Frankie Solinsky Dyurea pulls out a Tunisian Blend Camel cigarette from his backpack, a habit he picked up during his summer trip to Morocco as a Princeton junior studying Arabic. Alone in Morocco and excited by the prospect of cheap cigarettes, Frankie says he wanted to act on impulse.
“For a good amount of my life I did feel controlled,” Frankie says. “Trying to find independence now when I feel like I had it restricted as a kid,” he adds.
With the cigarette still in hand, he pulls out his student ID, tracing it with his fingers. Occupying the entire width of the laminated card is his name: “Robert Frank Solinsky Dyurea.”
“I’ve been correcting people when they say ‘Frankie Dyurea,’” he explains. “I wanted to claim my full name.”
Despite his quest for independence from his parents, Frankie is proud of the four names that bind his identity. The outer corners of his name—Robert Dyurea—hold the memory of a Catholic priest who broke celibacy in secret to marry and father a child, Paul Dyurea, Frankie’s father; the inside—Frank Solinsky—holds the memory of a man, once destitute, who worked to send his daughter, Susan Fischer Solinsky, Frankie’s mother, to Princeton.
Frankie stands at a crossroads. On one hand, he values his independence; on the other, tinges of his hometown in Burlingame, California, follow him to Princeton, 2,900 miles away.
Paul’s earliest memory of Frankie’s thirst for independence comes when Frankie was just seven, on a ferry ride during a family vacation to Italy. Paul and Susan, seeing Frankie sitting on the deck by himself, decided to join him. “We probably grabbed him and pulled him over,” Paul recalls. “He got up and sat on the other side.”
Frankie doesn’t remember the ferry ride or much of Italy, but his parents have told him the story enough times for it to stick.
What he does remember, however, is the freedom that his parents gave him to pave his academic path at every juncture. His earliest decision came at five years old when his parents managed to get him redistricted to a Spanish immersion public school. Frankie was given the final say on whether he would enroll.
Decisions continued. Paul recalls a fourth grade Frankie after an admissions interview at the Synapse School. “I know you told me not to set my expectations—but I’ve set my expectations and I want to go here,” Paul recalls Frankie insisting. Frankie was admitted, and completed middle school there.
But when it came to college, Frankie says he wasn’t excited when he was accepted to his mother’s alma mater; in fact, he hadn’t even wanted to apply to Princeton—it was Susan who made him.
“I was controlled into applying,” Frankie says.
“Antebellum”—that’s the word Frankie chose to describe Princeton when he first toured it with his mother. “I didn’t want to follow in her shadow and I thought that that was what it was when I got in,” he says.
“I got in here,” he says referring to Princeton, “and Columbia and I think if I hadn’t gotten into Columbia I wouldn’t have gone here.”
“It affirmed that I was personally capable of doing this; that I,” he searches for the right word, “deserved to be here beyond the fact that my mom had gone here.”
It took Frankie three weeks to choose between Princeton and Columbia. Still, Frankie involved his family in his decision. “I ran the decision by a lot of people in my family, because I have a hard time making decisions,” Frankie admits. “It was tough and it felt like an important one.”
Now, in the place that Frankie disdainfully refers to as the “bubble,” he sits holding the names of his two grandfathers inked onto his Princeton ID: “Robert Frank Solinsky Dyurea.”
Rev. Robert F. Dyurea was a Catholic priest. He married Luilan Dyurea, a nurse at the hospital where he worked and, two years later, fathered Paul—both in secret. Marriage violated the church’s celibacy law and Rev. Dyurea risked excommunication. In 1971, despite overwhelming opposition from his congregation Rev. Dyurea was excommunicated, according to the New York Times. Paul was only five.
The scandal caused a rift. “The Duryea side, I’ve been estranged from,” Frankie explains.
The Solinsky name carries another story—Frankie is the sixth “Frank” in his maternal family to bear the name. “The Solinsky name comes from Count Solinsky,” Frankie explains. “They called him the Count, but no one knows if he was a real count with royal blood or if Americans were just racist,” he laughs.
“My grandpa grew up shit poor in California,” he adds. Despite that, Frank worked to send his daughter, Susan, to Princeton. Susan is now working on her third start-up, according to Paul.
“She goes to all these conferences and acts as a mentor to a lot of women founders,” Frankie explains. “I very much respect her and I think she’s incredible.”
