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JESSIE PARKS

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Fire Under All Our Hind Ends

February 02, 2017

Dear friends, not to by any means make light of Friday's political happenings and your reasonable conclusion on one side or the other, or to curtail your righteous anger or proud "whoo-rah" for the prez...

But could it be that maybe—just maybe—the recent "upheaval" is a necessary (perhaps, then, good—can I say that??) fire under all our hind ends to take action? And I don’t just mean action like powerful poster protests, social media weigh in's, or healthy debates around the kitchen table—but to do what has been your responsibility all along? Perhaps channel all that passion and time given to participate and drive to and from public demonstrations or debates to instead go and care for the sojourners today: feed them, invite them in, *listen* to them, clothe them, and look after them. Imagine how different the world would be if each of us—you—did all you're able with your five loaves and two fish.

Atlanta, email me. I can connect you to plenty of refugees who are feeling very vulnerable and fearful in the wake of all this—they need you. Please make them the priority. (Also, odds are they’ll feed you a feast! Ha!)

If you're not in Atlanta, see link in my profile for a list of refugee aid organizations possibly near you.

@natebramsen said it beautifully:
"Do we actually care more about refugees (and each other) or just about making a raucous?

If you are aching, as I am, GO TO THEM!...

Hundreds of refugees STILL come into the USA daily. When was the last time you invited a refugee INTO your home for a home-cooked meal? How many refugees' phone numbers do you have in your contacts? How much does YOUR lifestyle CHANGE because you ache for refugees to be well cared for and compassionately loved? When did you last offer to tutor a refugee in English?
.
Have we become a nation where carrying a sign is noble, but caring for your neighbor is virtually unheard of? What changes opinions more effectively? Protests insulting leadership or people demonstrating sacrificial love? Are we ready to live loud lives of love?
.
Change doesn't start in the White House. It starts in my house."

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Jessie's Blog

Latest Posts

Blog
Missteps
about 2 years ago
I Would Blow God Away
about 2 years ago
I Asked a Syrian Refugee What We Can Do
about 2 years ago
Fire Under All Our Hind Ends
about 2 years ago
International Holocaust Remembrance Day
about 2 years ago
Hedges and Stops
about 2 years ago
His Sorrow is Splendor
about 2 years ago
Holy Temple of Lalish
about 2 years ago
I’m Not Daesh
about 2 years ago
Her Chador Was Longer Than She Was Tall
about 2 years ago

