Good fences make good neighbors.

I am the kind of person who believes that borders are evil. They divide us and create inequities. They are symbols of oppression. They are the reason why we have wars. Wouldn’t the world be great if we saw it all as one planet, where we could move back and forth as we pleased. Wouldn’t it?

But something’s happened. I, an immigrant who came grudgingly to this country, have become part of the American middle class. I now live in a subdivision in the suburbs. I own a home. I own a car and a minivan. I have a wife and two kids. Wouldn’t you know it? I am in the middle of living the so-called American Dream.

What’s happened is that I now own property. I also have other neighbors who own property. And, apparently, some of them have a very different idea of property rights than I do. They believe that it is okay for their dogs to roam aimlessly through other people’s lands, pooping and peeing as they see fit. They believe it’s okay, on ocassion, to cross through other people’s yards. It’s fine, they think, to have their kids run and shout, because, after all, kids will be kids.

Then, you do confront some of those neighbors, and you ask them to please curb their dogs. You ask their kids to stop dumping their bikes on your yard. You make it clear that you do not want people using your yard as a shortcut to the pool. They do not seem to be pleased. The problem continues.

I know, I used to think that these type of problems were petty. And they are. But we live in a petty, capitalist world.

The only solution, I conclude, is to withdraw some of my savings and pay up for a fence. I want the limits of my yard clearly delineated, and I only want people in it that I invite or welcome in. I don’t want invaders. I don’t want people passing by. I don’t want their litter to be blown by the wind into my turf. For God’s sake, I want some privacy.

I’ve made the decision, and it occurs to me that that’s not unlike what happens in international matters.

Here’s the United States, this big piece of property sandwiched between Canada and Mexico. Canada is a good neighbor, mostly because they keep to themselves and do not bother us. But south of us is Mexico, and Guatemala, and El Salvador, and all those other neighbors who seem to have no regard for private property.

They cross into our turf, illegally. They do. They litter. They poop. They pee. They have their kids come and attend our schools, and then they have some more kids. They use our hospitals. They even buy our houses and then they start demanding rights. They come out here waving their flags. They were never invited in. We need a fence. Yes, that’s what we need. A high fence that would set some boundaries and give us back our privacy. We have the right to the enjoyment of our property without uninvited guests.

But, then, I remember that I am an immigrant. I am an invited guest who was allowed to stay, but a guest nonetheless. And this sets up a conondrum. It makes me feel bad about those on the other side of the fence, because they can’t come in and enjoy the goods we have on this side. I realize, once again, that we are petty.

How do I reconcile my philosophical views with the practical challenge? Do I decide not to put up a fence and let all neighbors in and out as they please.

No. I still put up a fence, but I invite guests. I invite the ones I like. I let them in at the times when I’m ready to welcome them, so that I can be a gracious host. And, in turn, they will be pleasant guests. But, unfortunately, my petty mind still needs the fence. Maybe some day the day will come when we won't need it.