Frankie gets his height, all 6’1’’, from the Solinsky’s and the Duyrea’s. He still holds the Lick-Wilmerding High School high jump record and was Captain of his Varsity Jumps Team, according to his profile on NCSA College Recruiting.
But for a long time, Frankie went by “Frankie Dyurea.” The byline on his Nassau Weekly publications—of which Frankie has been a contributor since freshman year of college—still read, “Frankie Dyurea.”
His choice to reclaim “Solinsky” coincided with his maternal grandmother’s passing. “I was boarding the plane to Argentina when they called me to say that she had her second stroke—and there was nothing I could do,” Frankie recalls.
“It changed me.”
“I feel a lot of pride for the Solinsky part,” Frankie says. For Frankie, the memory of his grandfather growing up with nothing to eat is close enough. “I don’t want to fall back,” he adds. “I take a lot of pride in the fact that my grandpa figured his stuff out, and was able to put his daughter through college.”
“My mom succeeded,” he adds.
Susan would graduate Princeton in 1986, writing her thesis on Spain, under the Department of Romance Languages and Literature, according to the Princeton Mudd Manuscript Library. Now, a comparative literature major and Latin American studies minor, these are interests that resonate with Frankie 38 years later.
“I get my mom’s interests,” Frankie says. “As much as I try to resist it, I’m a lot of her.”
“I still resist it,” he admits, “but a lot less now.”
Sources:
1. https://nassauweekly.com/byline/frankie-duryea/
2. https://www.ncsasports.org/mens-track-recruiting/california/san-francisco/lick-wilmerding-high-school/frankie-solinksy-duryea
3. https://www.nytimes.com/1971/04/16/archives/parishioners-rally-behind-priest-who-married-excommunicated-cleric.html
4. https://www.sfgate.com/news/article/robert-francis-duryea-2941273.php
5. https://dataspace.princeton.edu/handle/88435/dsp01t435gd59v?mode=simple
6. Frankie Solinsky Dyurea
7. Paul Dyurea
8. Harry Gorman
Month: September 2024 (Page 4 of 5)
I found this week’s readings interesting in the context of our discussion with Matthew Longo last week and his reference to the idea that people will go where the money is if the money does not go where the people are. The statement from economist Jean-Baptiste Say has an air of inevitability about it, as though it was a law of nature. The idea of migration being a force of nature is echoed in Taladrid’s pieces that we read for this week. In the Taladrid, former Mexican Ambassador to the US Arturo Sarukhán says that you ‘can’t enforce your way out of a migration crisis’” because the people and smugglers will simply find alternative routes. Indeed, as Lopez Obrador says, “people don’t willingly leave their own homes… they do it out of necessity.” The US has committed funding to development in Central and South America, but US politicians are under pressure to solve the problem now, which means enforcement. As a result, the US government spends much more money on the federal agencies that enforce immigration laws and guard the border. They treat the symptoms, not the cause.
Although I don’t think the question was asked explicitly in Taladrid’s piece, as I was reading, I asked myself whether the situation was sustainable. Moreover, if the situation were unsustainable, what would give out? Matthew Longo alluded to this last week, and I am inclined to agree: liberal democracy would give out. If the whac-a-mole of enforcement does not work, then many will see the immediate solution (the solution for the next election cycle) as a bigger hammer or a hammer wielded with less restraint. This is how we arrived at the “museum of deterrence”, that is, the wire, barriers, and blades on the Rio Grande, S.B.4, and Trump’s plan to deport millions of migrants when he enters office.
I am also interested in performative action in migration policy. Specifically, I am interested in performative cruelty. Operation Wetback, as Burgess outlines, was largely performative in its outcome, even if its intention was substantive. The government claimed to have deported more than a million illegal immigrants, but the figures didn’t add up. Moreover, many of these deportations were coercions to leave the country rather than legal deportations. Burgess also points to this evidence that US citizens were caught up in the operation. The purported success of Operation Wetback lay in the Bracero program, which provided an alternative route for migrants to migrate legally to work nine months a year on farms. But politically, Operation Wetback allowed Eisenhower to say that he was getting tough on illegal migration. We might note, however, that the performative action came at the cost of a chip on the rule of law in the US.