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(Part 1/2) This is long, but important. . It was 2015 when we became friends—or family really, I should say. It was just shy a month after they’d turned up in Clarkson from Kandahar that my friend Luane called to see if I’d join for a meal and chai on their apartment floor. There were eight of them then; there were nine of them now, thanks to Marwa Aslami’s 2017 birth. . Some of you may recall photos I shared while documenting their first year in America. Hekmat, the father, worked in Afghanistan for the U.S. Army as a journalist. They were granted special asylum in the U.S. after countless Taliban threats on account of his job. But it was also because of his job that he “understood” (damn near invited) my camera into their new American life. What a privilege I’m unworthy of. . Many of you gave much that first year to help, from clothes to cars to computers. Those were unforgettable days. Thank you. . For two years Hekmat worked “part time” at the Marshall’s warehouse in Georgia, clocking well over 40 hours with overtime, yet without benefits or proper pay. I do not know if anything unlawful took place; that is not why I write. But in short, his wife, Waheeda, was (and still is) unexplainably ill, fainting often. Around the time Marwa was born, their Food Stamps were cut. Grocery bills then piled atop the already exorbitant medical bills. . Hekmat got word of better work in California . . . and medical aid. It’s a no brainer; any loving father of seven would pack up and go. So they did, about nine months ago. Four days and three nights from Georgia to California, sleeping atop a Penske rental truck and their silver minivan to keep cool at night. The children are the first to lament their now (very) lonely two-bedroom one-bath apartment El Cajon. . (Continue in next post)
(Part 2/2) Now, as much as Hekmat has aimed to acclimate to the newfound ways of the West, one cannot easily dismantle a lifelong framework upon which their understanding of the world and God are built. It is hard for most of us to imagine living straddled between two cultures, or to be a kid growing up making a bed in the East, yet dining on plastic trays in lunchrooms full of Westerners. . Detaching from the world your father fled from could bring unbearable shame, yet so would holding back from the one he brought you to. Are you American or Afghan? More white or more black? Do you disclose that you’re Muslim, or is it assumed—and if so, what do folks make of it? Maddening! . And isn’t it true that when things uncontrollable hurt down deep, you and I are quick to grab ahold of something—anything!—to make it stop? Maybe it’s food or sex or drink or work or the applause of important people. It isn’t right, but understandably human. For Sam Aslami, the eldest son, it was fast cars. . So back in March he drove fast, real fast. So fast that he flipped that silver minivan three times on Avocado Avenue, throwing himself and three other boys out the windows just moments before it slammed into a telephone poll and engulfed in flames. . “God gave me a second chance,” Sam told Luane and me with tears last week at the rehab center. “I’m alive! I’m suppose to be dead. They don’t know how I made it.” . How true it is—for him and for all the boys that were in the van. . Sam and I talked about that story Jesus told about the prodigal boy and some pigsty: that it wasn’t when the boy made up his mind to go home that his life changed—it was when his father threw his arms around him. It makes no sense to be loved like that, Sam and I decided. But could there be anything better? No, not even the fastest cars or the strongest drink. . So can I ask you, would to pray again for the Aslamis . . . if you’re the prayin’ kind? Sam may never walk again. Pray for his health, for Hekmat’s work, and for all their hearts. . Thank you.
Holy Trinity Anglican Church in Dubai, U.A.E. March 2019
Yours truly on some rocks in Hawaii. Pops (@glennardp) took this, y’all. Also, tonight he told me he’s gon’ get it printed for a frame! 🌊🔲 Solo shot of Jesser chillin’ on the wall?? 🙋🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️ k? Ooo, or how about over the mantle?! 🤣🥴 . Give it a left swipe for shots of the fambly and such. We s’cute. #melekalikimaka #christmastan #hawaii
Laura Paul, the director of lowernine.org, at her home in New Orleans’ Lower Ninth Ward neighborhood. . In 2005 all homes were uninhabitable after the flooding that followed Hurricane Katrina.  The displaced were largely working-class black families, some of whom had owned the title to their land since emancipation.  Laura and her team work to help these displaced Americans rebuild their homes; but in the 13 years since Katrina, only about 1 in 3 of them have been able to return. April 2018 #americanjourneys
A few men a couple doors down from the mechanics in Soran, Iraqi Kurdistan. I don’t recall if it was before or after the photograph was taken when the gentleman in the truck bed pointed out the beauty of the sun hovering atop those mountains. August 2, 2017.
