanization. Because if you don't, even if you say you're not a racist or bigot, your silence communicates something very different. We need to know we can trust what you say.