It seems that creating safe routes for migration, does dissuade people from coming dangerously. In addition to the Bracero program, the parole program in certain South American countries that resulted in a 90% drop in irregular migration from those countries. Someone who supported Operation Wetback might say that there is a crucial difference between people coming legally and illegally, even if it results in the same de facto outcome. However, speaking from the UK, temporary migrant workers are just as much an “other” to be blamed in times of economic depression as irregular migrants. For example, after Brexit, a political event inspired in part by legal rather than illegal migration, farmers’ crops rotted in fields because the seasonal workers from Romania and Poland could not come any more. If migration policy is purely motivated by racism, then that policy is a threat to liberal democracy and the economy of that country.
When walking past the construction site that will be Hobson College, Allison Jiang passes a sign along the fences: “Princeton Builds Access. Access Builds Serendipitous Collisions.” The wording has become somewhat of a joke among Princeton students – two years ago, every senior member of the Tower eating club used the phrase “serendipitous collisions” in their thesis.
But for Allison, the meaning rings true.
“I like to stick with that idea [of serendipitous collisions], because I feel like a lot of the friendships and connections you make here, they just kind of happen, you happen to be in the right place with the right people,” she told The Roth Report.
In fact, she says she has made most of her friends at Princeton through random, chance encounters.
“When I first got here, I had the mentality of ‘I’ll meet people through classes and clubs,’” she said. “But strangely, I found that most of the people that I talked to have kind of just been random and in passing.”
That hasn’t always been true for Allison, though. She was raised in downtown Chicago before moving to Shanghai with her family at eight years old. She went to a British International School before going to a boarding school in Massachusetts, the Groton School, for high school. Though she says that she made lifelong connections at Groton, Allison says that with about 80 people in her grade, there weren’t enough people to have those chance encounters.
“[The social environment was] almost like everybody knows somebody, or there are a lot of students who like their parents or teachers at the school,” she told the Report. “So I felt like everybody was very interlocked.”
But Princeton is large enough to foster those chance encounters that turn into lifelong friendships. And most of those have to do with a shared love of music. Allison has played violin since she was four years old, and she sings as well. She is part of multiple music groups on campus, including the chamber music group OPUS, the a capella group Shere Khan, and her own band, Pocketbook.
In fact, Pocketbook – made of Allison, keys player Simon Marotte, and drummer Ryder Walsh – started because of a serendipitous collision.
“I was in a freshman seminar with [Simon], and we had randomly jammed out once in NCW common room too but reconnected during a music class,” Allison said. “[I] started singing with them and it stuck!”
Simon agrees that it was serendipity that brought the band together.
“That encounter at the piano was pretty serendipitous. We both loved this song called ‘Best Part’ by Daniel Caesar. I’ve always loved playing on piano, and she sang it really well. And I think that was really serendipitous and like a motivating factor for me in wanting to work with her. But also, I feel like it’s kind of in the spirit of jazz to like the spontaneity of that.”
Pocketbook is slated to be the in-house band for Princeton’s late-night show, All-Nighter, this year, which the band is especially excited about. They perform original songs, covers, and improvised songs.
Another one of her serendipitous friends, Sophie Zhang, says seeing Pocketbook perform is one of her favorite memories of Allison.
“I remember, me and my friend were there listening to the song, and our jaws both just dropped because it was so unexpectedly amazing,” she told the Report.
Sophie and Allison knew each other tangentially from OPUS, but became close through a series of what Allison says are random events.
“We overlapped because one of their friends is in my writing seminar, and then we started hanging out more,” Allison said. “And then we texted a little bit, like to grab a meal, completely separate from that club. And now we kind of like randomly happen to be in the same dating club, so we’re hanging out more, just kind of a random turn of events.”
Sophie also said that their friendship came about through a serendipitous collision.
“I always thought that she would be the type of person that I would want to be friends with but we never really got a chance to connect,” Sophie said. “When I first met her, we just slowly got to know each other well. And I don’t even know how it happened, but, we just kind of bumped into each other, decided randomly to start talking to each other, and we really enjoyed each other’s company. So we see each other pretty often.”
Another close friend, Shravan Suri, also says he got close to Allison through random encounters after first meeting in Shere Khan.
“I ran into her a lot randomly, and so I think because of that, we just got closer through running into each other often,” Shravan told the Report.
Shravan says he and Allison also grew close on a Shere Khan tour in addition to getting meals together. They plan to spend Thanksgiving break together in Chicago – all in a friendship that happened through random encounters. Shravan says the change encounters outside of Shere Khan have been instrumental to their friendship.
“We have completely different majors. We don’t have too much that would have brought us together in the same way that like acapella has,” he said.
