Borderlands Day 2

We woke up ready for the day, unsure exactly what The Lydia Patterson Institute had planned for us, but open and eager to see what God had in store. Finally, a few people in our group realized we were in a different time zone than back home, which explained why some of us were extra sleepy (or extra early!).

Our visit began with a tour of the school, where we met teachers, administrators, and students. Every classroom we entered, the students stood to greet and welcome us. The building itself was filled with creativity; murals and bright colors covering the walls. It was clear that something special was happening there.

We spent time talking with the administration, Dina, and later the President of LPI, Dr. Cardoza. They both shared the story of the school: its mission, its students, and how it’s funded. We learned that El Paso is often referred to as the“new Ellis Island” because of its role as an immigration hub, especially for Mexican immigrants. The Lydia Patterson Institute sits in the El Segundo Barrio, one of the poorest neighborhoods in the United States, but that’s exactly where Lydia Patterson began her ministry in the early 1900s, and where she wanted it to stay. Patterson believed that education and faith could transform lives, and that’s exactly what it’s still doing today.

Right now, the school serves around 170 students, all of whom receive some kind of scholarship. Some pay nothing at all but participate in a one-hour daily work-study in exchange for their education, and their parents also help out at events in order to keep the scholarship. We heard about the ongoing challenges of obtaining and maintaining visas, and the daily process of crossing the border to attend school. Because it can be unsafe to travel at night, students are encouraged to head home immediately after classes end, even when they want to stay longer.

The administrators told us that most Lydia Patterson graduates go on to serve in public service roles. Their parents send them to school in the U.S. because they want their children to have opportunities they themselves never had. Some students wake up as early as 2 a.m. to make the long commute each day simply because they believe an education is worth the sacrifice. It was humbling to realize that while we might get frustrated over something as small as a wrong coffee order or a 30-minute restaurant wait, these students are giving everything for the chance to learn.

Dr. Cardoza shared her own full-circle story and how she grew up with limited access to education and how that now fuels her passion for her students. “They know there’s something greater,” she told us. “So they do it.” In Mexico, public education beyond a certain level is limited, and many families can’t afford private school, so they just don’t go to school at all. In the staff lounge, a mural captures that spirit perfectly: “Where there is a desire for knowledge, no barrier exists.”

After our tour, we shared lunch with some of the students (the school lunch food was so yummy!) and had the chance to really connect with them. About fifteen students total joined us throughout the afternoon, and each one radiated kindness and respect. The way they interacted with each other and their teachers, it felt like family.

They spoke about their daily routines: waking up before dawn, crossing what they call “the bridge,” and sometimes waiting one to five hours in line just to make it to school. They refer to it as a bridge, while we often call it a border. That difference struck us deeply. For them, it’s a bridge to opportunity and education; for many of us, it’s viewed as a wall or border. Isn’t it something, how one word can change the whole perspective?

To these students, Lydia Patterson is a second home. Many of their families can’t cross the border to attend their events or visit the school, yet they continue to support their children’s dreams from afar. The students’ humility and determination were inspiring to witness. They spoke about their love for life, travel, music, Jesus, and understandably, sleep (since they don’t get much of it!).

Adam reflected that these students are facing challenges far greater than most young people ever will, yet they’re going where others won’t. “God is preparing them,” he said.

All of the students speak Spanish as their first language, but the school teaches entirely in English. Some arrive knowing almost no English at all, and it was inspiring to see how they help and encourage one another through it when they don’t know how to say a word in English or they don’t understand a question. Dr. Cardoza reminds them often: “Be proud of your accent.”

Each of these students carries an incredible story behind their eyes. Their resilience, faith, and hunger for knowledge reminded me just how powerful education and hope can be. They face more challenges in a single week than many of us will in a lifetime, yet they do it with grace and gratitude.

Dinner was provided by the school, and a few parents and students helped prepare some amazing creamy green enchiladas and cake. We sat and talked with about ten other students, some the same from earlier in the day, and heard even more of their stories. The boys at my table were a little younger than most of the other students and weren’t as confident in their English, so they were pretty reserved.I didn’t know if I was supposed to, since they’re encouraged to speak English, but I ended up talking with them in Spanish a little to help them feel more comfortable. I wasn’t confident in my Spanish either, and I told them that. Somehow, that honesty made the moment even more meaningful. They were brave and patient, and the exchange felt mutual—both of us learning from each other. We all walked away having learned something…Spanish or otherwise.

We asked them random, lighthearted questions, but also some harder ones like “Are you scared to walk home 40 minutes tonight in the dark?” and “Is it scary to walk across the border? What are the agents like?” For them, this is normal. They said they weren’t scared and that people are usually kind and welcoming. It was humbling to realize how unphased they were by something that feels so mind blowing to us.

Other teammates had equally powerful conversations with these smart, funny, and respectful kids. The students even took our trash and plates, and insisted we go first through the food line. Dina and Dr. Cardoza were incredible hosts, and by the end of the night, we truly felt like a part of their family. . Dr. Cardoza texted me the photo later and said “Please know that we deeply appreciate each of you. You will always have a place here in your humble casa-escuela, your home and school forever.” It made us sad to leave, but I think most of us know we’ll be back. It felt more like a “hasta luego” (see you later) than a goodbye.

We returned to the apartments and Joan gave our devotional and shared a story about a broken pot and how the water carrier knew, but had a perfect plan for where that water would go. The cracked pot felt ashamed for losing water along the path, but what it didn’t realize was that the water carrier had planted seeds on that side of the road. Every day, the pot’s leak quietly watered those seeds until they bloomed into a trail of flowers. What looked like a flaw was actually part of something beautiful.

The truth is, we are all broken pots. We all deserve love, compassion, and forgiveness from ourselves and from others. There’s a plan for each of us, and we never truly know what part of the story we’re playing or how the seeds watered by our lives might grow in the future. God uses our cracks and imperfections to bring unexpected beauty and blessing into the world. What we see as weakness or failure may be the very thing God uses to serve others.

We each reflected on our day and how deeply we were touched by these students. I can safely speak for all of us when I say…we are so blessed to be here.