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Children detained at the immigrant family detention center in Dilley, Texas, speaking with ProPublica reporter Mica Rosenberg over video call. Clockwise from top left: Diana Crespo, Luka Mora, Juan Nicolas Mo, Alexander Perez, Amalia Arrieta, Mayra Delgado. Mica Rosenberg/ProPublica. Click here to donate to ProPublica. |
Imagine the children’s drawings,
a family of three, standing in a cage,
a family of five, standing in a cage, their faces blank,
a family of seven lying down in a cage, labelled
with the words, me quiero ir, I want to go home.
Imagine the children’s letters,
We are kidnapped, help.
There’s an agent here, he’s watching us.
I can’t see Willi, accompanied by a picture of a pet cat.
On the day the art supplies are confiscated,
crayons, pencils, drawing paper,
the letters and pictures are seized as well,
portraits of friends, the tracing of a child’s hand,
tears and a frowning face in the palm,
even a five year-old’s picture of a peaked roof house,
lit from one corner by an inextinguishable sun.
One mother saves a handful of shredded pages,
all that is left of her daughter’s drawings. In a place
that is never warm enough, another mother hides
the drawings of as many children as she can
in the sleeves of her puffy jacket, carries them
everywhere.
Imagine a government that tries to steal
a child’s ability to imagine, imagine a five-year old
wearing a detention uniform, a replacement
for the blue, bunny-eared jacket taken from him,
the conejo that shared his name,
imagine a child’s voice too dangerous to be heard,
though no louder than the sound
a crayon makes on a scrap of paper.
Author’s note: All descriptions of children's letters and art work were taken from various news articles except for the description of a five-year old's picture of a house, which as an elementary school educator I feel is quite typical.
