Windows, Walls and Invisible Lines:
Portraits of Life in Sanctuary
Joel Dyer
May 10th – July 14th, 2024
WINDOWS
A window takes on new importance when you’ve been trapped inside the same set of walls for years on end. In sanctuary, clear glass panes become everything. They are the only way to touch the outside world; the weather; the change of seasons; to know if it’s day or night or who slammed that car door. Without windows the days in sanctuary would be too monotonous to bear.
Windows also offer the chance to be seen, to know you haven’t been forgotten. In sanctuary there is power and importance in just having a passerby smile and wave, in that way acknowledging that you still exist.
Whether outside looking in or inside looking out, the windows of sanctuary are a continuous source of both hope and sorrow. They are a reminder of what used to be and a glimpse of what could one day be again.
WALLS
There is prison. There is freedom. And then there is sanctuary; imprisonment to be free. How does a person choose to lock themselves behind walls without knowing if it will make any difference in the end? The answer is that the alternative has to be so horrific that it generates the strength and courage to make such an extraordinary sacrifice.
When moms and dads are told to leave the country without each other or their children; when a single mom is given 30 days to either put her children up for adoption or take them with her to live homeless on the streets of a crime-ridden city; when a husband/caregiver is ordered to leave behind his dying wife of 30 years; when a young father has to choose between abandoning his motherless one-year-old son or taking him to a place where they both will face near certain death; When a mom has to consider either leaving behind or taking her severely autistic four-year-old daughter to the most violent city in the world to live in poverty with no chance for the special help her daughter needs; those are the moments when the sacrifice of sanctuary’s self-imprisonment becomes the right choice, the only choice.
The walls of the churches that have safely held the lives of our immigrant friends who have faced such traumatic decisions are truly holy.
INVISIBLE LINES
So, what is it about the walls of religious institutions that makes them impervious to the efforts of law enforcement officials, including those in Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE)? It’s a good question considering there are no actual laws preventing ICE from simply entering church property and apprehending whomever they want. They can do that at any time, but so far, they haven’t. The reality is, the only thing protecting the people who have taken sanctuary on church property is what can best be described as invisible lines.
When Jorge Taborda was driving to his church to take sanctuary, ICE agents were ramming the back of his car to stop him from getting there. But when he made it into the church parking lot they immediately stopped their pursuit and parked across the street. Invisible and strong.
But for how long?
Unfortunately, these invisible lines are also vulnerable. They are no more than a manifestation of our past cultural sensitivities, largely just a policy suggestion willed into existence by our better angels in days gone by presumably to protect us from ourselves in times of political persecution, times like today. The reality is, these lines can be erased by nothing more than a misguided presidential tweet.
If these invisible lines built of history, empathy and respect for religious freedom should fall, our country will be forever changed. In many ways, these lines are our nation’s last remaining lines of defense against the increasingly racist, inhumane and totalitarian policies aimed at the most vulnerable among us, our immigrant population who deserve our protection no matter where they were born or the color of their skin.
Joel Dyer has been a documentary photographer, journalist and author for more than 35 years.
He worked under a corporate grant to photograph the farm crises and document the increasing rate of farm suicides in the 1980s. In the early 1990s, he traveled the United States photographing endangered species and protected lands for the Nature Conservancy. He served as staff photographer for Boulder Weekly for several years before becoming the editor of the paper in 1995.
His work has appeared in New York Times Sunday Magazine, Vanity Fair, U.S. News & World Report, Mother Jones, Utne Reader and numerous other publications.
His original reporting has put him in front of the camera on such programs as Today Show, Good Morning America, Fox News, 48 Hours, Nightline, ABC/NBC/CBS Nightly News, and The Editors.
Dyer worked with author Gore Vidal on a number of projects as both a writer and editor, including two of his pieces on domestic terrorism and Timothy McVeigh for Vanity Fair. Vidal has included excerpts of Dyer’s work in two of his books, and was instrumental in having his publisher translate and publish Dyer’s book Harvest of Rage in Italy.
Dyer’s investigative reporting on the antigovernment movement resulted in his being called to testify before the Senate Subcommittee on Terrorism in 1996.
Dyer has been a featured speaker at the national conference for Investigative Reporters and Editors.
He has won more than 60 national and regional journalism awards for his photography, reporting and books.
He has written two screenplays, including one with actor/author Peter Coyote.
Dyer has written two critically acclaimed books: Harvest of Rage: Why Oklahoma City is Only the Beginning 1998, published by Hachette Book Group Perpetual Prisoner Machine: How America Profits from Crime 2000, published by Hachette Book Group
Dyer’s books have been endorsed by Author/Historian Howard Zinn, filmmaker Michael Moore, Author Gore Vidal, Author Mark Dowie, and best-selling author and former Texas Secretary of Agriculture Jim Hightower.
In 2018, Dyer launched his Windows, Walls and Invisible Lines: Portraits of Life in Sanctuary project which has for the past four years been collecting the photographs and stories of undocumented immigrants who have been forced to take sanctuary in churches to avoid deportation back to their countries of origin. For many of these people, such an outcome would likely result in their own deaths and/or force them to decide between giving up their small children or taking them back to a world of poverty and violence.