(2/2) But despite the arrival of some 20,000 Bosnian immigrants since the 1990s, and the assiduous courting of international businesses like Monsanto, the arrival rate of new immigrants into the area still barely matches the rate of those moving out. Racism is also a problem: St.Louis remains highly segregated: only 6% of residents are foreign-born. . And while welcoming newcomers is certainly key to St Louis’ renewal, that welcome is becoming increasingly difficult to offer due to national policy changes, which have curtailed refugee resettlement programs and jammed up visa pipelines. . So as we left the city, despite the best efforts of those we met to convince us otherwise, we were still asking each other that same question: just how do you get St.Louis to grow again? . #americanjourneys . Words @katylongsf Follow us @americanjourneysproject
(1/2) How do you stop a city’s slow decline? That question is one that preoccupies St.Louis. Since the population peaked in 1950 — at just over 850,000 — the city has lost nearly two-thirds of its residents, a higher percentage than any other US city. Today, St.Louis’ population stands at  just 320,000.  Many of these former city residents have moved only as far as the suburbs, but even in the metropolitan area growth is stagnant. The result is a city that feels hollowed out, with an air of abandoned gentility as we pass boarded up Victorian redbricks. . One answer may be to appeal to more immigrants.  In 2013, St.Louis pinned its hopes of urban renewal on attracting more foreign-born residents to the area, and charged Betsy Cohen with the task of coordinating these efforts to revitalize the city through immigration. Over three days in St.Louis we heard from many of those working alongside her, hoping to make St.Louis the fastest growing city for immigration in the US by 2020. . There are many attractions. Housing is cheap; businesses are eager to recruit talent; there are grants for entrepreneurs. . And I want to believe this will work. . #americanjourneys . Words by @katylongsf . Follow us @americanjourneysproject
One hundred immigrants from 22 countries take the oath of allegiance at a Roanoke citizenship ceremony in the state where America began. . My friend, Katy Long, and I listen as immigrants, young and old, share their hearts and stories of what it means to become an American. "Some fled civil war and dictatorship,” Katy writes, "others endured long years of separation from parents or spouses before being reunited. All share the sentiment that one man attempts to put into words: ‘Thank-you . . . it’s been a long 17 years. But we finally made it.’ . There’s not a dry eye in the room. And in this courtroom, at least for this hour, the American dream lives on." (April 20, 2018) . @americanjourneysproject #americanjourneys @katylongsf . Link in profile for more.
Australian archaeologist, Dr. Karin Sowada, walks the cobblestone streets of Old City Jerusalem the day before 2,000 Anglicans from over 50 countries convened for the third Global Anglican Future Conference. June 2018
I thoroughly enjoyed this fella at Ellis Island, both his eagle-eyes on my lens and his genuine love for this great nation of immigrants and the island’s incredible intake of global seafarers from 1892-1954. We have much to learn from history, friends. May we never forget it; may we be made better by it. #americanjourneys . Happy Independence Day! Hope you’re enjoying all things Americana—or at least a tall glass of Coke-Cola. xx . @americanjourneysproject #brexit1776 #eagleeye #punintended @katylongsf
More to come, but here’s some Nigerian friends in Israel at the Dead Sea.
This is my dad at 70. Today is his birthday. . Lord knows why, but I remember the year he was 46, and talking about it at school with friends. It was 1994; I was 9. I don't remember thinking then about the day he'd be 70, but I do remember thinking then that there was no one quite like him. I was so proud to call him mine. . And, you know, a lot has changed since 1994—but still I believe there is no one like him. . Thanks for all the shrimp and grits, daddy—and for the music, and the endless welcome you extend to all. But more than that, thanks for loving me no matter what. Happy, happy 70th. Here's to you! . xoxo
(2/2) Crossing into Mexicali we meet Jando. Jando has been deported three times from the US, having arrived illegally as a teenager and then being arrested for minor crimes. Jando claims he has no interest in returning a fourth time to the US.  But he’s an unreliable narrator: he praises  Sinaloa crime boss Joaquín Guzmán Loera, and has track marks running up his arms.  Five minutes after we finish talking to him, we see him again, with a bloodied nose.  It’s a reminder that the border has a dark side: that the cartels who control drug and people smuggling also bring violence and addiction to the streets. . Follow @americanjourneysproject . Words @katylongsf Photos @missjessieparks
(1/2) Our final stop at the US-Mexico border is in Calexico, where everyone speaks Spanish. Calexico, USA is essentially a suburb of much larger Mexicali, Mexico: locals tell us you could move the border five miles north and no one would notice. At the border on a Monday morning, we meet school girls waiting for their friends, and workers hurrying to their offices.  Many have green cards and some are even US citizens, but these border commuters live in Mexico - where money goes further — and work and study in the US. . For more follow @americanjourneysproject . Words @katylongsf Photos @missjessieparks
