From: “A School Nurse”
Just recently, my sister asked me how I could be so full of hate. As I started to think about her comments, I realized that maybe it isn't exactly hate after all, it's sadness. I then started to think why I feel so compelled to write to VDARE.COM about illegal immigration.
The reason is that I can see first-hand what an impact this is going to have in our country. The rest of America does not realize what will soon happen because they are not yet affected as we are here in Arizona.
This is a typical day in [an Arizona city] for me, a school nurse in a school which is now 95 percent Spanish-speaking.
From my office window, I get a clear view of the parking lot and the drop-off area. What I see are Tahoes, Suburbans and other expensive vehicles that the "poor" immigrants drive. (Gee, my car has 125,000 miles on it and I am a college grad.) Most of our immigrant families live with others to be able to buy homes here. I know that because they have to get a letter from the person that owns the home in order to register for school. (Gee, when my family immigrated from Europe, they lived in a sod home on the Prairie and nobody felt sorry for them. They learned to persevere and to work hard.)
Often, we have 100 kids that are tardy and many more who are absent. My office is filled with Moms who don't speak English requesting that I check ears, temps, etc. (Gee, I thought that all the illegals were working hard in the jobs no one else wants, but instead, they are here in my office.)
They don't smile at me or make much eye contact. (Gee, I thought that I was the one that was full of hate.) They are usually accompanied by the five other siblings and they are either crying or running around my office getting into things because Mom doesn't discipline them.
My phone rings constantly with phone calls for the attendance line and the first thing I hear is: "Habla Espanol?" (I do because I have to.)
The lockdown bell sounds. There has been another gang related shooting in the neighborhood. The police officer who shares my office responds. (We have police officers and probation officers in the middle schools.) I later find out that the victim was one of our former students who hardly ever came to school.
I read in the newspaper today how sad it is that the schools can't educate the Latinos and it's the fault of the system. (Gee, I went through the same school system.) My tattooed Hispanic office aide knows the gang member who was shot. She tells me that she can get big screen TVs for two hundred dollars. (Gee, isn't this a good role model?)
After work, I make a trip to the local WalMart. Diapers and garbage litter the parking lot. I stand out like a sore thumb because I am the English-speaker around except the people working in the store. (Gee, I thought I was in the United States).
When I get home, I read another newspaper article about the great number of Hispanic children who are killed in accidents because they don't have car seats or don't know how to use them. An organization that feels for them is providing free car seats. (Gee, what else are they going to get for free?)
This is a typical day for me in what used to be the United States. I have not exaggerated or embellished at all.
I am sad for our future and sad for my country.
Is this the way Americans want to live?
August 12, 2002