I was a refugee child escaping violence and death, and when I was hungry, you made my family stay in towns on the other side of the border not equipped to help me, and I went without food.
I was thirsty on the journey and you poured out jugs of water onto the desert floor for me and my family to die of dehydration and exposure.
I was a stranger and you tear gassed me and my family at the border instead of allowing us to apply for asylum.
I was naked and you forced me to stay in border towns in Mexico that struggled to find resources to clothe me.
I was sick because of the long journey, unsanitary conditions, and lack of adequate medical supplies; and because you separated me from my parents, they could not care for me.
I was in prison because you separated me from my parents and put me in a detention camp that the children here call “el infierno” (that means “hell” in my language), and you did not even allow my parents to come visit me.