Despite all the headlines about building a wall, there’s already a 15ft fence dividing the US from Mexico. I first saw it snaking across the desert an hour east of San Diego. This is the same wall — a  line of rust-red metal stakes — that I had already seen in a thousand news reports, but the vast and empty skies brought new perspective, as did the desert stretching far out to the horizon on either side.  We were there with Border Angels — a  humanitarian NGO — who drops water for the migrants who pick there way across this scrubland in the dark. Hugo, our guide, told us that coyotes today charge about $7000 for the journey from Tijuana to LA. . #americanjourneys . Words @katylongsf For more follow us @americanjourneysproject
Even when listening to the most provocative threats made by President Trump, any fear non-white American citizens could ever be forcibly deported seems like hysterical fantasy. But it is also historical fact. Between 1929 and 1936, up to 1.2 million Americans — US citizens — were forcibly “repatriated” to their “home” in Mexico. Many did not even speak Spanish. Los Angeles city — with the largest populations of Mexicans outside Mexico — played a leading role, deporting 400,000 Mexicans. Many were forcibly rounded up in raids based upon their appearance, and sent across the border with a total lack of due process. Yet as the pace of deportation speeded up in the 1930s, efforts were underway to make Olvera Street, at the heart of Los Angeles’ Mexican barrio, into a tourist-kitsch calle to fit with white Americans’ romanticized version of Mexican culture — despite the fact that at the same time, Mexicans were being forcibly removed from the very same street. . #americanjourneys . Words by @katylongsf For more follow @americanjourneysproject . #everydaylafrontera #lafrontera #borderwall #defineamerican
Pastor James Trammell of Columbus Street Baptist Church in Bakersfield, California. . @americanjourneysproject
Bakersfield’s surroundings are breathtaking: smoky mountains on the horizon, almond trees blossoming along the arrow-straight highway. This city is proudly conservative, a dot of red in a sea of blue. This is in part because Bakersfield’s legacy is tied more to Oklahoma than California. In the 1930s, a million “Okies” fled the economic destitution of the dustbowl, working as migrant laborers in the surrounding fields, many dependent upon federal housing — like that provided at Sunset camp, made famous by John Steinbeck in The Grapes of Wrath. Their descendants stayed and prospered, but many of them — like Pastor James — are reluctant to draw parallels between the Okies’ poverty and the struggle of migrant laborers working in the fields today. . Words by @katylongsf For more, follow @americanjourneysproject as we travel across the country unraveling America’s immigration story.
(Part 1/2) This is long, but important. . It was 2015 when we became friends—or family really, I should say. It was just shy a month after they’d turned up in Clarkson from Kandahar that my friend Luane called to see if I’d join for a meal and chai on their apartment floor. There were eight of them then; there were nine of them now, thanks to Marwa Aslami’s 2017 birth. . Some of you may recall photos I shared while documenting their first year in America. Hekmat, the father, worked in Afghanistan for the U.S. Army as a journalist. They were granted special asylum in the U.S. after countless Taliban threats on account of his job. But it was also because of his job that he “understood” (damn near invited) my camera into their new American life. What a privilege I’m unworthy of. . Many of you gave much that first year to help, from clothes to cars to computers. Those were unforgettable days. Thank you. . For two years Hekmat worked “part time” at the Marshall’s warehouse in Georgia, clocking well over 40 hours with overtime, yet without benefits or proper pay. I do not know if anything unlawful took place; that is not why I write. But in short, his wife, Waheeda, was (and still is) unexplainably ill, fainting often. Around the time Marwa was born, their Food Stamps were cut. Grocery bills then piled atop the already exorbitant medical bills. . Hekmat got word of better work in California . . . and medical aid. It’s a no brainer; any loving father of seven would pack up and go. So they did, about nine months ago. Four days and three nights from Georgia to California, sleeping atop a Penske rental truck and their silver minivan to keep cool at night. The children are the first to lament their now (very) lonely two-bedroom one-bath apartment El Cajon. . (Continue in next post) (Part 2/2) Now, as much as Hekmat has aimed to acclimate to the newfound ways of the West, one cannot easily dismantle a lifelong framework upon which their understanding of the world and God are built. It is hard for most of us to imagine living straddled between two cultures, or to be a kid growing up making a bed in the East, yet dining on plastic trays in lunchrooms full of Westerners. . Detaching from the world your father fled from could bring unbearable shame, yet so would holding back from the one he brought you to. Are you American or Afghan? More white or more black? Do you disclose that you’re Muslim, or is it assumed—and if so, what do folks make of it? Maddening! . And isn’t it true that when things uncontrollable hurt down deep, you and I are quick to grab ahold of something—anything!