He who shall not be named

I don’t want to talk about what happened in Connecticut last Friday.  I feel like the media has covered the matter in way too much detail as it is.  Truth be told, I want to complain about the media coverage.  They were interviewing children as they came out of the school building for crying out loud and posting pictures of them sobbing while walking away from the school with their hands on the shoulders of the child in front of them!  We knew the name of that individual before we heard the names of any of the victims.  Those that were on Facebook saw the creation of what seemed like 600 new pages/profiles devoted to the name the media gave out first, who turned out to be the shooter’s brother.  This sick individual became a celebrity the moment the first shot was fired, even if it was only because of the hate and rage at their actions.

When you look at the reaction of the public, everything has degenerated into a flame war.  Some want to increase gun control laws.  Others say that arming teachers is the answer and best way to keep our children safe.  The arguments are broken down into factions: gun enthusiasts, gun control seekers, atheists, über-religious, and the parents like me that are at a complete loss of words.  I don’t know that more gun control laws would make much of a difference; someone that is bound and determined to wreak havoc will find a way.  When it comes to religion, stay out of this type of situation completely.  Lack of religion in our schools did NOT cause this.  The remarks about the children receiving the best gift possible for Christmas, meeting Jesus, were completely insensitive and inappropriate in my eyes.  The comments stating this *proves* that religion is nothing more than the opiate of the masses is equally insensitive. 

Delay of Game

I know I didn’t write anything right after the hearing on Thursday and some people may be wondering what had happened.  It was one hell of a long day let me tell you.  I was up by 5:45 am to shower and get dressed since I was anticipating a fight of epic proportions from Ashley just to get her out of bed.  It didn’t go so bad actually so we go out of the house earlier than I expected.  The hearing was scheduled for 9 am, but Lance had asked me to get there by 8:30 am because the Pro Bono attorney would try to get her hearings done first unless I held the spot.  I was in Bloomington by 7:15 am, so I figured breakfast was in order.  I went to Denny’s and read my Kindle for a while.  I was still at the USCIS/ICE office before 8:30, but at least I wasn’t the only one there.

Lance arrived close to 9 am and the judge walked through the waiting room shortly afterwards.  The Judge grunted, “Which one of you is the pro bono attorney today?”  I watched as all the other attorneys avoided eye contact while looking through their files or checked their phones for emails.  Lance seemed bewildered and asked, “Wasn’t Amy supposed to be the Pro Bono today?”  Apparently Amy had a conflict on her calendar and wasn’t able to keep her obligation to the immigration court and now 25 people were without representation.  Lance glanced at the docket thoughtfully, and then called his wife.  He asked her when she was going to be done across the street because he needed help, and she said she would come as soon as she was finished.  Lance went to the window and asked for the paperwork on the Pro Bono cases to start reviewing who he could get done quickly without assistance since he didn’t speak much Spanish.  He rushed a few people through hearings before our hearing before the Judge.

We were brought into the courtroom the last hearing was held in a month ago, and the proceedings began.  The Judge obviously didn’t know what was going on with Alberto’s case, and the government attorney was as clueless as I’d assumed.  He was a mousey looking man, almost like Drew Carey prior to the weight loss only not as good looking.  The judge wanted clarification so the hearing was taken off the record and Lance began to explain why they couldn’t deport my husband.  He explained how Alberto was brought into the country for criminal proceedings, and how he must be allowed a reasonable amount of time to depart on his dime after the parole is terminated.  Alberto was not afforded this opportunity so the government had violated his rights.  Lance went on to explain that we still do not know what type of parole granted so we are unable to determine if Alberto is eligible for relief or if we should terminate proceedings to return him to Mexico without a final order of deportation.  The government attorney jumped in at that point, stating that we should go ahead with the termination of the proceedings and earned a sigh from Lance.  You see, the government attorney was unable to determine what kind of parole Alberto was granted to enter the US, and he was unable to locate the rulings that outlined Alberto’s rights as an immigrant.  We heard him muttering a steady stream of ‘what the hell’ as he was desperately searching for the documentation.  The solution was another continuance because the Judge refused to spend 30 minutes on a single immigration hearing, with admonition that the attorneys submit their motions prior to the hearing so that the Judge could have a decision ready.  Lance politely agreed to the continuance, which was scheduled for the 23rd of January.

Life goes on

I have begun to realize as the days and weeks march on just how much Alberto means to me. As I compose this post, I am desperately fighting off a rising level of anxiety caused by my inability to talk with my husband. Part of me understands that I am being irrational as my mind fabricates a list of cockamamie reasons why he is not answering his phone. My rational side insists that I should know by now that the cellular service in Mexico is sporadic at best with many dead zones and frequent outages. My irrational side responds that someone could have stolen Alberto’s cell phone again, there could have been an attempted kidnapping where he lost his cell phone, or that a roving brand of miscreants asked Alberto for a ride then abandoned him miles from any towns in the desert. I’m nothing if not creative when anxious.

Setting aside that train of thought, I am so glad that Monday is over. The only problem is that tomorrow happens to be a Tuesday. Just a few weeks ago during a particularly bad Tuesday I said, “It’s Tuesday; the mechanical, electrical, mental, financial, and emotional epic fail day.” I’m sincerely hoping that Murphy’s Law takes pity on me for a few weeks and gives me some peace. This is simply not a good month for the systematic meltdown of law and order.