President Biden Signs Six Executive Orders on Immigration on his First Day in Office

Six out of 17 executive orders signed by President Biden after his inauguration on January 20 are aimed at sweeping aside former President Trump’s anti-immigration policies, finally giving immigrants and asylum seekers in the American and global community reason for hope.

With an executive order, Mr. Biden has bolstered the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program that protects immigrants brought to the U.S. as children, often called dreamers.  During his term as president, Mr. Trump tried to end the program, known as DACA.  President Biden’s order also calls on Congress to pass legislation that guarantees these young immigrants permanent status and a path to citizenship.

Another executive order revokes the Trump administration’s efforts to exclude non-citizens from the census count, denying them representation and federal services, and another overturns a Trump executive order that pushed aggressive efforts by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) to find and deport unauthorized immigrants.  Yet another order blocks the deportation of Liberians who have been living in the U.S.

In a blow to one of Trump’s earliest actions to limit immigration, Mr. Biden has also ended the so-called Muslim ban, which blocked travel to the U.S. from several majority Muslim and African countries.  Mr. Biden has authorized the State Department to restart visa processing for immigrants from the affected countries and to deal with the harm to those who were prevented from coming to the U.S. because of the ban.

President Biden has also halted construction on Trump’s border wall with Mexico, a rallying cry of Trump’s 2016 campaign.  The order includes an “immediate termination” of the national emergency declaration that allowed the Trump administration to redirect billions of dollars to the wall.  It also states that there will be “a close review” of the legality of Trump’s effort to divert federal money to fund the wall.



A Real Cowman: Portrait of a Migrant Farmworker

By Kathyrn Kramer from Vermont Almanac

Gabriel says that the way to help cows not be scared of you is to touch them. Lay a hand, be gentle – it cuts down on their stress. You don’t want cows stressed because then they give less milk and have more difficulty conceiving. Since cows learn to recognize people by their smell, not by their looks, the more often they smell you and the kinder you are, the more they trust you. Contrary to what many people think, cows are curious, intelligent creatures. Gabriel’s current favorite is a Brown Swiss named Charlotte, Charlo for short, because, among a herd of Holsteins, she’s unica, unique. Other than that he can’t really explain why – nor can one of the dairy owners, when I ask her if she knows. Just as with people or dogs, you like some better than others. I ask Gabriel if the Holsteins ostracize the few Jerseys and Brown Swiss among them, and he smiles at this ridiculous notion.

Twelve hours a day, six days a week, Gabriel checks up on a herd of 1,500 heifers, locating the ones who are in heat and ready to be bred. All the heifers wear in their ears a computer chip that communicates, among other things, how much the heifers are moving around. When they’re “running around like crazy,” chances are good they’re in heat. And when he first checks on the heifers in the morning, Gabriel carries a can of pink paint that he sprays on the rump of cows not already painted. Then he notes which cows have lost most of the paint they wore before. This occurs because other heifers, aware that another is in heat, are inspired to impersonate bulls and mount her. They rub against the paint and the paint comes off. I can’t help but wonder who thought of this – shall we say – interesting method. For those of us who grew up thinking that to milk cows you brought them in from the field, filled a bucket with milk, and dumped it into a bulk tank – not to mention persuaded a sometimes recalcitrant bull to fulfill his fatherly duty – this is a futuristic world.

Like all the larger dairy farms in the state, in order to survive this one has to work the economies of scale. With about 1,500 milkers, despite the sophistication of their own systems (the quantity of milk each cow gives is measured daily by computer), the owners still don’t know from month to month how much money they’ll be able to count on. Trying to comprehend the complex regulations governing the milk industry is more mind-warping than trying to make sense of the I.R.S. tax instructions. Says one of the owners, “There are only two people in the country who understand milk pricing, and one of them just died.” To be able to make a profit, the farms have to milk the cows three times each on a 24-hour cycle, so a lot of help is needed.

