Rio Grande: Where has all our humanity gone?
Last November, I stood on the riverbank of the Rio Grande. I was on the American side, in Texas. If I’d thrown a coin across the mucky brown water it would have landed in Mexico. I was with a 24-year-old Mexican man, Seven Flores. He’d crossed the river 15 years previously. His dad swam while tugging a small inflatable craft that carried him, his mother, and his two brothers.
Seven is an undocumented immigrant living in the US, and when his grandfather was ill he wasn’t able to cross the river and pay his respects before he died.
