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As of this week, 130 migrant children taken under the cruel practice of child separation have yet to be reunited their families, and despite court orders and stated changes in policy, children continue to be taken from their families, sometimes for no reason beyond a prior immigration violation or the inability of their parents to produce a birth certificate.

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US government photo

Almost 15,000 children remain imprisoned in detention centers and camps.  Almost two dozen have died there. Others have been abused.  All have had their freedom and their childhoods stolen.  Migrant children seeking asylum have been subjected to tear gas.

But for the most part, we’ve stopped hearing about the cruel treatment of migrant children and families.  News stories have become hard to find.  It is as if, having heard it all before, the public has grown accustomed to the reality of state sponsored cruelty to children. We have stopped paying attention.  Instead, we are consumed with the ludicrous proposal to erect and maintain a wall across thousands of miles of rough terrain, and with alarmist falsehoods about terrorists coming over the southern border (they are not).

Policies that persecute migrant children are not new in the United States, but they have been taken to a new level.  We cannot allow ourselves to forget or to turn away from the pain these policies cause, or to imagine the problem is solved simply because we are not hearing about it.

This is what has been in my heart these last few weeks, and as so often happens, the words and melody of a song came to mind.  In this case it was an old song, written by Robert Lowry in 1877:

Where is my boy tonight?
Where is my boy tonight?
My heart o’er flows for I love him, he knows
Where is my boy tonight?

Over and over, those words ran through my head.  I sang them through tears, until at last I found myself adapting the old words into something quite new:

Where is my stolen child tonight
The child that I love so dear
To save his sweet life we came in flight
But they took him away in tears                                         

Chorus:
  Oh, where is my boy tonight?
  Oh where is my boy tonight?
  My heart o’er flows for I love him, he knows
  Oh, where is my boy tonight?

We came here alone, afraid and poor
My child playing at my knee
No face was as bright, no heart so pure
And none was so sweet as he

Oh, could I hold you now, my child
Six months we’ve been torn apart
Oh, could I hear your voice so mild
And heal my poor breaking heart

Bring me my stolen child tonight
Please look for him where you will
And if he should come into your sight
Tell him I love him still

  ¿Donde está mi hijo?
  ¿Donde está mi hijo?
  Se rompe mi corazón, por que lo amo
  ¿Donde está mi hijo?

On the night that President Trump declared a “crisis of the soul” at the border, I sat in my living room and recorded a simple video of this song, as a reminder to myself and others of our real crisis of the soul.

Where are the stolen children tonight?  What will we do to return them to their families? How will we change as a people because of what we have done?  How will we end the cruelty, and make sure that we are never again complicit?

Where is my boy tonight?

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