Modest, unassuming, completely reliable, with a gently wry outlook on the world, Gabriel is a trusted and valued employee, one of a dozen or so migrant workers on this farm, and one of the between twelve and fifteen hundred in the state. Without them, the dairy industry, which has steadily declined since its high point in the 1920s when there were almost 30,000 dairy farms, would collapse. In Vermont there are now around 650 dairy farms, large and small. As one of the owners says, there are not enough people locally who want to do this work: the long hours for the kind of pay that the industry can afford. The situation is manageable for these workers, as most of them are provided housing as well as a paycheck, much of which they send back home. (There are a few workers in Vermont from places like Honduras and Guatemala, but the great majority are from Mexico.) Few of the workers at Gabriel’s farm have cars, so once a week a farm van drives them to a local grocery store. Some favorite foods that they can’t buy there – certain kinds of chiles, for example, or canned cactus – are supplied by someone who travels around peddling to farm workers. It used to be you could tell when the local workers had been to the grocery store because all the corn tortillas would be gone, but somewhere along the line the management has seen fit to order a lot more.

When Gabriel first came to this farm, he milked and cleaned the barns for three years. Says one of the owners, “He’s very talented. It’s like being an artist: either you have a feel for it or you don’t. Gabriel is a real cowman.” The owners have a vested interest in keeping Gabriel learning and stimulated, so he was sent to “breeding school,” where besides learning how to inseminate the heifers he learned how to give shots and check their feet to see if they need their hooves trimmed. He inseminates between five and ten heifers a day, and on Fridays forty or more. On that day he has help, because it’s hard, tiring work. But it’s critical work. Cows who don’t get pregnant end up on the beef truck.

Gabriel has been in the US now for 14 years. The first two he spent in North Carolina, working in construction, which he liked, but during the recession of 2008 the work was cut back to two or three days a week and an uncle who worked in Vermont told him about a job opening here. Besides being good at his job, he likes cows – and he likes the state. Just like Guerrero, the state in Mexico where he’s from, Vermont is mountainous and still part wild. There are many of the same animals in Guerrero: deer, raccoons, skunks, squirrels – although no chipmunks or wild turkeys. And there, he tells me, there’s a kind of mosquito that makes honey. When Gabriel was young he and his friends would look for their nests on trees to collect the sweet treat. “Are they really mosquitoes?” I ask, making a buzzing noise. We have that kind too, he says, but these are different. “Not wasps? Avispas?” “No, we call them mosquitoes,” he says. Sensing my skepticism, he had a friend at home take a video to show me: the mosquito crouched on a tree and, nestled in the bark beside it, its tiny golden-colored nest which it closes up at night.

When I asked him once how he learned so much about the natural world, he said, “Los abuelos.” All the grandparents in town. Town is a village of 20 to 25 houses. Gabriel’s daughter, who is 15, lives there with Gabriel’s mother. Her own mother is in another town, because that’s where she can make a living. There’s little work for anyone there. To keep in touch, Gabriel and his daughter talk by phone or video-chat a couple of times a week. She’s in school and is interested in computers but just as in many remote locations in Vermont the internet there is unreliable. Gabriel currently has no plans to go back, though he says he supposes he will one day.

He would like to have a farm of his own, but he owns no land and the land in Guerrero is very expensive. Many of the men who have returned from the US farm corn, but it’s subsistence living. Here, Gabriel likes the work, though the winters can be difficult, when so many things are frozen. He doesn’t complain about his circumstances – about feeling encerrado (literally, encircled), unable to move around safely outside of the farm. Like Gabriel, most of the workers are here without their families and haven’t seen spouses and children for many years. And rarely are they able to get to know people off the farms or meet a spouse, if they haven’t one. If the immigration laws were to change, Gabriel would like to stay and bring his daughter to live here. So would many of the other workers. In a state that urgently needs more young people to start and nurture families here, one would think that providing these essential workers with visas, if not citizenship, and welcoming them into aging communities would make sense. Yet, despite Vermont’s having been in the vanguard of a number of political and social advances over its history, immigration laws are under federal purview, so it’s not up to us. —Kathyrn Kramer

Separated: Inside an American Tragedy – a book review by Margaret Blanchard

In this book, recently published by Harper Collins, NBC news correspondent Jacob Soboroff documents the current administration’s policy of separating refugee children from their parents at the southern border between the U.S. and Mexico – imprisoning and traumatizing thousands of children and parents fleeing environmental disasters and gang violence in Central America.  Facing this influx of refugees, Obama, during his time in office, did deport people and even separated some children from their parents or someone who presented as a guardian (but) only when officials were concerned for their safety.”  (Heather Cox Richardson, “Letter from an American”).  In addition, the Obama administration provided environmental aid to the refugees’ home countries, whereas the Trump administration cut off all such assistance to Central America, and implemented the practice of separating all parents and children, sending them into different prisons, believing that family separation would serve as a deterrent to potential refugees.