—to make it stop? Maybe it’s food or sex or drink or work or the applause of important people. It isn’t right, but understandably human. For Sam Aslami, the eldest son, it was fast cars. . So back in March he drove fast, real fast. So fast that he flipped that silver minivan three times on Avocado Avenue, throwing himself and three other boys out the windows just moments before it slammed into a telephone poll and engulfed in flames. . “God gave me a second chance,” Sam told Luane and me with tears last week at the rehab center. “I’m alive! I’m suppose to be dead. They don’t know how I made it.” . How true it is—for him and for all the boys that were in the van. . Sam and I talked about that story Jesus told about the prodigal boy and some pigsty: that it wasn’t when the boy made up his mind to go home that his life changed—it was when his father threw his arms around him. It makes no sense to be loved like that, Sam and I decided. But could there be anything better? No, not even the fastest cars or the strongest drink. . So can I ask you, would to pray again for the Aslamis . . . if you’re the prayin’ kind? Sam may never walk again. Pray for his health, for Hekmat’s work, and for all their hearts. . Thank you. Holy Trinity Anglican Church in Dubai, U.A.E. March 2019
Me shooting in the deserts of Dubai. Rare footage brought to you by @edidot. Thanks bro! . Not a single clue what the heck I’m yippin’ about. But I really appreciate the camels, the kebab, and the little man following me around repeatedly offering medium-sized sand filled jars with my name inside. . Just kidding. Camels and kebab FTW only. #dubai 🐫🐑
Yours truly on some rocks in Hawaii. Pops (@glennardp) took this, y’all. Also, tonight he told me he’s gon’ get it printed for a frame! 🌊🔲 Solo shot of Jesser chillin’ on the wall?? 🙋🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️ k? Ooo, or how about over the mantle?! 🤣🥴 . Give it a left swipe for shots of the fambly and such. We s’cute. #melekalikimaka #christmastan #hawaii Laura Paul, the director of lowernine.org, at her home in New Orleans’ Lower Ninth Ward neighborhood. . In 2005 all homes were uninhabitable after the flooding that followed Hurricane Katrina.  The displaced were largely working-class black families, some of whom had owned the title to their land since emancipation.  Laura and her team work to help these displaced Americans rebuild their homes; but in the 13 years since Katrina, only about 1 in 3 of them have been able to return. April 2018 #americanjourneys A few men a couple doors down from the mechanics in Soran, Iraqi Kurdistan. I don’t recall if it was before or after the photograph was taken when the gentleman in the truck bed pointed out the beauty of the sun hovering atop those mountains. August 2, 2017. (2/2) But despite the arrival of some 20,000 Bosnian immigrants since the 1990s, and the assiduous courting of international businesses like Monsanto, the arrival rate of new immigrants into the area still barely matches the rate of those moving out. Racism is also a problem: St.Louis remains highly segregated: only 6% of residents are foreign-born. . And while welcoming newcomers is certainly key to St Louis’ renewal, that welcome is becoming increasingly difficult to offer due to national policy changes, which have curtailed refugee resettlement programs and jammed up visa pipelines. . So as we left the city, despite the best efforts of those we met to convince us otherwise, we were still asking each other that same question: just how do you get St.Louis to grow again? . #americanjourneys . Words @katylongsf Follow us @americanjourneysproject (1/2) How do you stop a city’s slow decline? That question is one that preoccupies St.Louis. Since the population peaked in 1950 — at just over 850,000 — the city has lost nearly two-thirds of its residents, a higher percentage than any other US city. Today, St.Louis’ population stands at  just 320,000.  Many of these former city residents have moved only as far as the suburbs, but even in the metropolitan area growth is stagnant. The result is a city that feels hollowed out, with an air of abandoned gentility as we pass boarded up Victorian redbricks. . One answer may be to appeal to more immigrants.  In 2013, St.Louis pinned its hopes of urban renewal on attracting more foreign-born residents to the area, and charged Betsy Cohen with the task of coordinating these efforts to revitalize the city through immigration. Over three days in St.Louis we heard from many of those working alongside her, hoping to make St.Louis the fastest growing city for immigration in the US by 2020. . There are many attractions. Housing is cheap; businesses are eager to recruit talent; there are grants for entrepreneurs. . And I want to believe this will work. . #americanjourneys . Words by @katylongsf . Follow us @americanjourneysproject One hundred immigrants from 22 countries take the oath of allegiance at a Roanoke citizenship ceremony in the state where America began. . My friend, Katy Long, and I listen as immigrants, young and old, share their hearts and stories of what it means to become an American. "Some fled civil war and dictatorship,” Katy writes, "others endured long years of separation from parents or spouses before being reunited. All share the sentiment that one man attempts to put into words: ‘Thank-you . . . it’s been a long 17 years. But we finally made it.’ . There’s not a dry eye in the room. And in this courtroom, at least for this hour, the American dream lives on." (April 20, 2018) . @americanjourneysproject #americanjourneys @katylongsf . Link in profile for more. Australian archaeologist, Dr. Karin Sowada, walks the cobblestone streets of Old City Jerusalem the day before 2,000 Anglicans from over 50 countries convened for the third Global Anglican Future Conference. June 2018 I thoroughly enjoyed this fella at Ellis Island, both his eagle-eyes on my lens and his genuine love for this great nation of immigrants and the island’s incredible intake of global seafarers from 1892-1954. We have much to learn from history, friends. May we never forget it; may we be made better by it. #americanjourneys . Happy Independence Day! Hope you’re enjoying all things Americana—or at least a tall glass of Coke-Cola. xx . @americanjourneysproject #brexit1776 #eagleeye #punintended @katylongsf More to come, but here’s some Nigerian friends in Israel at the Dead Sea. This is my dad at 70. Today is his birthday. . Lord knows why, but I remember the year he was 46, and talking about it at school with friends. It was 1994; I was 9. I don't remember thinking then about the day he'd be 70, but I do remember thinking then that there was no one quite like him. I was so proud to call him mine. . And, you know, a lot has changed since 1994—but still I believe there is no one like him. . Thanks for all the shrimp and grits, daddy—and for the music, and the endless welcome you extend to all. But more than that, thanks for loving me no matter what. Happy, happy 70th. Here's to you! . xoxo (2/2) Crossing into Mexicali we meet Jando. Jando has been deported three times from the US, having arrived illegally as a teenager and then being arrested for minor crimes. Jando claims he has no interest in returning a fourth time to the US.  But he’s an unreliable narrator: he praises  Sinaloa crime boss Joaquín Guzmán Loera, and has track marks running up his arms.  Five minutes after we finish talking to him, we see him again, with a bloodied nose.  It’s a reminder that the border has a dark side: that the cartels who control drug and people smuggling also bring violence and addiction to the streets. . Follow @americanjourneysproject . Words @katylongsf Photos @missjessieparks (1/2) Our final stop at the US-Mexico border is in Calexico, where everyone speaks Spanish. Calexico, USA is essentially a suburb of much larger Mexicali, Mexico: locals tell us you could move the border five miles north and no one would notice. At the border on a Monday morning, we meet school girls waiting for their friends, and workers hurrying to their offices.  Many have green cards and some are even US citizens, but these border commuters live in Mexico - where money goes further — and work and study in the US. . For more follow @americanjourneysproject . Words @katylongsf Photos @missjessieparks Despite all the headlines about building a wall, there’s already a 15ft fence dividing the US from Mexico. I first saw it snaking across the desert an hour east of San Diego. This is the same wall — a  line of rust-red metal stakes — that I had already seen in a thousand news reports, but the vast and empty skies brought new perspective, as did the desert stretching far out to the horizon on either side.  We were there with Border Angels — a  humanitarian NGO — who drops water for the migrants who pick there way across this scrubland in the dark. Hugo, our guide, told us that coyotes today charge about $7000 for the journey from Tijuana to LA. . #americanjourneys . Words @katylongsf For more follow us @americanjourneysproject Even when listening to the most provocative threats made by President Trump, any fear non-white American citizens could ever be forcibly deported seems like hysterical fantasy. But it is also historical fact. Between 1929 and 1936, up to 1.2 million Americans — US citizens — were forcibly “repatriated” to their “home” in Mexico. Many did not even speak Spanish. Los Angeles city — with the largest populations of Mexicans outside Mexico — played a leading role, deporting 400,000 Mexicans. Many were forcibly rounded up in raids based upon their appearance, and sent across the border with a total lack of due process. Yet as the pace of deportation speeded up in the 1930s, efforts were underway to make Olvera Street, at the heart of Los Angeles’ Mexican barrio, into a tourist-kitsch calle to fit with white Americans’ romanticized version of Mexican culture — despite the fact that at the same time, Mexicans were being forcibly removed from the very same street. . #americanjourneys . Words by @katylongsf For more follow @americanjourneysproject . #everydaylafrontera #lafrontera #borderwall #defineamerican Pastor James Trammell of Columbus Street Baptist Church in Bakersfield, California. . @americanjourneysproject Bakersfield’s surroundings are breathtaking: smoky mountains on the horizon, almond trees blossoming along the arrow-straight highway. This city is proudly conservative, a dot of red in a sea of blue. This is in part because Bakersfield’s legacy is tied more to Oklahoma than California. In the 1930s, a million “Okies” fled the economic destitution of the dustbowl, working as migrant laborers in the surrounding fields, many dependent upon federal housing — like that provided at Sunset camp, made famous by John Steinbeck in The Grapes of Wrath. Their descendants stayed and prospered, but many of them — like Pastor James — are reluctant to draw parallels between the Okies’ poverty and the struggle of migrant laborers working in the fields today. . Words by @katylongsf For more, follow @americanjourneysproject as we travel across the country unraveling America’s immigration story.