Immigrant coalition pushes for more counties to commit pandemic relief funds to excluded workers

[Sherman A1]

After successfully persuading Johnson County officials to commit some of their pandemic relief funds for direct payments to workers excluded from federal direct payments due to immigration status, a coalition of immigrants and advocates is pushing other counties to do the same.

The Excluded Worker Fund coalition is a new regional organization called Escucha Mi Voz ("Listen to my voice&quot , a spin-off of the Iowa City Catholic Worker.

Last month, Johnson County devoted about $2 million to an excluded worker fund with American Rescue Plan Act (ARPA) funds. ARPA's direct payments to individuals was meant to "build a bridge to an equitable economic recovery" from the pandemic. Johnson County plans to begin its distribution to workers left out of those federal payments in early 2022.

The calls for economic relief have taken place over three months in cities ranging from Iowa City and West Liberty to Muscatine, Columbus Junction and Washington.

https://www.iowapublicradio.org/ipr-news/2021-12-10/immigrant-coalition-pushes-for-more-counties-to-commit-pandemic-relief-funds-to-excluded-workers

[old as dirt]

1. Never Forget

Interpreting after the Largest ICE Raid in US History. A personal account.

Eric Camayd-Freixas, Ph.D.

Florida International University

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Echoing what I think was the general feeling, one of my fellow interpreters would later exclaim: "When I saw what it was really about, my heart sank. . . ." Then began the saddest procession I have ever witnessed, which the public would never see, because cameras were not allowed past the perimeter of the compound (only a few journalists came to court the following days, notepad in hand). Driven single-file in groups of 10, shackled at the wrists, waist and ankles, chains dragging as they shuffled through, the slaughterhouse workers were brought in for arraignment, sat and listened through headsets to the interpreted initial appearance, before marching out again to be bused to different county jails, only to make room for the next row of 10. They appeared to be uniformly no more than 5 ft. tall, mostly illiterate Guatemalan peasants with Mayan last names, some being relatives (various Tajtaj, Xicay, Sajché, Sologüí. . .), some in tears; others with faces of worry, fear, and embarrassment. They all spoke Spanish, a few rather laboriously. It dawned on me that, aside from their nationality, which was imposed on their people in the 19th century, they too were Native Americans, in shackles. They stood out in stark racial contrast with the rest of us as they started their slow penguin march across the makeshift court. "Sad spectacle" I heard a colleague say, reading my mind. They had all waived their right to be indicted by a grand jury and accepted instead an information or simple charging document by the U.S. Attorney, hoping to be quickly deported since they had families to support back home. But it was not to be. They were criminally charged with "aggravated identity theft" and "Social Security fraud" -- charges they did not understand . . . and, frankly, neither could I. Everyone wondered how it would all play out.

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http://graphics8.nytimes.com/images/2008/07/14/opinion/14ed-camayd.pdf