Imagine traveling on foot with your family members across more than two thousand miles of desert, evading gang violence, kidnapping, hunger and thirst, to reach safety – only to be separated from each other at the border, thrown into prisons as far apart as California and Florida.  And in many cases with no record of anyone’s whereabouts or relations.  Half of these children who were severed from their guardians are under ten years old, and more than a quarter are under five.

This puts me in mind of my father, a World War II veteran who helped liberate the Buchenwald concentration camp, describing the survivors as “walking skeletons.”  Our shocking and shameful policies appear dangerously close to replicating the conditions in such concentration camps as accounts of sterilization, unsafe conditions, molestation and assault, inadequate medical care, lack of advocacy or access to basic information abound.  These policies are grievously close to some of the criminal practices of our past: enslaving people, treating them as property, separating them from family, selling them to others, often in dangerous situations, without access to their names or locations.  Or the inhumane practice of stealing Native American children from their families and forcing them to attend Christian boarding schools designed to shame and punish them for speaking their own language, for engaging in their own cultural practices or spiritual traditions, and destroying actual connections with their relations.  Or imprisoning Japanese-Americans during WW II.

The psychological damage caused by this current cutting off and caging of minors is described by Dr. Colleen Craft, head of the American Academy of Pediatrics: “Studies overwhelmingly demonstrate the irreparable harm caused by breaking up families.  Prolonged exposure to highly stressful situations – known as toxic stress – can disrupt a child’s brain architecture and affect his or her short- and long-term health.  A parent or a known caregiver’s role is to mitigate this dangers.  When robbed of that buffer, children are susceptible to learning deficits and chronic conditions such as depression, post-traumatic stress disorder, and even heart disease.” (p.245)

Added to the trauma of the separation is the incompetence of the system.  When the current administration decided, for legal and political reasons, to end the practice of separation, they couldn’t rectify the situation because they hadn’t kept accurate records of who and where the parents or guardians were.  Some had been deported, some had been released, and some were in prisons in other states.  Yet the Department of Homeland Security had no system set up for identifying their connections, tracking their locations, or reuniting them with their children.  Instead a system of cruelty compounded by incompetence has guaranteed the traumatization of thousands of desperate and courageous refugees and their children.  Physicians for Human rights has called the practice of family separation “torture.”

Groups like the Angry Tias and Abuelas in Texas, and the ACLU have provided some financial and legal help to those in detention, but they have little power under this administration to reunite families.  The Central Vermont Refugee Action Network (along with other volunteer organizations throughout Vermont) has provided assistance to refugees and asylum seekers, but the pandemic and its financial and legal consequences have slowed the process.  To avoid the humanitarian disaster folded into these environmental and political challenges, we need to face this tragedy head on.  This book offers a first step: a revelation of the abuse, and the subsequent and urgent need to identify the locations of the imprisoned children and their caretakers so they can be reunited as soon as possible.




Reading to End Racism Offers Online Resources for Children and Those Who Work with Them

Until Covid-19, volunteers with Central Vermont Reading to End Racism were going into elementary school classrooms to read high quality children’s books with students as a way of illuminating and discussing issues of multiculturalism, equity, racism, and immigration.  The goal is to raise awareness of the harm racism causes and help develop strategies to actively counter racism in order to create a supportive and welcoming environment for all children.

Now that Central Vermont Reading to End Racism volunteers can no longer go into local schools, the group has created a list of links to children’s books and videos that are free and available online with other people reading the books.  Reading to End Racism has many of these links posted now and more resources will be added throughout the year.

