The Line Becomes a River Major and Minor Quotes

“‘Fine, . . . but you must understand you are stepping into a system, an institution with little regard for people.’” (Part I)

—Francisco’s mother

Analysis: Unlike Francisco, who might come into the Border Patrol with romantic ideas about helping people and saving lives, his mother understands from experience the danger inherent in systems of power and authority. Her warning that the Border Patrol has little regard for people ends up being proven multiple times through the memoir. She understands this from her past as a government employee in the National Park Service. She also understands that despite individual people’s intentions or morals, a system will force certain actions and behaviors that they would not otherwise choose.

Francisco tries to be kind and humanitarian to the migrants, but he must still arrest them, initiating a process that eventually leads to deportation and, in some cases, death. Later, Francisco will come to realize this, and when he sees the system from the outside, he will regard it as a “thing that crushes.” The longer Francisco works in the Border Patrol, the more distant he becomes from his mother and the more stress he takes on. Although his bosses treat him well and seem at times to hold him in high regard, the work itself becomes toxic for Francisco and does not allow him to feel good about himself. 

“There are days when I feel I am becoming good at what I do. And then I wonder, what does it mean to be good at this?” (Part I)

—Francisco

Analysis: Francisco wonders if becoming a good Border Patrol agent means becoming a bad person. During his time patrolling the border, Francisco gains experience and learns new skills but also feels himself changing morally. To be proficient at the job of patrolling the border means being capable of doing morally questionable things like arresting mostly harmless migrants and confiscating their meager possessions. While Francisco admits that an agent’s actions are determined by their character (“what kind of agent you want to become”), an agent must inevitably “slash [migrants’] bottles and drain their water into the dry earth,” among other things. Francisco presents the Border Patrol’s aims as deterring migrants from crossing by making the process dangerous and difficult. However, later experience will show him that no amount of deterrence will stop the crossings and that, in effect, the Border Patrol terrorizes migrants for the sake of a misguided mission.

Francisco’s fears of his moral decline, illustrated by his nightmares, stem from the work he does. Despite his efforts to make things better for the migrants he deals with, he is still part of a system whose aim is to—at the very least—scare and hassle them into staying in Mexico. Later, when Francisco quits the Border Patrol, it is the result of his realization that he cannot be hard-hearted enough to be an effective (“good”) Border Patrol agent. In contrast, his supervisor Cole is considered an experienced and competent agent, and he is depicted as a callous man. Francisco’s partner Morales, who outlasts him in the Border Patrol, is also more disposed to be unkind and cold toward migrants.

“‘Field agents don’t write border policy.’” (Part II)

—Francisco

Analysis: This heated exchange between Francisco and his mother is the first moment in the memoir where Francisco expresses anger toward her. It is the point at which the growing disconnect between mother and son erupts into open hostility. Francisco’s mother is sharing the criticisms of the Border Patrol conveyed to her by a rancher affected by the failed border policy. Francisco reacts by defending the Border Patrol, even though he has also begun to question its mission. His argument that agents don’t write policy attempts to shift the blame on lawmakers and higher-ups in the agency. Later, José will make a similar argument, blaming American politicians who don’t understand the border for the Border Patrol’s failing tactics that punish and criminalize migrants for seeking a better life. After making this point, Francisco sees his mother looking at him as if he were a “fanatic.” Mother and son can no longer have an honest, civil conversation about Francisco’s work because of the distance between them and his own conflicted feelings.

Francisco’s statement here is intended to absolve him and other agents of responsibility for the rules they enforce, but it contains the very charge it seeks to refute. His mother does not say that agents are driving people to their deaths: Francisco does. He misrepresents her words because of his own guilty conscience, ironically speaking the truth he is afraid to acknowledge sincerely.

