We have borders.

Our skin is our closest border, a barrier that keeps bacteria and viruses out, gives us particular shape and size, allows us to be flexible, agile.

Our minds have borders that allow us to go only as far as we think we can.

Countries have borders that make them countries.

This border check, on Arizona Highway 19, is between Nogales and Tucson.

Cars going north, further into Arizona, come to a standstill as border agents ask ” Are you an American citizen?

German shepherd dogs, on leashes, walk with their specially trained noses looking for drugs and contraband. A uniformed Border Patrol agent peers at us as we go through the check, gives us a quick visual once over, waves us forward.

Open borders is a compassionate theory, but, at night, do we leave our front doors open and hang a Welcome sign on our refrigerator?

What happens if I leave the U.S. on a trip and they don’t let me back in?

 

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