Jordon’s story went viral after he quit his job rather than help ICE tear families apart. He wants others to follow in his footsteps.
When you learn CPR, one of the things you learn is that before beginning chest compressions, you need to get someone to call 911. If you’re in a crowd, you need to point at a specific person and tell them to do it, because if you say, “Someone call 911,” people will just stand there. It’s not because they are callous. It’s because the more people who are gathered around, the more everyone thinks someone else will do it. Everyone will wait for someone else to take action.
Right now, we need people to act to prevent future tragedies in our immigration system.
But even as things grow more urgent, many people are still waiting for someone else to act because we find ourselves in a massive crowd. Everyone wants things to be better, but they are waiting because obviously someone is going to do something, right?
So this is me, pointing at you, and telling you to act. I’m especially telling you to take action if you find yourself as part of one of the agencies helping commit these atrocities.
If you’re in an immigrant detention facility and you hear the cries of mothers separated from their children, do you feel any pangs of guilt for your part in it?
That’s your call to action.
Are you a border agent, haunted at night by images of people dying in the desert, because you were “just following orders” when you dumped out life-saving water?
That’s your call to action.
Are you an ICE agent worried your coworkers enjoy their job a little too much as they drag a father away from his children?
That’s your call to action.
Is there anything in you that looks at what you are part of and says, “This doesn’t seem right?”
That’s your call to action.
I felt a similar gut reaction when I was asked to help process subpoenas for ICE. The part I would have played was very small, but that didn’t matter — I would still have been a part of it. I knew what would be done with the information: more innocent people would be torn away from their families.
I quit rather than “just follow orders” because I knew it wouldn’t be long before I had to look my child in the eye and explain what I had done. As a parent, I’m supposed to be able to help guide my child to make the right choices, and how could I teach my child to do the right thing — even when it’s hard — without doing it myself?
It’s not too late. There’s still a chance to turn things around. I know it’s scary. It seems as though it would be easier to just keep your head down, maintain your job, put in your time, and retire.
But no government pension is worth your soul.
No job is worth the scars you will inflict on yourself by following along. History will not look kindly on those who stood by and did nothing during these atrocities, but it will eviscerate those who helped carry them out.
There’s still time, so I ask anyone involved in our immigration system to make a stand and take action. Come forward. Speak out. Be heard.
Jordon Dyrdahl-Roberts* moved to Montana in ’08 after he and his fiancée, Daisy, graduated from Marlboro College. They settled in Helena to be close to Daisy’s family. Jordon soon began working for the State of Montana. They had a child in ’14, and they planned to work, play, and raise a family. At least, that was the plan until February of ’18 when, working as a legal secretary for Montana’s Department of Labor and Industry, Jordon was asked to process subpoenas for Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). Not wanting to play any part in breaking up families, he quit his job and wrote about why on his Twitter account. After his story went viral, Jordon has dedicated his time to trying to help the immigrant community in whatever way he can.*
If you want to take a step in the right direction and stand up for all human beings, Freedom for Immigrants can walk with you through this process in a confidential manner. Contact lmartinez@freedomforimmigrants.org.