Rally Speech

 Hola, buenas tardes a todos, y bienvenidos a esta reunión.   

My name is Meredith Rector and I spent ten months in Nicaragua starting last July before being evacuated on April 24th of this year.  I volunteered with a non-profit organization called Manna Project International, an NGO which focuses on developing education, access to healthcare, and economic opportunity in two small semi-rural communities outside the capital city of Managua. I helped teach basic English in our community center and in the local public school, assisted with patient intake in our clinic, taught a prep course for advanced English speakers seeking employment in call centers, collected stories for our prenatal care program newsletter, and many other projects as needed.  I had no experience doing any of these things.  With training from my organization, I was given the subject matter to execute these classes and services along with my fellow volunteers.  But we also were fortunate to have a community that opened their neighborhood to us, allowing us to grow into our roles with their support and guidance.   

In my first week in Nicaragua, we went flyering in the community to advertise the start of English classes.  One stop we made was at the house of a woman named Lorena, the self-proclaimed “Manna mama”.  She had been attending English classes and volunteering since Manna began, and her children and grandchildren had gone through English classes at Manna and her youngest daughter had gotten into a local international school because her English was good enough.  From there her daughter was able to travel to the US to study abroad for a semester and after high school she got a full scholarship to college in the states.  She is currently pursuing her Bachelor’s degree in Michigan. 

Stories like that made me excited to begin working in international development, especially working to advance a country that the US has historically taken such an interest in destroying.  And the months that followed were the most challenging and rewarding of my life. 

On April 24th I was evacuated from Nicaragua along with my fellow volunteers due to escalating civil unrest.  A social security reform became the straw that broke the camels’ back in this repressed society and protests broke out everywhere.  As soon as things became violent we were all placed on lockdown and didn’t leave our house for five days until we left.  Many of our goodbyes to our close friends and students were virtual, and far sooner than expected. I thought that maybe I would return to Nicaragua shortly and that this was just an interruption in my time there rather than an ending.  But as protests escalated and a corrupt government refused to leave power, it became evident that returning was not an option. 

I was afforded the privilege of escaping that situation because of my citizenship.  One thought that still perplexes me is why is it that my safety and well-being is prioritized over the people of Nicaragua?  There are over 100 people dead and thousands injured or missing because a government isn’t allowing its’ people to protest without consequence.  I stand here able to freely opine without worry for my safety or livelihood, and 3000 miles away many have died to do the same thing that I am doing today.  Every day the imminent possibility of waking up to news about the death of a close friend or former student haunts me. 

And what if one of these people who have impacted my life so completely were to come to my country to escape the wrath of their own government? They would be met with policies of intolerance and an astoundingly large portion of the population of safe and privileged Americans telling them to just go home.  How would I feel knowing members of a country that had welcomed me so warmly would be denied so quickly? I am ashamed even knowing that this rhetoric and the inhumane practices that accompany it even exist.   

I truly and wholly agree that immigrants coming from other countries should be able to go home.  But we can’t look at other countries, particularly Latin America which US foreign policy has obliterated in varying ways throughout the twentieth century, and wonder why these people are seeking asylum. This issue is like eradicating unwanted weeds from a garden.  Policy-makers are currently picking the flowers off dandelions and wondering why these weeds persist.  We ignore the roots, the numerous socio-political problems that drive people here and make it unthinkable for them to return home.  I want them to be able to go home too.  But I also demand that our government sees that simply pushing these people out is far from solving the problem.  The issues that motivate them to come here will still exist.   

We need to be addressing this issue from the root.  Take interest in the well-being of our neighbors, assist them when we can.  If we take the time and resources to help them develop stronger and sounder societies for their people to live in, those people won’t need to flee oppressive and dangerous situations. It is a longer and less simple solution, but it is more lasting. It is working towards a world in which people have the security to live in their own countries without fear.  It is pulling these weeds from the root up, and ultimately eradicating the problem overall.  

I realized during my time in Nicaragua that the more people have, the less they are willing to give.  The US is currently the greedy neighbor.  Although we have plenty of rights and resources, we keep them all to ourselves.  Although we delegate resources to foreign interests, we are refusing to do so with our closest and most vulnerable neighbors.   

I urge the government and those who have any shred of power within it to think and act for our neighbors. Neighbors who are not running from their homes and families for something to do, or because they’ve always wanted to see America.  But neighbors who are running for their very lives.