“’I need to know who’s a scumbag and who’s just a POW . . . you know . . . a plain old wet.’” (Part II)

—Hayward

Analysis: After a fellow agent is shot, Hayward tasks Francisco with putting together a target folder and writing a report on the assailants. Hayward’s phrase “plain old wet” refers to non-dangerous migrants whose only crime is crossing the border illegally; “wet” in this case is shorthand for a racist epithet applied to Mexican immigrants crossing the Rio Grande. Hayward uses this term even though the migrants crossing into Arizona are not crossing through water; in fact, many risk death by dehydration. Although he recognizes, as Francisco does, that migrants in general are not dangerous criminals, he still dehumanizes them with his derogatory language.

There is an extra dimension to the term “POW” or “prisoner of war.” This is an apt metaphor considering that the migrants who pass through the Border Patrol’s system are prisoners and that in many cases they are trying to escape the drug war in Mexico. Although Hayward’s phrasing is insensitive, it alludes—perhaps unwittingly—to the trauma migrants suffer during their crossing, which the memoir likens to that suffered by survivors of war. Despite the distinction, José’s case later in the memoir illustrates how being an otherwise law-abiding migrant does not offer protection from deportation or arrest. Indeed, José will argue that in trying to scare such people from crossing, the US government instead forces some to become criminals.

“Why not return to the border’s smoldering edges, why not inhabit the quiet chaos churning in your mind?” (Part II)

—Francisco

Analysis: Throughout The Line Becomes a River, Francisco often uses animals as metaphors to express his inner conflict. In this case, he has noticed a prairie falcon in a camera feed. Although the falcon is unaware of him and probably unaware of the camera, Francisco imagines the bird is judging him. Francisco feels he has abandoned his responsibilities by transferring from fieldwork to Sector Intel (“It feels like a retreat”), and in his imagination the falcon expresses this accusation directly. Francisco wonders whether, instead of running away from the emotional damage suffered while patrolling the desert, he should return and confront it.

The “quiet chaos churning” in Francisco’s mind is the unaddressed trauma and guilt from dealing with and contributing to the hardships suffered by the migrants he arrested. This is the unconscious part of his mind, the part that manifests in the nightmares interwoven into the memoir’s narrative. Although Francisco no longer patrols the border, he is constantly reminded of the suffering occurring there from his safe position in an air-conditioned office space. Through the falcon, he charges himself to take action to address that guilt. Ultimately, he will return to the field with Hayward, but it will only convince him to quit the Border Patrol.

“But here, in the stale and swirling air of the courthouse, it was clear that something vital had gone missing in the days since apprehension, some final essence of the spirit had been stamped out or lost in the slow crush of confinement.” (Part III)

—Francisco

Analysis: Although Francisco has previously encountered migrants while arresting them on the border, this is his first encounter with migrants who have been processed by the American legal system. The migrants at the border were often excited or frightened but still lively and full of hope. By contrast, José and the other men being “Streamlined” look defeated and diminished. Operation Streamline, the federal program alluded to in this chapter, originated in 2005 and authorized fast-track hearings like the one Cantú describes. These are part of a broader policy meant to charge migrants with illegal entry and expedite their deportation.

The “final essence of the spirit” to which this quotation refers may be hope of a better future. The migrants Francisco encounters at the border often plead with him, but the men at the Streamline hearing all admit their guilt and accept their punishment, understanding that if they refuse, they will be imprisoned for years. The “slow crush of confinement” foreshadows a later moment where Francisco comes to regard the Border Patrol as a giant “thing that crushes” people’s hopes and dreams. This is the first time Francisco understands the true impact of his work, as he can see the finished product of the process he would initiate by arresting migrants.

“If I was seeking redemption, I wondered, what would redemption look like?” (Part III)

—Francisco

Analysis: Francisco is caught off guard when one of his coworkers tells Lupe that he used to be a Border Patrol agent. She frames this as Francisco helping José because he understands the plight of migrants like him. Lupe seems shocked by the revelation, and Francisco is embarrassed to be outed in this way. He also feels that the help he’s offering to Lupe and José is insufficient, which is why he thinks of it as “paltry reparation.” By questioning what redemption would look like, he hints that he believes he would have to do much more to make up for all the harm he has caused to migrants.