As Princeton builds Hobson College, one of its focuses is “how the college will house spaces of creativity and serendipitous collision.” Allison and her close relationships are prime examples of how those collisions can turn into lifelong friendships.
A set of readings/videos that were fact-based was really refreshing after a week of mass spreading of misinformation surrounding immigration in the US. I’d like to talk about this more in class a little bit, since it was just beginning when we last held class, but I think the story of the Haitian migrants in Springfield, OH is incredibly important right now.
I mean, just this morning, J.D. Vance was pressed on CNN about spreading that misinformation. This was the interaction:
VANCE: “The American media totally ignored this stuff until Donald Trump and I started talking about cat memes. If I have to create stories so that the American media actually pays attention to the suffering of the American people, then that’s what I’m going to do,” the Ohio senator said.
CNN’S DANA BASH: “You just said that this is a story that you created.”
VANCE, “It comes from firsthand accounts from my constituents. I say that we’re creating a story, meaning we’re creating the American media focusing on it. I didn’t create 20,000 illegal migrants coming into Springfield thanks to Kamala Harris’ policies. Her policies did that. But yes, we created the actual focus that allowed the American media to talk about this story and the suffering caused by Kamala Harris’ policies.”
Let’s sit with that for a second.
“If I have to create stories so that the American media actually pays attention to the suffering of the American people, then that’s what I’m going to do.”
He tried to spin the comment into “creating focus,” but it has been proven time and time again that this story is false. And now those migrants are fearing for their lives, there are bomb threats and acid throwing, and the Proud Boys allegedly showed up. The power of misinformation is really on display here.
Ok, I’ll be done with that for now, because these readings laid out the facts. I really appreciated the fact-based argument from the Center for Migration Studies of New York. Using statistics and charts lays out the arguments clearly – I thought the economic impact was particularly well-explained as it pertains to the workforce.
I also appreciated Burgess’s comparison of Trump’s mass deportation plan to Operation Wetback, and why Trump’s plan would differ drastically from the operation he seeks to replicate on a much larger scale – how it “misrepresents the context and impact of Eisenhower’s policy while ignoring the vastly changed landscape of U.S. immigration today.”
Blizter also uses a fact-based argument to say that Biden’s executive order is more likely a political move to show Republicans that he is also tough on the border – as the PBS News video stated – even as it is likely ineffective and so vastly different from the bipartisan border-security bill that he had pushed for: “From a policy perspective, though, it’s difficult to see how this order would concretely address a sudden, or even a gradual, jump in new arrivals.”
Blitzer also gives a great summary of the situation as the election nears: “Judging from the polls, voters remain deeply confused about what Biden can realistically control regarding the forces of global migration. Republicans are capitalizing on the situation, and Trump is using language that’s grown openly racist and fascistic.”
Immigration came up a lot in the debate between Trump and Harris, and Trump received pushback for pushing his followers to block the bipartisan legislation. We shall see if Harris also wants to carry out the border policies that Biden did.
There is no other way to describe my immersion in the new cycle of the 2024 Presidential Election other than sudden, unprecedented, and intense. When Trump was planting the seeds of his anti-immigrant vitriol during his 2016 campaign, I was living and going to school in Shanghai, China. At that time, I would not describe myself as “political” in any sense of the word; I was far-removed from this political conversation. Yet, through these readings, the dramatic and sensationalist nature of Trump’s approaches to immigration policy—specifically, that pertaining to Mexican migrants—is starkly familiar to me. He has conjured up such an image and approach to immigration that has been a prevalent cultural and political message through the past decade.
In “Trump promises to deport all undocumented immigrants, resurrecting a 1950s strategy − but it didn’t work then and is less likely to do so now,” Burgess writes that Trump’s militarized approach to deportation of undocumented immigrants is “playing to unfounded and dehumanizing fears of an immigrant invasion” and “misrepresents the context and impact of Eisenhower’s policy while ignoring the vastly changed landscape of U.S. immigration today.” Trump’s fearmongering of immigrants made the national stage during the presidential debate, as his comments on Haitian immigrants in Springfield, Ohio gained internet virality.
His comments are rather reminiscent of Eisenhower “Operation Wetback” Era where the popular opinion of immigrants was much more hostile. However, in Fear & Hope: What’s It Take to Make Sanctuary Real? [NYC Immigration Stories], the immigration lawyer describes immigration as the pivotal driver of the economy, dynamism, cultural capital, and enrichment in sanctuary cities. Mass, sweeping deportations do not translate in the same way as the 1950s due to this dramatic shift in the immigration policy sphere: the undocumented population is increasingly dispersed and diverse, and many live in cities where sweeps are hard to carry out.
