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A Closer Look at the Migrant Shelters in Tijuana
by Rebecca Mizrahi
July 31, 2019
Rebecca Mizrahi is a Freelance Photographer based in Los Angeles. You can see more of her work here.
Migration has been a constant across the world and throughout history. With the increased politicization of immigration in the United States, a true humanitarian crisis has emerged on both sides of the U.S. and Mexican borders. A day spent visiting shelters in Tijuana provided an intimate setting to hear first hand stories about the violence, poverty and persecution that compels migrants, refugees and asylum seekers to leave their homes and risk everything for a chance at a new life in the United States. Most obvious in people’s stories is a sense of grief and loss, ongoing fear and uncertainty about what’s to come, and a tremendous longing for a safe, secure future. These images are from a day in the life.
© Rebecca Mizrahi
The “double” border wall is visible from a bus in Tijuana. Non-profit volunteer organization, Border Angels estimates that since 1994, about 10,000 people have died in their attempt to cross the border. According to the U.S. Customs and Border Protection, 7,216 people have died crossing the U.S–Mexico border between 1998 and 2017. Conflicting estimates.
© Rebecca Mizrahi
Malecon, Playas de Tijuana. The border wall stretches into the Ocean but does not stop families from meeting to talk and pass notes to each other on either side. Although recent efforts seek to prevent this from continuing to happen.
© Rebecca Mizrahi
One of many “missing” in Tijuana, one of the largest border metropolises in the world. It is not uncommon for male and female migrants to become trapped in the sex trade, with very few options to survive while they wait for asylum.
© Rebecca Mizrahi
New tents, clothing and food provided by This is About Humanity. Name of shelter is concealed to protect asylum seekers fleeing violence/ persecution.
© Rebecca Mizrahi
Donated blankets used for padding in lieu of mattresses.
© Rebecca Mizrahi
Children’s vitamins and prenatal pills sit atop a makeshift office in the center of the shelter.
© Rebecca Mizrahi
Child watches as new tents are set up and old blankets are removed, a bottle of medicine and a plastic spoon beside her.
© Rebecca Mizrahi
A family watches as the shelter is overturned by volunteers trying to clean up after heavy rains.
© Rebecca Mizrahi
Diapers, a few toys and a math book show the simplest accumulation of items for a migrating family. Children have no way to attend school while moving from shelter to shelter and can go anywhere from a few months to several years without formal education.
© Rebecca Mizrahi
In 2018, Casa Cornelia Law Center responded to 883 adult asylum seekers in need, and 876 unaccompanied children.
© Rebecca Mizrahi
According to Casa Cornelia, about 90% of asylum seekers without an attorney are denied, but almost half of those with representation are successful. As of mid-2018, over 700,000 asylum cases remained open, with new applicants applying each day.
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God Came Through Here the Other Day: Part One.
by William Galindo
May 24, 2018
William Galindo is a Los Angeles based photographer. These photos are from an upcoming book, God Came Through Here the Other Day, which captures the lives of a community under the Sixth Street Bridge.
This is part one of an ongoing series.
I found my way to the Sixth Street Bridge after the city announced it was going to be demolished. The tunnel wasn’t closed off yet, and people still lived there. I shot 800 rolls of film in a year and a half. I would have never stopped. I could keep shooting forever. But after the bridge came down, piece by piece, everyone moved away. So I stopped.
I took a picture of my friend Broadway's gunshot wound when we first met. He didn't want me to write about how it happened in the book, he was a little paranoid.
CJ sets up his tent everyday. Every now and then cops make them take down the tens. He felt special and appreciated it. I never saw him again. Everyone was there together but they were also alone at the same time. Everyone did their own thing, kept to themselves. Greg got a job working for the railroad. He lived with his sister but he would set up a tent and hang out. He was one of the only people that had a plan to leave. Greg relaxing in his tent. He thought he looked lazy in this photo. The city allows people to camp on the sidewalk since there are not enough beds in the shelters. Tents are supposed to be cleared every morning, but the rule isn’t really enforced.