The moment is also uncomfortable because Francisco is forced to question whether his decision to help José is at least partly selfish. That is, he wonders whether rather than simply wanting to help a friend, he is trying to assuage his own guilty conscience. Later, Francisco will imagine helping José sneak across the border, something he doesn’t do because he is too afraid to attempt it. What the “real redemption” might be for Francisco is never fully explored, although it might have involved risking his own life to smuggle José across the border. 

“It’s like I’m still part of this thing that crushes.” (Part III)

—Francisco

Analysis: Although Francisco leaves the Border Patrol and gets a job at the coffee shop, he can never entirely escape the emotional damage of his prior career. He finally admits this to his mother when he visits her on Christmas Eve. The “thing that crushes” is an allusion to a previous conversation after José’s deportation when he compares the Border Patrol to a giant crushing people’s dreams. Francisco here admits that despite quitting and despite his efforts to help José, he is still somewhat culpable for José’s deportation. Partly, this feeling seems to stem from his guilt as a former Border Patrol agent, but Francisco may also believe that as an American he is somewhat responsible for the country’s legal system. In contrast to his earlier refusal to accept responsibility for border policy, Francisco now accepts the burden of guilt.

His mother replies that he is “no longer severed from what it means to send someone back across the border.” Although previously Francisco showed pity for migrants and tried to help them, through befriending José he has finally been shown the true devastation caused by US immigration policy. Not only does it destroy individual lives, but it also hurts entire families, and Francisco can’t escape culpability simply by quitting the agency.

“In this way, the U.S. is making criminals out of those who could become its very best citizens.” (Part III)

—José

Analysis: In the final section of Part III, Francisco’s narration yields to a passage written in José’s voice. José speaks about his personal motivations for risking his life to return to the United States and be with his family. José criticizes both the Mexican and US governments for different reasons. The Mexican government, according to him, does not care for its citizens and allows corruption and crime to run rampant. By contrast, the US government is “more organized,” and laws are respected, but that does not make it a perfect system. He criticizes both judges who deport people like him and the politicians who make the laws. If judges understand the conditions of the border, he says, they will know they send people to their deaths when they deport them.

José asserts that the US border policy is based on a fatal miscalculation that ruins lives for no good purpose. When the United States deports migrants like José, it hopes the rest of their family will follow them back to Mexico. Instead, the families stay in America, and the deported members will do anything, even risk their lives, to reunite with them. When José says the United States is “making criminals,” he means migrants like him are forced to illegally enter and hire dangerous criminals to smuggle them because they can’t live apart from their family. José will keep trying until he makes it back to America or he dies.

“The waters of the river flowed pale and brown, liquid earth washing over me like so many human hands, like a skin unending.” (Epilogue)

—Francisco 

Analysis: When Francisco swims in the Rio Grande, he finds himself able to move across the border without any difficulty. This moment clarifies what his mother had tried to teach him: that the border is an imaginary line and that the land is the same land on either side. This line not only captures that sentiment but also dissolves other boundaries. The river is “pale and brown,” succinctly symbolizing the range of different skin colors among people who share the border. The water is also “liquid earth,” an image that conflates and mixes the classical elements of water and earth.

By calling it a “skin unending,” Francisco suggests there is no fundamental rupture or division between the two countries. Rather, they are part of one greater whole, and thus it makes no sense to enforce borders or draw lines between people. The image of human hands washing over him evokes the human lives that have shaped and been shaped by the border, as well as the strength he derives from his heritage. The epilogue mirrors the prologue: there, Francisco refuses to “touch the water,” but here, the water touches him. The water of the river uplifts and carries Francisco and, perhaps, has the baptism-like effect of washing away guilt.