Additionally, these readings helped me gain a fuller perspective of Biden’s approach to the border. In the political conversation, democrats are often described as ‘unsure’ around the issue of immigration compared to their republican peers. Perhaps this manifests in the language that these reporters use to describe Biden’s history on immigration: ambivalent, a balancing act, mixed bag… Biden has come out strong on his support for migrants, in his 2020 presidential campaign stating that the U.S. must take on the role as a “safe haven for refugees and asylum seekers.” He retained Trump’s deportation policy, Title 42, during the beginning of his presidency and has also enforced more punitive orders that shut down the Southern border which originally directed migrants to seek asylum between ports of entry.
As Harris runs on a campaign that looks toward the future, I’m left wondering about how the departure from a Biden presidency may impact the intensification of regulation along the border.
In my opinion, the reading that provided me with the newest insight was “Will Mexico Decide the U.S. Election?” There is a general narrative that Mexico lacks strong immigration policy of its own, instead reacting to the continuous demands of the U.S. The impact of Mexico’s National Migration Institute suspension of deportation proceedings, and how it aided with American efforts is an interesting reflection on how the dialogue around Mexico-U.S. immigration issues is more symbiotic than we assume. This insight may be central into how the U.S. continues to develop border policy for the upcoming administration.
If you asked Charlie Roth how his summer was, he’ll probably tell you he was manually inputting property tax records of the Witherspoon-Jackson neighborhood, one number at a time.
A college student’s summer break is a precious thing. Charlie was surrounded by the splashes of his younger brother in the pool as he drummed his fingers away at the kitchen counter, gazing into rows of excel spreadsheet cells. “I could have been miserable, sitting in my house while everyone’s at the beach or at an a cappella tour,” Charlie said. “But I’m typing numbers into a spreadsheet and having a blast—making the find that 20 houses doubled in property tax overnight.”
When Charlie was taking classes as a public policy major at Princeton University, he oftentimes found himself off campus grounds. He served as Head Data Editor and Senior News Writer for The Daily Princetonian, the university’s student-run newspaper, and was regularly reporting on local government meetings.
“In the very, very first meeting, I asked the editor if I could report on the Princeton town council because that wasn’t something that we did,” Charlie said.
In one of his interviews with a town council member, representatives directed him towards a blaring property issue that rested just north of Princeton University: the tax revaluation that had hurt the Witherspoon-Jackson neighborhood, a historically Black, low-income community.
“A few years ago, there had been a tax revaluation that like hit that neighborhood really hard, because their property taxes hadn’t gone up in a while. Then in one year, it went up 25% on average, in which he said, ‘You should look into it.’”
That summer, far from beachy waters, Charlie has been finding a key slice of information that allowed him to solve this economic housing puzzle. Helping elucidate local and national issues through journalism rests at the core of his studies at Princeton and his career aspirations of becoming an investigative journalist.
This fortunate moment got Charlie hooked on journalism, and led into the opportunity of the property taxes investigation which would end up as an award-winning piece titled: “‘Our community has become a commodity’: How Princeton’s historically Black community is fading.”
Charlie grew up in Baton Rouge, La. Despite being born in New York City and then moving to the New Jersey suburbs, he became stationed in Baton Rouge very young. His parents moved from cushy PR jobs in New York to support the family business, a dental and vision insurance company named Goudchaux.
“My mom, before she was in PR, was a producer at CBS News. Growing up, I watched a lot of news because, you know, she couldn’t help it, and I loved it,” Charlie said.
Notably, he was drawn to political satire—something that contrasted from his mother’s career.
“His passion, at least at the beginning was the writing gig, to write for the amazing Stephen Colbert, right? That was not my passion,” Deborah Roth, Charlie’s mother said.
To Charlie, these shows incorporated an element of the theatrical, the funny, and the political: all wrapped in a neat broadcasting-media package. Shows like “The Colbert Report,” “The Daily Show,” and “Last Week Tonight” were central to forming his media and writing voice.
Perhaps this was because Charlie grew up in a household that analyzed showtunes during minivan rides.
“Charlie and his father, who’s also musically inclined, would ride in the car and put on Phantom of the Operaand go through and stop and pause and explain the show,” Deborah said.
