Robert Bentlyewski
Rob Bentlyewski worked for several progressive politicians before joining the MPA Program. He planned to use his MPA to establish a safe, comfortable career in government. Little did he know that his internship in the NY City Council during the height of the immigrant child separation crisis would inspire him to dedicate his career to defending people’s rights and upholding the integrity of public institutions, even if it meant sacrificing the calm and predictable path he had envisioned.
The Manhattan Borough President hosted a roundtable and invited the staff of every elected official in Manhattan – federal, state, and city – to discuss what we should do about the immigrant children separated from their parents and held, alone, in New York City.
At least forty staffers squeezed around the biggest conference table I’ve ever seen, with a handful of elected officials. My boss, Council Member Helen Rosenthal, couldn’t make it, so I was sent to represent the office and report back to her about the meeting.
Meetings like this can sometimes feel pointless, with people scrolling through Twitter or struggling to stay awake. This was nothing like that. Everyone had read the news about the immigrant children and sat ready to listen to a handful of lawyers representing detained children who had come to give us presentations on what they had seen.
The lawyers told stories of inhumanity and cruelty I could never have imagined. The man sitting next to me spoke first. He was from a nonprofit and represented multiple children held in an East Harlem facility. He was worn out and disheveled – his jacket was wrinkled, his hair hadn’t been combed, a half-eaten apple was carelessly left in his briefcase, and he looked like he’d simply stopped sleeping.
“Some of the children are so traumatized, so distrustful of others now, that they’ve stopped talking altogether. Even if you speak to them in Spanish, saying you’re here to get them back to their parents, they’ll just look at you,” he recounted.
The next lawyer told more horror stories. A parent was told by ICE, “You will never see your son again. He’ll be adopted by Americans.” Children were arriving from Texas with untreated skin diseases. ICE didn’t even keep track of which children belonged to which parents. “They put all the families in a room and said, “Kids go through that door, parents go through this door,” and they didn’t write anything down.” After a few minutes, she broke down crying. I bit my lip and tried not to do the same.
The staffers and politicians tried to make sense of what we’d heard. City Council members, Congressional representatives, and Mayors like to feel like they have some control over the places they represent – like they’re in charge. At that moment, we all felt powerless.
No one knew how many kids were detained, where many of their parents were, or how to reunite them. Only the Republican-controlled Congress could stop these unthinkable acts of cruelty, yet no Republicans – including those from Staten Island, Brooklyn, and Queens – were willing to stand up to the president, not even to stop gratuitous violence against children.
I left that room convinced of a few things. First, I was more committed than ever to my progressive, good-government values. People say harsh things about politicians and government workers, saying they’re selfish, opportunistic, and don’t really care. I’ve made such accusations myself. Looking around that table, I saw none of that. No one was thinking about re-election, or fundraising, or their pension. They were thinking about a human tragedy unfolding right here on Manhattan island, and the only thing that mattered was finding a way to help.
People brought up ideas, such as creating a fund to help parents post bail, or organizing field trips around the city for the detained children. People were inspired, mad, and ready to stand up to an inhumane political agenda. I knew I was playing for the right team—the one that was putting people ahead of politics.
Second, I knew government was the field I needed to (continue to) work in. We don’t just pass budgets and smile at ribbon cuttings. Politicians and the bureaucrats they employ touch the lives of everyone they represent in a direct, personal way. They can influence whether a person sees a doctor when they’re sick, or has a job, or – sometimes – lives or dies.
Part of my decision to get an MPA was to eventually transition into a calmer, more predictable career in government. I now hope my future is not very calm at all. It’s not enough for me to use my training from the MPA program to become a quiet but competent administrator. I need to take an active part in seeing that good, decent public policies are enacted, that institutions serve the public good, and that those who possess government gavels, or chairmanships, or presidencies don’t use their power for personal or political gain and the public’s detriment.
There’s too large of a mess to mop up out there and too many broken pieces to put back together to spend much time on anything else.
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