More than 120 years ago, my great-grandfather Alexander William Brooks Sr., his wife Mary Ann and their first three children crossed the Canadian border into Minnesota, riding the rails to Crookston, where they settled.
Alex lived a long and prosperous life, fathering nine children, first with Mary and then, after her death, with his second wife, Emma. He lived until 1962, and was remembered by at least my older brother, who wrote an adoring college freshman English essay about him.
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But here’s our family scandal: There’s no proof that Alexander nor Mary ever became U.S. citizens. No documents that say so. No family lore. Zero proof. Which, to be fair, was common in 1904.
But, measured by the belief of some nowadays, this means that my grandfather also was not a citizen because he was born to illegal immigrants. And, thus, my father … and presumably, me and my siblings, aren’t legal either. After all, there is no proof that any of my father’s ancestors ever took the action to become actual U.S. citizens.
Our entire family line that has prodigiously produced in the past century a long line of laborers, academics, managers, mechanics, nurses, veterans, public servants … and, yes, even a few characters … all illegal. Imagine that.
It’s been making me wonder lately, whether I, like many of our neighbors, should be worried about my status as an American. But then again, maybe I’m not considered a threat, given that my half-French, half-Indigenous great-grandfather crossed the United States’ northern border.
But, for the record, should you not see my column next week, you might want to wonder whether the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement agency plucked me from the streets and deposited me back in Winnipeg, my ancestral homelands.
The irony is that I can’t even hide in my own place of worship anymore either. Because, as of Tuesday this week, officers enforcing immigration laws will now be able to arrest noncitizens at sensitive locations such as schools and even churches. Nowhere is safe for us scofflaws.
The gospels give me hope, however. At least I’m keeping good company with others who were immigrants. After all, Joseph and Mary fled with Jesus to Egypt after an angel warned them of King Herod’s plot to kill the boy. So, I guess if you’re going to keep company, the holy family isn’t so bad.
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While I write tongue in cheek, of course — well, at least I think so, but who really knows nowadays — the tragedy is that this fear of being found an illegal immigrant is now quite real for many millions.
Families will be torn apart; businesses will be upended; and very little will be accomplished by fueling the fallacy that we will be safer by deporting millions of productive and contributing people. … Lord have mercy.
The Trust Project
