25th anniversary of Prop. 187 raises perennial issue
On Nov. 9, 1994, California voters approved Prop. 187 and forged another path around the idea of citizenship, which turned into a fork in the road. At this juncture California paused and considered: Are we a state of missed possibility or a place where opportunity may be discovered and rediscovered? Would California keep people waiting at the Golden Gate? Is California the place of second chances? Is it meant to be?
California’s Proposition 187 was a ballot initiative seeking to establish a screening system to cull out undocumented residents for deportation and to prohibit undocumented immigrants from using public health care and education services, among other public benefits in California. After the law was passed it was challenged in the courts and determined to be unconstitutional, in contravention of federal immigration law and Plyler v. Doe, a Supreme Court ruling that holds that states may not deny public education to undocumented children. In 1999, Gov. Gray Davis declined to appeal.
Prop. 187 was also known as the Save Our State initiative, a tag line which calls to mind another immigrant and a famous scene from a famous movie he co-wrote and directed: “It’s a Wonderful Life.” I’m speaking of Frank Capra, and George Bailey’s response to Mr. Potter’s exclamation that immigrants are a “lazy, discontented rabble” who need to wait and save their money before they are allowed to purchase a home. Jimmy Stewart as George Bailey delivers a response we are still asking today: “Wait? Wait for what?”
Prop. 187 did more than ask a question about entitlements and economic impact. It flipped the identity of our state — an identity that storytellers from tribal people to folk troubadours to gold rush settlers to Hollywood filmmakers shared — California’s identity is about sharing the land, about its stewardship and our role as guardians of it and each other. Reality is a consistent disrupter of this California story, of course. If George Bailey asked why wait to help a person in need, Prop. 187 required us to ask: save our state? Save it from what?
California’s history is replete with the impact of settlement: The genocide of indigenous people, Spanish claims on territory and treasure, Gold Rush claims on territory and treasure, Manifest Destiny claims of white supremacy, territory and treasure, the forced relocation of immigrants and American citizens in order to preserve territory and treasure, the invention of digital technology which redefined who controls territory and treasure. But with Prop. 187 Californians pushed back to reclaim the narrative, in essence we gave ourselves a second chance.
On the second try, through litigation, we asked and answered questions about international boundaries and the cost of public services, the value of education. The Prop. 187 narrative on both sides seemed especially fixed on immutable boundaries, the existence of a line that should or should not be crossed. But this fixation blurs the moral questions of the origin of the boundary and the meaning of belonging. The California Question of who gets a public education, in the words of anthropologists William New and Loucas Petronicolos, rested then on the question of who belongs to a republic, not our republic.
These are age- old questions. Philosophers and filmmakers (and I would argue they are the same) have tried to answer them, as well as citizens and politicians. To think like Emerson and Thoreau or Capra or Lincoln is hard work. It requires and acknowledges change, even transformational change, even transformational magic. This commitment to an idea of the civic culture — call it America, call it California, call it Alta California — looks to the future by seeking the best of ourselves. True, to find that best part we must confront the worst of ourselves. California’s investigation of these understandings — on belonging, on citizenship — didn’t begin or end at the juncture of Prop. 187. In other words, to have faith in something bigger than ourselves requires us to face the moral issues. A line in the sand doesn’t help a person in need.
Twenty five years ago Prop. 187 was California’s real life Capra moment. But the question California answered then is perennial: Can we save our state from ourselves?