However, from this first taste of musical theatre, Charlie was fully aware of the operations of the theatrical world. “My mom was in the car with us during ‘A Heart Full of Love’ and she turned to my dad and said, ‘There’s no way they understand what this is about.” My dad motioned to me and I explained what a love triangle is. I was no older than eight,” Charlie said.
From there, Charlie has become involved in on-campus theatre through Princeton’s comedy musical troupe Triangle and the theatre production club Princeton University Players. He is also pursuing a musical theater minor in which will produce a political satire thesis project, titled “What’s the Issue with Charlie Roth?”
“I’m like, ‘Holy cow, you’re like an encyclopedia of this!’ But it’s so cool. He loves it,” Deborah said.
The people around Charlie see him as someone who is generously curious. Take his girlfriend, Madeline LeBeau who he first met before even stepping foot on campus. Charlie had called the university’s Center for Jewish Life to learn more about the reformed community at Princeton, and by luck, Madeline ended up answering.
“I was dazzled that he reached out to the Center for Jewish Life before choosing the school and to weigh his options,” Madeline said. “He’s inquisitive and hardworking, and just a really great person to be around.”
Charlie’s inquisitive nature permeates his experiences, relationships, and fine tunes the way he approaches challenges and questions in his life. During a trip to Newport Beach, R.I. with Madeline, while she was writing her research paper on the founding brothers of the Newport Jewish community, Charlie’s investigative passion rung out.
“Charlie made an active effort to find everything there was about Jewish Newport. He found this one random tour we went to, random houses that he looked up and found out that they were like related to his family,” Madeline said.
“He found all of these things that he knew would be really special and interesting and important to me. And, you know, that’s the type of person Charlie is.”
Burgess’s approach to analyzing the practical implications of an Eisenhower-style deportation policy in a potential second Trump administration is incredibly insightful. Trump’s mass deportation program is a central part of his political messaging during the election campaign, and it seems to resonate with many voters in light of growing apprehension about uncontrolled migration. Burgess’s analysis of Eisenhower’s Operation Wetback—which Trump used as a reference point—shows not only the rhetorical differences and divergent policy goals of Trump and Eisenhower around mass deportation, but also how the changing demographic and political landscape in the United States would complicate anything remotely resembling Operation Wetback. I am wary, however, of the conclusion that mass deportation in 2024 is an elusive goal. Trump has proven time and again that he is willing to take unconventional paths when it comes to implementing campaign promises, particularly when it comes to migration governance. The promise of a wall between the United States and Mexico was also met with intense skepticism in 2016. Eight years later, the wall—despite our criticism of its effectiveness—is being built. Title 42 is another measure that shows how far Trump is willing to go to limit immigration. Both the wall and Title 42 were continued by the Biden administration, indicating that immigration policy in the United States is shifting slightly to the right, at least domestically. I hope Burgess’s article will encourage us to be creative in anticipating the paths Trump might take to achieve his agenda, given how the political landscape in the United States (and the world) has also changed, especially in regard to migration.
In fact, the changing political landscape is exactly what Blitzer comments on in his New Yorker article: What’s Behind Joe Biden’s Harsh New Executive Order on Immigration? Blitzer rightfully notes that Biden did not need to institute the executive order that closed down the border to asylum seekers at the time that he did it. The number of asylum seekers was already low at the time, especially compared to last year. But Blitzer showed that Biden’s decision was largely a political one with two main goals: First, to make it clear to voters that the Republican Party is what is standing in the way of a lasting solution to what he now recognizes as a “migrant crisis.” With this executive order, he is expressing his commitment to a solution, but also lamenting his lack of support from Republicans in the Senate. Second, Biden is taking tough measures that he hopes will positively influence public opinion on his administration’s handling of migration ahead of the November elections. This is also reflected in the PBS Newshour video on the main differences between Trump and Biden’s migration policies. Biden is standing firm on the migration issue, contrary to popular expectations. As Blitzer points out, however, his approach does not seem to be working, as Biden is still poorly ranked in the polls on this specific issue. With Biden out of the race, I wonder what has changed and how much of an issue migration will be for Kamala Harris, whom the Republican Party has dubbed “the border czar.”
Finally, I enjoyed reading about Mexico’s role and influence in U.S. migration policy. What struck me most was the recognition of the changing migration dynamics between the United States and Mexico, and within Mexico itself. As Bárcena noted, “[Mexico has] become a country of origin, destination, and transit.” This important quote underscores the changing nature and direction of migration and the importance of transnational approaches to migration governance. I hope we will discuss this in more detail in class, as the success of U.S. migration management will continue to depend in large part on international cooperation.
