(Editor’s note: Surrounded by migrants, almost all of them from Venezuela, I decided to start interviewing people in a casual way. This information is the result of a conversation I had with “Luis” about what migrants really want. He chose this name, saying it is just about the most common name you will hear “over there.” The interview was conducted entirely in Spanish.)
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I have been talking to a young Venezuelan guy in a community center around the corner from a police station. He lives there. At least, he sleeps in a tent there. There are so very many people sleeping in front of (and inside) that station that the tarps, tents, and mattresses are now stacked almost all the way over the sidewalk to the street. With people standing around talking, eating pizza, drinking coffee, and handing out flyers for local church services, you now have to walk in the street to get past the encampment.
I ask Luis what he wants—and what he thinks most Venezuelans want. I tell him to be candid and tell me whatever comes into his mind. I remind him to consider the ideas and desires of the other people here now from his country and what they are telling him they want.
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INFORMATION. Luis says by far people want information about jobs, food, and transportation. Information is the key and he wants a plan from the city, with handouts about opportunities to get jobs, learn what they are called, learn the locations, etc. He says they always feel “lost” and very frustrated because they cannot communicate.
I remind him they are lucky they are in a city where there are so many Latinos living… many of whom speak Spanish at least conversationally… and tell him many Anglos and other people study Spanish as the first choice in school…
He agrees—saying “thank God” for that and the fact that in emergencies, “they” can usually find somebody in the back room or next door or upstairs who speaks at least a little Spanish.
These new neighbors, these new residents (in the police stations, on the sidewalks, in hotels, and in the Broadway Armory) all have decent phones, often know how to use the Internet, and have email accounts. They want to know where to go to use facilities, wifi, electricity to charge their phones, etc.
Some people in Chicago are calling these new arrivals to the city “migrants” and that implies some level of connection to employment. This is a good thing, fortunately.
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EMPLOYMENT. Luis says that the number one thing they want is real employment, on the books, with taxes, rights, privileges, and fees attached. The want the real thing. They want to start out working someplace where they do not have to know English yet. Some of the “migrants” have been granted their work permits--.
In September, President Joe Biden offered nearly half-a-million Venezuelan migrants in the U.S. the ability to live and work in the country legally, approving a longstanding request from cities struggling to house asylum-seekers.” This is only for those who “arrived here on or before July 31 of this year,” however (U.S. offers nearly half-a-million Venezuelan migrants legal status and work permits following demands from strained cities - CBS News).
Some migrants are very actively looking for work on various websites… but the language is a barrier and many do not have a CTA (Chicago Transit Authority, provides bus and train travel) pass. In some cases, they have very little cash and do not know where to look for CTA schedules or maps. These needs are fairly easy to solve, of course.
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ENGLISH AS A SECOND LANGUAGE (ESL) CLASSES. Luis explains that the Venezuelans are DESPERATE (his word) to learn basic English. They speak almost none at all. They need to know how to say “everything” according to him, but starting with the basics would be okay. He wants to know how to say all the important words, like “job, duty, hours of employment, schedule, manager, skills, learning, and pay.”
He says he does not understand why there is nothing in place yet.
I tell him I frankly do not know who would be in charge of offering or teaching or publicizing the range of courses out there. I try to get more information from him. I ask if social workers have been coming around—or someone from the city—and he says no… at least not as far as he knows.
Luis admits there are, in fact, some people from a local church who have been coming around with some info, and to give rides in emergencies, and of course to take people to mass (church services). He says they have some meetings and clubs and masses in Spanish.
He confides in me that it seems like most people who speak Spanish in Chicago are Mexican—or have studied Spanish in Mexico. I ask if this is a problem, and he says “no, just a few different words they use and we use different ones they do not know.” Otherwise, he states, we have no trouble understanding each other, though the Mexicans say the Venezuelans talk too fast. He laughs.
Luis is good-natured, young, healthy, and wants to work. So I ask about his leaving his country. He tells me a story about him and his wife Omayra (not her real name but similar to hers). They are here with their two sons. Luis talks about why they left—and how it relates to the next thing they want…
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SAFETY AND SECURITY. Luis and his family left Venezuela because the country “is breaking up” he explains, and it is almost “completely broken,” like an egg, he tells me. The country is in chaos, prices are crazy, there is no work, there is no safety, and there is no future. As a young father, Luis is desperate to protect his wife and sons and give them an actual home.
“Venezuela is broken and I cannot have my family in danger,” he explains….
They deserve a safe life. My sons need to grow up and become men. I do not want to lose my family because of riots or fights in the street. They need to survive, he tells me.
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APARTMENT-HOME-DWELLING. Luis, like other Venezuelans I speak too, is adamant he does NOT want to live in a big tent. He wants a normal place to live. He and his wife both plan to work, and he says they are creative people who can do “a lot of different things because they both grew up on farms and are used to that.” He insists they are both quick learners, smart, hard-working, and healthy. He says they do not get colds or flu, are used to being outside. Even though it is cold in Chicago, he says it does not bother them and their sons love it—they think they are camping on vacation.
“We are healthy as chickens!” he exclaims in Spanish. I ask him if that is really an expression from Venezuela and he says “yes!” One of his buddies, sitting near us hits him and tells him “to stop lying!” They both laugh, so I guess he has made this expression up.
“Soon, I will have a real place to live. I want it to be soon!” he tells me.
“I want a normal apartment. We all want normal places to live. Not in a tent.”
He says he tells people it is not unreasonable to hope for better days. He says he will pay people back if they help him. He says he wants a lot, but he will help other people. He sees there are lots of people volunteering their time and giving their money. He sees people bringing pizzas and blankets and so many other things.
Luis is thankful of what he and his family have gotten so far. He says if telling his story can help people, then he is all for it. “My story is common… we just want a chance,” he insists. Asked if he can ever go home, he says, “No.” He feels he would not dare try to return and only rich people (many of them very corrupt) have stayed behind. Or maybe the grandparents who receive money from their kids in the US, he thinks. A lot of older people are over there, and when they get American dollars over there, they live well and maintain the “old family house,” he tells me.
Just then, one of his buddies interrupts me to show me a coin, asking me in Spanish how much it is worth.
I answer, “Ten cents. It is called a ‘dime.’”
The young guy and some others sitting nearby repeat the word, “Dime.”
Class has begun. If only on a small scale.