‘If you hold sand too tightly, it will slip’

The next morning, we headed back up the coast to Tijuana and met with Hugo. We followed him in the green truck to the Movimiento Juventud shelter to do our paper mâché project. The shelter is a block from the border and about two blocks west of the San Ysidro entry point. The migrants are literally feet away from the USA. But they are stuck inside a metal building, sleeping in tents on a concrete floor, waiting for their future to begin.

We unloaded supplies and set up in the small room where the residents eat. The children came in, and Hayley used her basic Spanish to explain the project. We brought prototypes of each phase so they could understand. After working for an hour and a half on the first phase of piñata-making, we took a break so the shelter residents could eat lunch.

Hugo asked if, during this break, we wanted to see some other shelters. We followed him to a shelter for LGBTQ migrants. These migrants often face bullying, discrimination, and harassment by government officials, as well as other Tijuana residents and other migrants. We were graciously welcomed into their home and helped bring in supplies from Hugo’s truck.

Following a few blocks further, we arrived at a shelter with people of all ages. They formed a line on some steep, colorfully-painted steps and handed up boxes in a human chain. After that, we were invited to come inside to see where they lived and take a photo. The image of these lovely people completely contradicts the words the current American president uses to refer to them. They had warm, kind faces, and looked ready to work and contribute as soon as they had the chance.

We then returned to the Movimiento Juventud shelter to continue our project. It was almost 2 o’clock. The adults asked if they could help with this part, and we were glad they wanted to participate. They set up tables in a long row in the main room in front of all the tents. Hayley explained the next steps while I filled bowls with flour to make paste. In no time at all, almost everyone in the shelter was mixing flour-andwater, tearing up paper, dipping the pieces into the “goop,” and smoothing it onto the stuffed paper animal shapes.

There was laughter and excitement as the taped-up shapes became covered in paper mâché. The kids loved sticking their hands in the paste. The moms became excited as they added their expertise, and many wonderful animated forms emerged.

I knew at this point we could leave. The shelter residents had taken over the project, and we were no longer needed. As we said goodbye to the group, I asked one man who spoke English to tell them all we loved them. After he translated, a roar of exclamations came from children and adults with phrases I couldn’t translate, but I knew what they meant. Our hearts were full as we drove two blocks to get in line to cross the border.

We made our way through the terminals and headed north onto the wide and fast San Diego freeway, returning us toward freedom and independence, leaving behind poverty and captive migrants. I recalled the moment I was looking through the porous wall toward the beach in San Diego, then back at the beach where I stood in Tijuana. The beaches looked the same. The sun shone brightly on both sides. The ocean waves shifted sand back and forth through the metal slats with ease and grace. I was reminded of a quote by Joni Mitchell. “If you hold sand too tightly in your hand, it will slip through your fingers.” The more walls we build to claim and divide, the more ways those who are determined to get through those walls will try.