Last year, I traveled with two other women across the United States’ southern border and down to Oaxaca, Mexico, where we visited with migrant families traveling to the U.S. from Central America. We knew it wasn’t going to be a feel-good trip, but I don’t think any of us could have understood how despairing our proximity to their pain would be.
We saw families, many with ill children, who are stuck in makeshift camps in Mexico, blocked from medical treatment as they wait to make asylum claims or with hopes of immigrating.
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