Healthcare4all
Guest blogger: Kenny Lee, Masters in Migration Studies, graduate student, University of San Francisco
A month ago, I had the opportunity to lobby with an immigrant rights organization called ASPIRE. Our objective was to convince California assembly members to support SB 29 or AB 4, which was a proposal to expand Medi-Cal healthcare coverage to all undocumented immigrants regardless of status in California, and it would bypass federal requirement of status by using California state taxes. Because Governor Gavin Newsom did not offer his support for healthcare to all undocumented immigrants with the exception of young adults, many stakeholders, including ASPIRE, were there to persuade assembly members to be more inclusive of the proposed health coverage under SB 29 or AB 24.
Unlike my peers at ASPIRE, I had no prior experience with lobbying and had no idea what to do. I felt like a country bumpkin in the field of politics, but my veteran peers, of course, reassured me: “Just tell your personal story—how did [the lack of] healthcare affect you or your family?” In my view, I was struggling to understand how personal stories could reach the hearts of politicians. And in all honesty, I had a stereotype regarding politicians as stone-cold and calculating based on news accounts.
As I braced myself walking into the room of one assembly member with my fellow peers, thoughts raced through my mind about what I should say regarding my experience with healthcare—have I ever been without healthcare? How did it affect me? And how much should I share? Then one of my peers spoke first and recounted their experience. It became obvious to me that I was underestimating the power of personal narrative from that point on.
I was dazzled, and I was filled with emotions by their stories. I could not help but feel extreme sympathy and compassion and gave my undivided attention. I looked around the room and everyone else was listening and looking at the speaker. Not a word of interruption until everyone spoke their piece. After we finished, it was apparent to me that personal stories are the most powerful tool in lobbying because it can connect people to their humanity. Numbers, statistics, and articles are nothing compared to the power and persuasion of people’s experience.
It was hard in the beginning to know what to say since I have healthcare and my family has both legal status and health insurance. But watching my peers encouraged me to think outside my family circle. After we spoke with the assembly member, we appeared at a subcommittee hearing along with many other stakeholders waiting for our turn to speak at the podium. When it was my turn, I testified before the subcommittee about how healthcare impacted my friends and elders. It was an exhilarating experience to know that a few years ago I would have been too scared to even speak about my immigration status, let alone civic engagement. Activism, at the end-of-the-day, seems less scary than the word entails. In the end, it’s about activating yourself to fight about issues that matters to you.
It was a privilege to learn about activism from my friends. But I could not help but wonder why social problems still exist if these narratives serve as powerful testimonies? In other word, what was taking so long to achieve social justice? I did not have answers, but I knew activism is part of a process in which justice and dignity can be obtain by speaking with lawmakers themselves. I think it is also important to talk to those who are not affected by immigration status to see that immigration law and policies impacts all of us directly or indirectly through our connections with others. Our social connections ties us tightly which intersects with many social issues that affects all of us, like healthcare. One does not have to be affected by the issue directly to speak on behalf of those who do not have a chance to voice to their concerns due to their work and familial obligations. Perhaps all of us can be an activist in our own way.
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