I found many interesting takeaways from this week’s readings and videos.
Admitting my naivety, I am unfamiliar with many immigration policies issued by the United States. With this being said, I was particularly intrigued that Biden’s administration had kept Trump’s Title 42 deportation policy intact. Given my unfamiliarity with either candidate’s stance on immigration or action during each campaign, I found it interesting that Biden kept Trump’s policy until the courts disregarded it. I found this interesting because it appeared to make stances on immigration less black and white than we typically think of political issues. I also found the video’s take on Biden’sduality of the immigration issue interesting. Biden’s somewhat strict and humane approach to the issue of immigration introduces the idea of negotiation and compromise between political parties and specific stances on immigration issues.
I found the article titled, “Trump promises to deport all undocumented immigrants, resurrecting a 1950s strategy − but it didn’t work then and is less likely to do so now” particularly frightening. The beginning of the article discussing Trump’s desire to “carry out the largest domestic deportation operation in American history” was particularly disturbing to read, given the bluntness and lack of explanation. I feel as though the article painted an accurate description of how strongly Trump takes the immigration issue and stressed just how strong of pillar immigration is in Trump’s campaign. I found the article’s description of the “Operation Wetback” movement somewhat contradictory to what Trump desired to accomplish with his immigration plans despite him using “Operation Wetback” as some inspiration. One of the biggest contradictories that particularly stood out was that one fundamental idea “was not to remove Mexican immigrants but rather to frighten U.S. farmers, especially in Texas, into hiring them legally.” The rationale behind frightening U.S. farmers to offer legal positions rather than to deport immigrants immediately seemed to entirely dispute Trump’s seemingly blunt claims of only working towards deportation.
Something I found particularly striking from the video, Fear & Hope: What’s It Take to Make Sanctuary Real? [NYC Immigration Stories] was the authenticity behind the immigrants taking the bus from Texas to New York City. It was incredibly emotional seeing and hearing the story of the immigrant mother who was separated from her son for three months and had her husband deported back to Ecuador. Hearing this personal account and seeing the people behind it made me think about my own family and how hard being separated for months on end without knowing when I would be able to see them next. It also emphasized the humanness behind these immigrants. In addition to that scene in the video, they are like any other human. I also found the scene with the protestors outside the Roosevelt Hotel incredibly compelling. Seeing the pure anger and unrest of protestors reinforced the profound controversy this issue has prompted for sanctuary cities in particular. Despite being humans and only looking for better opportunities, immigrants coming into these cities are under consistent fire from protestors. This reality makes people like Power Malu, the founder of Artists, Athletes, and Activists, even more significant in situations like New York. Boarding the bus in the video and welcoming these immigrants to New York was a comforting scene, given the treacherous journey so many had gone on to get there. Reintroducing hope and comfort, Malu appeared to act as a bridge to New York.
One of the last articles I would like to comment on is the New Yorker piece titled What’s Behind Joe Biden’s Harsh New Executive Order on Immigration by Johnathan Blitzer. It outlined Joe Biden’s stance and actions on immigration well. It also prompted a particularly engaging question at the end of the piece that made me think about why Biden might desire to bring attention to the Immigration issue despite seeming to mitigate it well. “Why did Biden decide to issue a proclamation reasserting that there was a crisis when he’d actually been managing to keep it at bay?” It makes me think that Biden may desire attention to his current work on immigration to help promote the excellent work that he has been doing. Suppose a political candidate is being successful at what they are working on. In that case, I see no reason why they wouldn’t want to bring attention to the work that they are doing and bring eyes back to an issue that is being addressed adequately at the moment.
Comparing the two Goudeau chapters provides an interesting contrast in American immigration sentiments and policy pre- and post-World War II – but what is more interesting to me is comparing them with current stances towards immigration. Do people now lean more towards better-safe-than-sorryism or towards fulfilling what Truman referred to as America’s “responsibilities”?
In my opinion, the modern political climate – certainly in attitudes towards immigration – is far closer to the “restrictionists” vs “liberalizers” conflicts than the (mostly) unified support towards immigrants under Truman.
