That’s probably the green card of columnist Arwa Mahdawi, who writes for The Guardian. Now she is worried every day about deportation. As a Palestinian immigrant living in the United States, she finds herself in a complicated situation with her identity. She happily and proudly mothers her four-year-old daughter with her American spouse. The political climate created during the administration of former President Donald Trump has caused her to reconsider where she lives. With fears of rising authoritarianism and increasing dehumanization of migrants, the decision weighs heavy on her mind about what staying would mean.
Mahdawi doesn’t pull punches as he reflects on the laughter, confusion, and anxieties parenthood brings in America. She enjoys time with her small child and their small, active dog, Rascal. Weighing in at just eight pounds, Rascal is a mongrel who has seen better days, losing a few teeth in his old age. The dog’s tongue lolled comically out of his mouth, keeping Mahdawi’s new life from being too serious and doing a lot to make her new life special. Yet, the burden of political turmoil hangs heavy over her family’s everyday life.
With the recent upswing of authoritarianism in the U.S., Mahdawi has found herself reconsidering her safety as a green card holder. She observes that “homegrown” chaos pervades the land. This is particularly glaring as we continue to hear about foreign reporters getting advised to bring burner phones when they return to the U.S. The necessity for this precaution is a testament to the panic surrounding immigration and civil liberties in the current regime.
In her one-on-one talks with her fictional partner, Mahdawi jokingly considers the concept of deportation. “I guess you really just want to get deported!” she zings. It would provide you a relaxing respite from childcare and allow you a lovely long sleep-in. Her statements expose her fraught choice between the demands of motherhood and her fears about political developments. Her wife’s light-hearted comment reflects both their understanding of the stressors involved and the desire for escape amidst ongoing turmoil.
Mahdawi’s human rights alarm bells should be ringing. She brings attention to the alarming news out of El Salvador, where individuals are going missing inside of prisons. Such stark contrasts between her life in the U.S. and these international crises further complicate her feelings about her status in the country.
Mahdawi’s reflections should ring true to any immigrants, including those who at this moment doubt their future in America. Now she has to think what that means if she goes home, out of the country. She understands that there is “no real process” for people seeking to confirm their immigration status or reenter the U.S.
The moody climate is poisonous with fear, and for the thousands like Mahdawi, it becomes an inevitable crisis of protection, of permanence. Her contacts in immigration law and civil liberties are equally chagrined. They corral their disappointment with an eye-rolling “Ehhh!” that summarizes their ambivalence toward the industry’s climate.