Latino Man Would Erase Himself From Existence If It Meant Protecting America’s Borders
Deep in the Arizona Desert, on the border with Mexico, I talk to veteran U.S Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) Agent, Federico Gaspar.
Federico, 39, of Bakersfield CA, is a veteran ICE agent with many arrests that led to deportations under his belt.
“I’ve arrested a lot of people who look like me, and I’m okay with that,” says Federico.
He answered as if had been asked that question every single day of his life either by outsiders, his friends and family, but not himself.
And I think that’s because, surprisingly, Federico is himself a second-generation American, the son of a Mexican immigrant father and a Salvadoran immigrant mother whom both crossed the border without papers in the late-70s.
“Yeah, my parents crossed here illegally, so they broke the law, and if I could travel back in time to arrest them for doing that, I would.”
Shocked by the candid response, with echoes of a reverse Back To The Future – a quest to have your parents not hook up – I press forward.
“Do you think you would be born if you were able to do that,” I ask Federico.
“Doesn’t matter. They broke the law. You cross here illegally, you’re going back.”
I volley back with, “But if they never met, they would have never made you. Would you literally not be here having this conversation with me?”
Hitting it right back, he responds, “Doesn’t matter. You break the law, you’re going back. It’s the law. I don’t make it. I just enforce it.”
“Okay, but your parents would have never hooked up physically – you know what I mean? (I gave him a wink and gestured a faux thrust) – so you would not be here?”
“I don’t care. It’s the law,” Federico says unphased.
“Look, it’s the law. They broke it. So they have to pay for it,” Federico says in a very matter of fact of way. There is no doubt in his voice.
“But by that logic you would have not been born. Have you ever thought of that?” I suddenly feel like I’m trying to talk someone off a roof.
“Well, look, if me not being born would keep America safe, then I wouldn’t have been born. Easy as that. Plus, they broke the law. So I wouldn’t have to think twice about it”
“So you’re willing to erase your existence to enforce American immigration law?”
He puts his right hand over his heart and nods.
It suddenly dawns on me: I’m not talking to a normal person. Everytime I call him out on his logic and he denies the implications underneath it, I realize we’re slipping in the quicksand of some existential, self-hating, Latinx “Who’s On First?”
Me: “You realize you would have not been born?”
Federico: “Doesn’t matter. They broke the law.”
Me: “But you wouldn’t be here had they not broke the law.”
Federico: “I don’t care. It’s the law.”
Me: “But you would not exist.”
Federico: “The law is the law.”
Me: “But if you enforced the law by traveling back in time to arrest your parents and prevent them from hooking up, they would have never met and had you?”
Federico: “Doesn’t matter. That’s the law. I don’t make it. I just enforce it.”
Me: “But you would literally not exist. Everything that you are, all that you have done, all that you have aspired to and achieved, your sufferings, your deepest hopes and most fantastical dreams, would cease to be. Literally, you would be wiped away from the collective memory of the universe, a deletion more thorough than Thanos snapping his two fingers with the Infinity Gauntlet. You would be okay with that?
Federico: “I don’t care. It’s the law.”
Dismayed, I gave up on my conversation with Agent Federico.
I then called my parents and told them how much I loved them. I immediately wired my mom $500 and promised my dad to take him to his favorite breakfast spot next time I was in town. I thought one last time of Federico and wondered, “What the hell went wrong there?” I shook my head and reconciled myself to the fact that some questions don’t have answers.
