It is Sunday night, and I am watching a video on Facebook. Six thousand people are crossing the Honduras-Guatemala border on their way to the United States. COVID restrictions have not stopped them from embarking on their journey. Neither has the Guatemalan police. Neither have their beatings.

A year and a half ago, I crossed that border too, but my arms got no bruises and running was not necessary. In fact, I did not even notice I was crossing that line because I was sleeping almost 33,000 feet above sea level. I was still napping when I crossed the Mexico-U.S. border, the “final” obstacle for those who just want to be in the land of the American Dream.

We were told that we could achieve the Dream on the other side of the wall – no matter who you are or where you come from, if you work hard enough, you will achieve the good life … but on back home, dreams do not even dare to exist. When I say “us”, I include myself on those six thousand people because we come from the same side of the wall, even though our backpacks looked quite different when we crossed the borders. Mine was not full of tuna cans and water bottles, but of books.

Back home, my classmate Gabi told me that he always had to carry a book in his backpack when shopping downtown. Otherwise, he would not be able to get rid of the police officers who would stop him every time and ask where he was going simply because he did not match the social landscape of the mall area. Even though he was shopping, he had to show that book and say he was on his way to college. That way, they would leave him alone. That book was his alibi.

In bed, I keep watching the video. People run and are beaten by the police. They scream and are beaten. Before turning the light off, I wonder: are books a more laudable motivation than hunger?

This column will question the culture that believes in praising and valuing merit without considering the unearned conditions – race, gender, birthplace, etc. – which provide opportunities to even attain societal merit. This is a space where I will experiment with my impressions of this country, in this moment, when so many are addressing the validity of meritocracy. I am writing not only from the perspective of a Latino woman living in the United States, but also a border-crosser of language, culture, and socio-economic status.

Alba Fernández is a Spanish teacher from Argentina working as a teaching assistant at the University of Maine at Farmington.

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