Like most organizations, at Taller de José, we're really good at sharing the success stories. I love telling the story of the client who was trilled to be granted a visa to remain in the United States. It's easy to share about the client who I connected with an program to get a new stove just in time to
cook Christmas dinner for her family. It's heartwarming to hear about my client who went from
being essentially blind to having near perfect vision. They're the stories that make us proud to be a part of Taller de José and—we hope—make others eager to join us in that mission.
But the nature of our work is such that not every story is going to have a "happy" ending. As a resource center, we are often limited by the resources that are available; we can can connect them and advocate for them, but we can only do so much if they don't qualify for one reason or another. And we can work for a more just immigration system for the future, but for clients caught up in it now, sometimes they have no legal recourse. Other times, there may be options open to the client, but if there are too many obstacles, if their day-to-day is so overwhelming and anxiety-producing that they can't find the emotional strength or physical ability to follow through with the services they need, we can't force them
to do so.
So unfortunately, yes, there are stories with less-than-happy endings. And those are always tough days. But an accompaniment I was on recently helped remind me that we don't promise happy endings. We promise accompaniment. On this particular accompaniment, I went with a long-term client, Susana to a court hearing, during which the judge was going to determine whether or not Susana would lose her legal rights as a parent for her 5 children. The reasons it had reached this point are long an complicated (and confidential), but suffice it to say that Susana is probably not capable of making the best choices for her children at this point in her life. Yet even though she struggles to make decisions in the best interests of her children, she really does love them and had tried so hard to do what she could to have them returned to her care, so listening to hours and hours of court testimony from witnesses who were replaying—in great detail—her worst choices was incredibly difficult. Susana had a lawyer, and we had done our best to assist her in following through with court-ordered services, but ultimately the judge decided that day to terminate her legal rights as a parent, meaning her children will never return to her care.
There was nothing I could do to turn this into a happy ending, but what I could offer to Susana was my presence. A compañera from Taller de José was with Susana throughout the several days of the hearing, sometimes offering clarification if she didn't understand what was happening, but mostly just offering moral support. And though she was clearly upset at the end of the day—and I was drained and saddened on her behalf—she still thanked me profusely for being there with her. At a time when I was feeling frustrated and incapable of helping create a happier resolution to her struggles, she reminded me that my presence was what she needed in that moment, not my knowledge of legal resources or the English language or the public transit system. After all, the first definition of accompany is "
to go along or in company with; join in action." At Taller de José, we pride ourselves on being able to provide so many our our clients with the tools needed to overcome certain obstacles, but we also constantly remind ourselves that the heart of our mission is to let our clients know that they aren't alone on the journey, whatever the outcome.
