Chap­ter 2: Walls explores the intri­cate and evolv­ing his­to­ry of the U.S.-Mexico bor­der, high­light­ing its trans­for­ma­tion from a once open and unmarked land­scape to a heav­i­ly for­ti­fied divi­sion. The author con­trasts a time when the bor­der rep­re­sent­ed vast, unbound ter­ri­to­ries, sym­bol­iz­ing open­ness, to the cur­rent real­i­ty where the bor­der is a harsh, mil­i­ta­rized struc­ture designed to con­trol immi­gra­tion. The bor­der is referred to as a “Death Star,” a metaphor that cap­tures the impos­ing and defen­sive nature of these bar­ri­ers, which are erect­ed in the name of nation­al secu­ri­ty and immi­gra­tion enforce­ment. This shift from an expan­sive, unguard­ed land to a tight­ly con­trolled and con­test­ed zone rep­re­sents the deep soci­etal and polit­i­cal changes that have occurred, espe­cial­ly in rela­tion to immi­gra­tion poli­cies and the nation’s evolv­ing per­cep­tion of nation­al iden­ti­ty.

The chap­ter begins by recount­ing the jour­ney of a group of emi­grants in the 1840s, led by a young man named Anto­nio. This group’s trag­ic west­ward jour­ney into what was then Mex­i­can ter­ri­to­ry is used to illus­trate the pride­ful expan­sion of the Unit­ed States. The events cul­mi­nate in the infa­mous Don­ner Par­ty tragedy, where extreme sur­vival tac­tics, includ­ing can­ni­bal­ism, revealed the grim real­i­ty of west­ward expan­sion. Antonio’s sto­ry serves as a pow­er­ful exam­ple of the extreme con­di­tions faced by set­tlers and high­lights the moral­ly ques­tion­able aspects of Amer­i­can ter­ri­to­r­i­al growth, as well as the often over­looked inter­ac­tions with Mex­i­can and Native pop­u­la­tions. The hor­rif­ic choic­es made by the par­ty under­score the com­pli­cat­ed rela­tion­ship between Amer­i­can set­tlers and the land they sought to con­trol, while expos­ing the racial and cul­tur­al ten­sions that were part of this expan­sion.

The cre­ation of the U.S.-Mexico bor­der is described as a result of expand­ing ter­ri­to­r­i­al ambi­tions, with the bound­ary ini­tial­ly marked by sim­ple obelisks before becom­ing for­ti­fied by walls and fences. This trans­for­ma­tion sym­bol­izes a shift from a phys­i­cal mark­er to a com­plex and mil­i­ta­rized zone, dri­ven by the fear of “otherness”—particularly in rela­tion to Lati­no immi­grants. The chap­ter illus­trates how this fear of the “oth­er” is root­ed in a long his­to­ry of exclu­sion and racism, which has been per­pet­u­at­ed through Amer­i­can poli­cies toward Mex­i­can and oth­er Latin Amer­i­can pop­u­la­tions. The evolv­ing bor­der, once a mere geo­graph­i­cal line, has become a sym­bol of cul­tur­al divi­sion, mir­ror­ing a broad­er soci­etal trend of racial­ized fear and exclu­sion, espe­cial­ly regard­ing the ris­ing Lati­no pres­ence in the U.S.

As the nar­ra­tive unfolds, it delves into the con­tra­dic­tions inher­ent in U.S. iden­ti­ty. The nation has his­tor­i­cal­ly relied on immi­grant labor to build its econ­o­my, yet at the same time, it has fos­tered a sense of fear and hos­til­i­ty toward the very immi­grants who make up its labor force. This para­dox is evi­dent in laws such as the Chi­nese Exclu­sion Act of 1882 and the more strin­gent immi­gra­tion restric­tions imposed after the Immi­gra­tion and Nation­al­i­ty Act of 1965. These poli­cies under­score the ongo­ing ten­sion between the need for immi­grant work­ers and the desire to pro­tect the nation­al iden­ti­ty, which is often framed in oppo­si­tion to immi­gra­tion. The chap­ter calls atten­tion to the fact that while the U.S. depends on immi­grant labor for eco­nom­ic suc­cess, it simul­ta­ne­ous­ly seeks to reg­u­late, restrict, and con­trol the flow of immi­grants, reflect­ing a deep-seat­ed con­tra­dic­tion with­in the nation’s poli­cies and social atti­tudes.

The chap­ter also brings atten­tion to the per­son­al expe­ri­ences of indi­vid­u­als like Glo­ria Itzel Mon­tiel, whose sto­ry high­lights the strug­gles of undoc­u­ment­ed immi­grants nav­i­gat­ing life in a soci­ety that has built walls both phys­i­cal and metaphor­i­cal. Mon­tiel’s jour­ney encap­su­lates the emo­tion­al and social com­plex­i­ties of being an undoc­u­ment­ed immi­grant, con­stant­ly caught between the need to sur­vive and the desire to be rec­og­nized as part of the larg­er com­mu­ni­ty. The nar­ra­tive high­lights how the expe­ri­ence of liv­ing with the border—both as a lit­er­al bar­ri­er and a sym­bol of soci­etal exclusion—shapes the iden­ti­ty of those liv­ing in its shad­ow. For Mon­tiel and oth­ers in sim­i­lar sit­u­a­tions, the bor­der is not just a phys­i­cal sep­a­ra­tion but a con­stant reminder of the racial, cul­tur­al, and social divides that per­sist in U.S. soci­ety.

In con­clu­sion, the chap­ter reflects on how the U.S.-Mexico bor­der serves as both a phys­i­cal and ide­o­log­i­cal bar­ri­er, deeply influ­enc­ing the way race, iden­ti­ty, and immi­gra­tion are under­stood in the Unit­ed States. The author argues that the bor­der is not just a geo­graph­i­cal bound­ary but a rep­re­sen­ta­tion of the deep divi­sions in soci­ety, par­tic­u­lar­ly between white Amer­i­cans and immi­grant com­mu­ni­ties. These divi­sions are not only about legal sta­tus but also about cul­tur­al and racial iden­ti­ties, high­light­ing the per­sis­tence of exclu­sion­ary prac­tices that have been a hall­mark of U.S. his­to­ry. By exam­in­ing the impact of the bor­der on indi­vid­u­als like Mon­tiel, the chap­ter calls for a reassess­ment of how bor­ders are used to define iden­ti­ty and belong­ing, urg­ing a more inclu­sive approach to the com­plex issues of race and immi­gra­tion in the Unit­ed States. Ulti­mate­ly, the bor­der becomes a sym­bol of both the phys­i­cal and psy­cho­log­i­cal bar­ri­ers that con­tin­ue to shape U.S. soci­ety and its under­stand­ing of who belongs and who is exclud­ed.