“It is my hope,” he said, “that if we regard them as such, we won’t have an immigration crisis. We won’t need to debate. We will find laws and ways and manners in which we can legalize and equalize this population.”
    Filming the migrants and their situation was understandably difficult but ultimately rewarding, he noted in a pre-show interview. “We’re talking about a population who is here without documentation,” he said, “so that, in itself, was difficult — and sensitive.” Bringing in a video camera was doubly difficult.

    Frey earned the trust of those who did agree to be filmed by actually living with them for a while without his camera. “I ate where they ate, and slept where they slept and spent time with them, with their daily routine,” he said, “and they began to trust me.” Eventually they opened up to him and he asked if he could come back with his camera to record these interviews. Some said yes. Most said no.

    Their involvement with the Catholic parish that began assisting them more than 20 years ago started with a simple request for Mass. Initially held in a clearing in the brush, their first Mass site was marked by a crucifix and a tiled icon of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Eventually, roofing was built over the altar area and a colorful tile and masonry wall constructed behind it. Benches and picnic tables were built or brought in to serve as pews for this open air chapel under the trees and additional religious objects added. A floor of paving stones was laid down. A sparkling stream ran nearby.

    Every Sunday parish volunteers packed up the necessary supplies and trekked into the woods along with their pastor to meet with the 100 or so members of this “invisible” congregation, treating them with the dignity they seldom received in their work life and seeing to their physical and spiritual needs.

    As the construction of more and more high-end homes began to encroach on the workers’ make-shift dwellings and the chapel, their wealthy neighbors became aware of and began protesting their existence — a cause vociferously taken up by the militant Minute Men and a radio host. It was only a matter of time until the immigrants were forced to dismantle their idyllic chapel and, following the vandalizing of their camp (all the inhabitants’ clothing was slashed and hung in the trees), find a safer area to set up what remained of their make-shift habitations and to hold Mass.

    Through it all, the immigrants maintained their strong faith, refusing to hate those who displayed such hatred towards them. Especially memorable is the indigenous Generoso, who spoke only a Mixtec dialect when the parish volunteers first met him, but whose faith and studies led to his becoming a Eucharistic minister, a task he carries out with great reverence. After the immigrants’ chapel was dismantled, this minimum-wage laborer offered his savings of $1,000 to build a new one.

    Three of the church volunteers shown in the film accompanied it to San Antonio for a question and answer session following the screening — Terri Trujillo, migrant outreach coordinator; migrant catechist Christauria Welland; and migrant healthcare advocate Michael Akong. Joining them, along with Frey, was the film’s executive producer, Jack Lorenz.

    Frey spoke of the migrant situation in other parts of the country being as grave, if not worse, as that shown in his film. “You are talking about a population of people who do not have rights in this country,” he said, “and who have a tradition and a history in this country of being taken advantage of.”

    Noting we are in the midst of raids, calling in the National Guard to patrol, and increasing the size of our border fences, he said of the migrants, “It is about them as the villain and us as the good guy and we basically have a war against these individuals and I don’t see it getting any better.”

    Christauria Welland, a psychologist who has been catechist to the migrants for 15 years, related Our Lady of Mt. Carmel Parish presently has about 80 members working in this ministry. She praised their pastor, Father Frank Fawcett, for his total support of the migrant outreach program, but noted there have been those who did not support it and left the parish as a result.

    Despite the neighborhood opposition to the migrants, the ministry has never stopped, she continued. When finally forced to move, they found a new place to gather, only to find it fenced off a short time later. They temporarily met by the side of the road then until Father Frank found a secluded meeting place at a nursery owned by a Chinese non-Catholic who immediately offered them use of the site when asked.

    “So that location seen at the end of the movie is where we are,” she said. “It doesn’t have a stream; it doesn’t have trees. We have to haul Our Lady back and forth every Sunday and we hang the cross up on the back of that shed there. But it’s good. It’s quiet. Nobody ever bothers us. We’re OK.”

    She recalls once being “vetted” by some of the migrants who wanted to be sure she was “the pope’s girl” before allowing her to conduct catechism classes for them. Much of the classes consist of sharing and discussing their life experiences in the context of the Gospel. “Many of them come from very difficult backgrounds, the grinding life of the poor,” she said. There is much alcoholism, unhappy family life in the homes they were raised in, much sadness and trauma.

    Having worked in Mexico in the past, Welland has personally seen the kinds of villages these people come from. “It helps them, I think, to be able to know that I can tell what they’re talking about when they’re talking about the poverty that they come from,” she said.

    The crime rate in the migrant camp, she related is actually lower than in other parts of the area in which they live. The film debunks the camp’s well-heeled neighbors who blame the migrants as the source of neighborhood crime and a special DVD interview with migrant healthcare director Michael Akong, shown at the film’s end, notes that the workers are actually very healthy overall, with no cases of hepatitis or AIDS.

    Terri Trujillo, migrant outreach coordinator for the parish, oversees the five teams, who provide the food for the migrants — beans, rice, tortillas, fruit, desserts. “It’s all volunteer,” she said. “We have some very dedicated, loving people and they all love what they do.”

    They do have help from some, but not all, of the neighboring Catholic churches and had help with the ministry for two years from a Jewish community. Recently a Presbyterian group has been assisting. Our Lady of Mt. Carmel provides money for the supplies they need. Praising Father Fawcett, she said, “I don’t know how he does it, but he does it. He makes sure we have enough money for boots and blankets and tarps and it’s like a never-ending well. Somehow the money just keeps coming.”

    For the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, they provide gifts for the migrants supplied by the parish — jackets, blankets, toiletries, socks, boots, blankets. They have had up to 500 gifts brought for these occasions.
The church owns property in that area of the canyon which they eventually plan to build on, at which time they can move the “invisible chapel” to a permanent home. “But for now,” she says, “I think we’re pretty secure. We’re pretty secluded.”

    Jack Lorenz, the film’s executive producer, previously worked for Universal Studios, Warner Brothers, Disney and Sony before forming independent Gatekeeper Productions with Frey. “The experience that I’ve had with John Carlos in making the films that make a difference has been beyond anything I could ever imagine,” he said, noting that they opened The Gatekeeper in 31 cities — one city at a time. “And some months it’s hard to pay the rent,” he added, “but it’s worth it.”

    He noted that elected officials do only what the temperature of the day tells them to do. “I believe that a lot of the politicians are incredibly intelligent, loving and caring people,” he said, “but in order to keep their jobs, they do stupid things. And if we tell them to do smart things, they will. But we have to be the ones to do that.”

    Frey ended the panel by noting that no movement in our nation’s history was brought on by politicians, citing the civil rights movement, Cesar Chavez and the women’s movement. “Every movement that I know of has always come from the people,” he said. “The lion is waking up and the more it begins to roar, I guarantee you, the more politicians will begin to hear.”

    At present, he said, the anti-immigrant groups are making the most noise, calling in to radio shows, writing editorials and protesting in marches. “I think we have to do the same,” he said. “And that’s where it will start. It has to start with a ripple.”

   He added, “Ghandi says, ‘Whatever you do will never change the world. Whatever you do will never change the world. But if you don’t, if you don’t ...’ We’ll leave it at that.”

Editor’s Note: More on MACC’s Oct. 12-13 immigration symposium will appear in the Nov. 23 edition of Today’s Catholic.