Beyond the Walls
Today some of us woke early for 6:30 a.m. mass, while others prepared at our home. By 7:15 a.m., our group gathered and headed to the Nogales Border Patrol station, two hours away from Tucson. There, agents welcomed us with tired eyes and honest words, sharing stories that no news headline could capture.
These agents face truly overwhelming circumstances – managing about 60,000 undocumented immigrants annually while combating drug trafficking, human trafficking and maintaining border security with very limited resources. Agents expressed that temporarily closing the border could allow time to develop a more functional and humane immigration system.
What struck us the most was the emotional complexity the agents carried. While committed to enforcing the law, they also spoke with genuine concern about the migrants they encounter. They shared stories of families fleeing violence, cartels forcing people to become drug mules, unaccompanied children being exploited and women being sex trafficked. Yet they simultaneously stressed the necessity for order within an overwhelmed system.
The wall itself felt like a scar across the earth – on one side, the country we all call home; on the other, people willing to risk everything for a chance at what we sometimes take for granted. When we saw families separated by steel and concrete, some calling out to loved ones just yards away yet impossibly distant, my throat tightened. In that moment, I understood that behind every statistic is someone’s parent, child or friend.
One of the most difficult moments was witnessing a deportation in progress – seeing individuals having their shackles removed before crossing back into Mexico. What left many of us in disbelief was the contrast between the smirking expressions on some faces and the genuine remorse on others.
This physical barrier represents not just division between nations but the challenging balance between security needs and humanitarian concerns. The experience reinforced that effective solutions must both protect national interests while preserving human dignity.
Standing at the wall itself transformed all of our perspectives. The harsh, expansive landscape revealed the immense difficulties agents face with surveillance and manpower. They emphasized repeatedly that the wall alone is insufficient. Effective border management requires better technology, more personnel and comprehensive immigration reform addressing the root causes of migration.
As we walked away, I felt both gratitude and grief washing over me. The border is not just lines on a map or topics in a classroom – it is where human lives intersect with policies, where dreams meet barriers. This experience has carved something permanent in my understanding, something textbooks could never teach.
I left with more questions than answers, but also with a deeper commitment to seek solutions that honor both security needs and our shared humanity. When I look at immigration debates now, I do not just see political arguments – I see the faces of those agents, those families and that wall stretching across the desert, asking us to find a better way forward. This experience definitely deepened my understanding of immigration issues beyond what any classroom discussion could provide, beyond what we hear on the news, beyond what any of us could have imagined.
My name is Lulu Aziz, a sophomore at Gannon University, a Pre-Law major, who after today is going to better immigration.
