For the last 10 years, America has been plagued by a seemingly eternal debate: illegal immigrants, do we like them, or do we hate them? Are they the cause of all our troubles? If so, what should we do about them? The problem with this line of reasoning, one that few are bold enough to mention, is that the debate was never truly centered around those who are undocumented but to all who “dare” to cross the U.S. border in the first place. It has become a convenient distraction, allowing politicians and political scientists to ignore the underlying issue: the systemic, outdated, and often exclusionary nature of the immigration system itself.
In a nation built by immigrants – one that prides itself on being a “melting pot” – the idea that it feels logical for some to treat newcomers as a threat is a paradox America has yet to fully reconcile. Since America has been America, immigrants played a key role in the development of this land. Immigrants are more than 30 percent more likely to start businesses and, for those that do, generate $776 billion annually to the U.S. economy. Moreover, even though only 16 percent of the population holding a bachelor’s degree or higher, they represent 33 percent of engineers, 27 percent of mathematicians, and 24 percent of physical scientists. And, unlike this common myth would imply, welcoming immigrants do not increase crime rates. Yet, today, many are seen as not contributors but as “invaders.” This shift in mentality is, sadly, not a product of moral judgment on immigrants but about who has the power to define the terms of entry and what that decision says about true American values.
The immigration debate has long been entangled in larger issues of race, class, and national identity. It is not, and has never been, about legal versus illegal but the perceived legitimacy of those who seek to enter. This narrative often serves as a proxy for deeper anxieties – like fear of the “other,” cultural dilution, or “losing control of the nation,” obscures a more pressing need for comprehensive immigration reform that balances security with human dignity, and examples of these attitudes are easily found within U.S. history. Irish immigrants, fleeing famine in the mid-1800s, encountered severe religious and cultural discrimination in America, resulting in movements like the Know-Nothing Party, created to limit their presence. Similarly, Italian immigrants faced accusations of criminality and cultural incompatibility, prompting restrictive orders like the Immigration Act of 1924, severely restricting immigration and imposing national origin quotas.
This reality of outdated policies and legal inefficiencies dominates the current debate on immigration. The border, while an essential part of the nation’s sovereignty, is not a mere line between “us” and “them.” It is, however, a space where people’s lives – sometimes in their most fragile moment – are caught in a legal limbo while also being reduced, on many occasions, to criminals. Families are separated, workers are exploited, and communities are divided so that the “American dream” of others can continue to exist. At the heart of this issue is a simple truth: people move away from their home countries for reasons that are too complex to reduce it to a simple binary choice between “legal” or “illegal.” Whether fleeing from violence, economic collapse, or craving for a better life, these choices are based solely on necessity and not criminal intent. Yet, by framing it as a binary choice, we ignore the broader forces at play that are pushing these people away from home in the first place.
The debate on illegal immigration has for too long become a smokescreen, a distraction that hides the more fundamental issue: how do we respond to a world in motion, one where the movement of people is both inevitable and necessary for the survival and growth of nations? The question is not whether immigrants are "illegal" or "legal." It is whether we are willing to open our hearts and minds to the people who are coming to us, seeking the same opportunities for a better life that once made this country a shining example of hope.
Iuri M. Piovezan received his Masters of Arts in Political Science from Villanova University and a Bachelor of Arts in Global Studies from Temple University. Currently, he is a J.D. student at Rutgers University.
