I was in the kitchen when I began watching a video on Facebook of a woman screaming that the Border Patrol had shot a young woman in the head. I soon learned the young woman was a paisana of mine – both of us from Guatemala – and that she had been killed while crossing the same border I’d traversed years ago.

“They killed her!” the woman filming the video screamed in Spanish. I felt powerless while I watched; there’s nothing you can do in that moment, even though the video is live.

“They shot her in head!” the woman exclaimed again. I later learned the woman filming lived near the crime site and that she’d been getting ready for a wedding when she heard the gunshot, grabbed her telephone, and rushed outside. What a hero, I thought. Border Patrol could have arrested her, accused her of anything, but she had the courage to film and confront the agents, to narrate the truth.

“Come on, guys!” she screamed, her anguish now directed at the agents. “How are you going to put a bullet in her head?”



That’s when I started to feel sick and called my husband to tell him what was happening. “They assassinated a young woman,” I told him.

Shortly afterwards, I learned her name was Claudia Gómez González, and I saw a photo of her, in which she’s standing straight and wearing her huipil. She looks so innocent and natural – and yet so beautiful. It reminded me of an old photo of myself, when I was nearly the same age. I had the same sad, innocent eyes, same face without makeup.

Looking at her photo, I’m suddenly transported 13 years earlier to the time when I entered this country. Like Claudia, I didn’t know what lay before me, and I never imagined that something terrible would happen to me. I’m reminded of my own innocence, fear, humiliation, and truncated dreams. I was also the victim of abuse by the Border Patrol when I crossed. An agent sexually abused me while I was detained in Texas. This memory is why I’m so affected by Claudia’s killing. But what pains me more than anything else is knowing that she had no opportunity to live her American dream. That’s the difference between us. I survived the Border Patrol. She was killed, without any remorse.

Both of us came for a better future, but she was killed in cold blood.

Now the Border Patrol says it’s investigating Claudia’s case. Investigating. Investigating. The agency is going to investigate until people forget about this. Local news reports two other members of Claudia’s group were witnesses to the crime. And where are they now? Detained – jailed – so that they can’t speak out. So they can’t say what they saw. From my experience, I know how Border Patrol handles its investigations. Years ago, when I reported the sexual abuse the agent committed against me, the officials said they were going to investigate. I waited and waited for news about the investigation – news that never came. Now immigration is trying to deport me, to silence me.

Since Claudia’s killing, I feel as if I, too, am in mourning. I feel enraged and powerless to know how human rights are being disrespected, to know how a border agent can kill a migrant as if she’s a dog. I’m frustrated to see how the new administration has given so much power to the Border Patrol that an agent – a killer – can grab his gun and kill someone who only wanted to achieve a better life for herself and her family. It’s not fair that the agency will now try to wash its hands of this killing by claiming the man was acting in self-defense. Self-defense against what? The only weapon Claudia was carrying was her dreams.

I hope that Americans who don’t speak Spanish will learn about Claudia’s killing, about the crimes that are being committed against us immigrants and the ways in which we’re being dehumanized. Recently, President Trump said we aren’t people, that we’re animals. And now, they’re treating us as if we’re even worse that that.

When I first saw the video, my husband told me not to worry too much about this, that I had my own case to fight. Right now I’m living in sanctuary in a church in Manhattan to avoid being arrested and deported while I’m appealing my immigration case. But I can’t just forget about the slaying of my paisana. Neither of us will rest in peace until we receive justice for the crimes of the Border Patrol. So I’m calling on everyone: let’s unite as human beings to demand the US government respect our human rights and to demand Claudia’s death does not go unpunished.