- Sophie ReVeal, a CAIR Coalition Intern
In the months leading up to this summer I found myself becoming increasingly aware of social injustices around the world and I wanted a chance to get involved while also gaining work experience. I knew a close friend who had interned with a nonprofit that help detained immigrants the summer before so I asked her if she could put me in touch with the organization. The second I talked to the people at CAIR Coalition I knew it was how I wanted to spend my summer.
A few weeks ago an email appeared in my inbox inviting me to the “Detained Children’s Docket” on Wednesday July 6th. I realized it must’ve been what my boss had mentioned prior, an opportunity to go to an immigration court and watch the judge interact with CAIR Coalition attorneys and their clients. I knew it was an important experience to have and I’m always willing to try new things, so I immediately agreed to go.
However the day before I realized I was relatively uneducated on what I was about to experience so I started asking around. A few fellow interns I asked had never been to a children’s docket so they didn’t know what I should expect but everyone else used the word “procedural.” I learned it would essentially just be a few attorneys asking the judge to grant a continuance or sign off on voluntary departure for their clients while I sat idly by. What I thought would be a simple work excursion turned out to be an eye opening experience.
Approximately an hour before it was set to begin, we stood on the curb outside of the office waiting for our Lyft to arrive. We all patiently stood in the heat looking at our watches hoping that at any second our car would pull up and save us from the sun. Then we realized the Lyft would take another 4 whole minutes to arrive, so we hailed a cab.
What I didn’t realize then was at the same time we were climbing into a cab to escape 4 mere minutes outside, the clients we were going to meet at the courthouse were all leaving their respective shelters and politely filing into the facilities’ van. One boy in particular was coming from a facility with higher security and traveled with restraints on his hands and feet.
In our cab on the way to the court I was handed a document that listed each of CAIR Coalition’s clients along with some information about them and most importantly, what they were trying to get from the judge. Although I knew I was given the packet because we were discussing the customary aspects of the visit and how to grant the client what they were asking for, I couldn’t help but think about the other information that was listed on the page: their ages.
I was born in 1999 which makes me the same age or just slightly older than every one of the clients. Even though I was aware of the fact that I’d soon be in a room full of my peers, it didn’t fully register with me until I was actually there, sitting less than 20 feet from each of them.
The actual court proceedings, as expected, were in the end very procedural. But I didn’t leave the court thinking about how the attorneys addressed the judge or the fact I was scolded for risking damaging the pristine courtroom by drinking out of my water bottle, I left thinking about the very different paths those kids and I traveled to end up in the same place.
We were sitting in the exact same courtroom on the exact same hot July afternoon yet we sat in two different worlds. Many of the kids fled their home countries due to national and local gang violence as well as more case specific injustices that they faced at home. Despite the glaring distinctions that set me apart from every other teenager in the room the one that stood forefront in my mind is that I was born a US citizen.
Everyday at CAIR Coalition I heard about a new individual who desperately wanted to remain in the United States and become a citizen. I was constantly reminded of how lucky I am to have born in Atlanta, Georgia just 17 years ago. Although every single case is important, to me there was something much bigger when it came to children’s cases.
While sitting in that courtroom I thought about the fact that my biggest fears right now are that I won’t get into a college I want to go to, for them they worry they won’t be able to stay in a country they want to live in. This isn’t to say my college process fears are unwarranted but when compared to such a life-changing decision for one individual my problems began to feel very small and my privilege, clearer than ever.
In the Uber back to the office some of CAIR Coalition’s attorneys asked me what I thought about the docket. I tried to consult my notes for help but I soon realized that nothing I could’ve written could capture how I felt sitting in the courtroom with my peers. When we got back I walked around the office looking in at everyone diligently working and I was grateful to know so many people who are willing to help kids, who in the grand scheme of things, are kind of like me.
