Illegal Immigration Part 1

I need to part with the conventional wisdom of conservatives here. I don't do that often, but what I observe in daily life is a lot different from what I am told on this issue.

Michelle Malkin is a great columnist, pundit, and blogger whose biggest pet peeve is illegal immigration. It is so big an issue with her that she devotes a second blog to it. I think she's great. She is, literally, my favorite blogger. But I disagree with her on this issue.

I spent four hours this morning doing some fund raising for Tennessee Right to Life. I stood in the intersection of two busy streets wearing a bright orange vest with the organization's name on it and holding a gallon milk jug with the front end sawed off so people could toss in loose change and cash. It went from rainy to hot and humid, and I was pretty much sustained by the idea that maybe, just maybe, Glenn Reynolds would drive by and photoblog me.

That didn't happen.

People tossed in coin, dollar bills, a few fives and a few twenties. It added up after awhile and I suspect our crew collected a couple thousand dollars in a few hours.

And all sorts of people drove by. Nobody was rude. I've caught obscene gestures on previous fundraising campaigns but not this time.

You know who stood out the most? The illegals. You knew who they were because they had dark skin and thick, straight, black hair. They had Latin American facial features, ragged work clothes, and drove cars I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. The car never had less than four occupants. Often, the only decent thing on the vehicle would be an Our Lady of Guadalupe decal on the back window.

Not once did these guys give me any change. Not once did they toss in a dollar bill.

They would throw in three to five dollars every time.

It made me think of one other time I had several interactions with illegals in a single day. A couple years ago, my boy was selling Boy Scout popcorn to raise funds for his troop and to put some money into his own camping account he kept with the troop. A boy who hustled during the popcorn sale could sometimes sell enough that he wouldn't have to pay to go on an outing all year; and my boy was hustling.

Hearing that truck drivers liked their munchies, we were trying to sell some at a truck stop. There were cars there and trucks. Parents with their kids would buy popcorn. Commuters would buy popcorn. Truckers would buy popcorn.

Illegals would come in there. They couldn't speak English, they looked broke, and they wouldn't buy popcorn. They wouldn't even touch the popcorn.

They would just give the boy money.

And I think about it. In Knoxville, I see illegals every day, generally doing work you couldn't pay a native born adult enough to even try and you couldn't get a teenager to do for more than a day. I've seen local people slacking sometimes, but I've never seen an illegal slacking.

I get hit-up by panhandlers every week or so. I've seen white panhandlers, black panhandlers, crazy panhandlers, druggy panhandlers, drunk panhandlers, and panhandlers just down on their luck. I've never seen an illegal panhandling in this town.

As far as I can tell, the only crime illegals commit is being here. They work hard. They are generous to others and especially kids, but frugal regarding themselves. They are unassuming and peaceable. They don't steal anybodies' jobs, but work hard at the jobs nobody else will do.

In my mind, they raise the quality of the community. I don't see what the problem is.

Oh... National Security.

I've got some thoughts on that, too. Tomorrow.