Marie Shelton in Guatemala.
I crouch over my notebook in the shadow of a large 747 and contemplate funny flight attendant accents to get my mind off of the horrors facing my fellow travelers thousands of miles away dying for a new life, but I cannot escape them. They haunt me, because I am living the reality they should be having but won’t if the western world’s obsession with borders and exclusivism continues to deprive them of, well, their humanity. Read article