Certainly, the current Republican party is isolationist. They are explicitly “America first,” echoing the name of Lindbergh’s 1940 committee. Certain members of the party have continuously voted against giving aid to Ukraine, and a significant majority support a strong border with Mexico. That was even a common refrain in Trump’s 2016 campaign: “We’re going to build a wall, and Mexico’s going to pay for it.” So far, at least, one could argue that a partial wall was built, but Mexico certainly has not paid for it.
The modern isolationists’ concerns also echo their predecessors, though they have expressed even more concerns. The economic argument remains – Trump has been arguing since 2014 that “They’re taking your jobs” (referring to immigrants), and just this summer famously said that immigrants are “taking Black jobs and they’re taking Hispanic jobs and you haven’t seen it yet but you’re going to see something that’s going to be the worst in our history.” Trump has also said repeatedly that illegal migrants are coming from “mental institutions” but some have theorized that it’s simply because he doesn’t know the two meanings of “asylum.” In any case, isolationists have also added that the immigrants are illegally voting – and voting against their party – and the fentanyl crisis has only heightened their concerns. Are we looping back into the late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century stances?
If we are, I wonder how we might loop back to the post-World War II standpoint. One where we are welcoming towards those seeking refuge. Where the country feels an obligation to help them. Perhaps it would not be because of some horrible situation, but because we have the means to help other humans. Are we currently capable of that kind of humanity – where we see other humans as humans without caring about their nationality or a race?
Reading the quotes from Truman’s speech was fascinating. How many people would think that we have an obligation to refugees? It sparks an interesting debate – if something similar happened today – heaven forbid – would people think we have a continued obligation to help the refugees of war, or would people think our obligation ended because we “saved” them and ended the war? Perhaps the argument of owing it to the troops who died would win over any restrictionists? Would people support “doing what was right, even if it was hard?” (granted, that was from a movie, not Truman). Are liberalizers now more willing to fight against restrictionist legislation, as opposed to their lack of opposition to the Chinese Exclusion Act?
When telling a story, journalists need to maintain accuracy and not distort facts to heighten emotional impact. The emotional angle, however, is equally important because it helps readers connect with the human experience behind the facts. This duality is crucial, especially when discussing historical events like the collapse of the Iron Curtain. The journalist must ensure that the history is not sensationalized or oversimplified, while also making the story engaging and relevant to readers.
In The Picnic, the author’s approach to mixing historical facts with personal anecdotes allows readers to engage more deeply with the material. By grounding a large historical event in personal stories—like Nemeth receiving a threatening envelope—the abstract political narrative of the Iron Curtain becomes personal, humanizing the political shifts and tensions.
The use of sensory details, such as the envelope scene, is a brilliant narrative technique. It connects the political struggles with individual lived experiences, allowing readers to understand the personal stakes involved. This approach helps break down dense historical topics into more relatable and accessible moments, making the broader story of the Iron Curtain easier to digest.
What are your thoughts on how this narrative technique compares to traditional academic historical writing? Do you feel that the blend of personal anecdotes in The Picnic serves the educational purpose more effectively?
The use of short, impactful sentences, such as “Nemeth had steered himself for a fight. But Gorbachev merely responded: That’s your responsibility,” serves to heighten the tension and emotional weight of the moment. The brevity of these sentences mirrors the abruptness of the interaction, underscoring the contrast between Nemeth’s expectation of a confrontation and Gorbachev’s unexpectedly calm response. Short sentences like these strip away unnecessary complexity, drawing the reader’s attention to the core of the exchange and allowing the gravity of the situation to resonate more deeply. This technique not only accelerates the pacing of the narrative but also lends a sense of immediacy, making historical moments feel personal and raw. How does the use of such concise language shape the reader’s perception of power dynamics in this exchange?
Over the summer, I also became very interested in the idea of writing as a form of shaping collective memory. Through my summer in Argentina I learned about the intersections between collective memory and art as a form of activism. In Argentina, the Mothers of Plaza de Mayo helped keep the memory of people that disappeared by the hands of the government. The collective memory of that time includes both the triumph of freedom and the trauma of repression, that make the topic complicated to fully address. Journalism has become a form of information that people can access easily and in large quantities. How do you see the role of journalism in shaping collective memory, especially when it comes to major historical events like the collapse of the Iron Curtain?
Questions for the Author for Class:
Can journalism, through storytelling, change the way people interpret historical events, and if so, to what extent do journalists hold responsibility for these interpretations?
How do you handle instances where historical facts may conflict with personal anecdotes that are central to a compelling narrative?
How did you find this story and why?