If you are a parent, grandparent, or teacher and want to create meaningful home instruction on vital themes while connecting school learning to a love of books and reading, check out the blogspot now so you can look for good books and ideas about how to use them with children.  Purchase the books yourself at your local bookstore.  Give them as presents and read them aloud.  Share the blogspot address with its list of video links on your social media sites with other families and with teachers.  Check back regularly to see what has been added, or sign up for email notifications.

The blogspot is divided into books from grades K-3 and 3-5.  For each book there is an introduction for teachers and parents, suggested topics for discussion, and a link to the video reading.

The address for the blogspot is



How Canadian Court Ruling Could Impact Migration Patterns in Northern New England

On NPR’s New England News Collaborative it was reported that in July Canada’s Federal Court ruled the United States is no longer a safe place for refugees.  The court condemned the treatment of asylum seekers at U.S. detention centers and said the Safe Third Country Agreement between the two countries in now unconstitutional.

The agreement in question says both Canada and the United States are safe for refugees.  That means when someone seeks asylum in either country, they have to stay there – the first safe country they arrived in.  If they try to cross from one country to the other, they’re immediately sent back.  But the Canadian Federal Court ruling would change that.  The court states that sending refugees back to the U.S. is a violation of Canada’s human rights charter and says refugees should instead be allowed to pass over the border, possibly impacting migration routes in northern New England.

“A very close ally of ours – another country that’s been known for its human rights protections – is recognizing that this country, the United States, is no longer a safe place for people,” says Erin Jacobson, a professor and director of the immigration clinic at Vermont School.  “That we’re not honoring our International and domestic obligations to protect refugees.”

Independent producer Lorne Matalon reported this story and asked both the U.S. Department o Justice and Department of Homeland Security to comment on the Canadian Court’s ruling.  The DOJ declined comment; DHS did not repost.

The government of Canada is appealing the Federal Court Ruling.  The Safe Third Country Agreement remains in effect until that appeal is settled.


27 Vermont Refugees Tell Their Stories in New Book

Suddenly You Are Nobody: Vermont Refugees Tell Their Stories by Jared Grange, published by Huntington Graphics in Burlington, gives a broad and vivid picture of Vermont’s refugee communities.

The people we read about came to Vermont from Bhutan, Nepal, Russia, Bosnia, China, Ecuador, Somalia, Sudan, Syria, Tibet, Vietnam, Mexico, Palestine, China, Democratic Republic of Congo, Rwanda, Burundi, and Iraq.  Their road here was long and dangerous.   Most of them were escaping oppression, persecution and war, yet they still miss their lives in their own countries.  They still miss home

Slavojka Avdibegovic, a refugee from Bosnia with her husband Kenan, gives voice to the feelings of others:  “You live normal life.  Suddenly you are nobody. Yesterday everybody knows you, knows about you.  Next day you are no one.  You are low, below low.”  She is talking about her experience and her husband’s in a UN refugee camp during the Bosnian War after Serbian artillery shells destroyed their apartment and left Kenan a paraplegic.  Yet in 1996 they made it to the United States, to Burlington where they made a rich life for themselves, with family and friends, and work they love.

The sections on each country’s refugees begin with an introduction about the country’s history and upheavals  – the circumstances that led people to flee and establish new lives among us.  Numerous full-color photographs illustrate these moving and courageous stories.


Local Migrant Farm Workers Struggle To Stay Safe During Pandemic

Thelma Gomez, a member of the Vermont migrant community and an  organizer with Migrant Justice states that grueling work schedules, limited access to medical care, language barriers, and cramped housing all contribute to farmworkers’ vulnerability to Covid19.  “Multiple workers share the same room and if one gets sick there’s no way for them to self-isolate or to keep others from getting sick,” she says.

In addition, undocumented workers don’t receive stimulus checks from the Federal government nor do they qualify for unemployment.  If a dairy farm closes or downsizes – and many farms have been struggling during the pandemic – these workers may find themselves homeless.  Yet they are essential to the production of milk on dairy farms throughout the state.

Migrant Justice continues to represent the rights of farmworkers and to fight for their dignity, and many other organizations throughout Vermont are also involved, contributing transportation, food and clothing, and language support.   The struggle continues.