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San Diego Union-Tribune
By Logan Jenkins
July 10, 2006
I ask you.
What would Charles Dickens make of the county supervisors
and their apparent Scroogelike disregard for the physical
welfare of "illegal children"?
To start, the English author would invent memorable
names for the stone-cold supes. Bill Hornswoggle. Ron
Rockribs. Dianne Jackboot. Pam Slateheart-Pricegouge.
Greg Cockleburr.
In his room at the Hotel del Coronado, Dickens would
dip his pen and begin a new novel, the opening scene
of which would depict a Latino boy--let's call
him Tiny Tomas--who's struggling for breath
in his sweat-soaked bed.
In a panic, his mother, an illegal immigrant working
in Encinitas as a domestic, gathers up her little boy
and races to the affordable health clinic of first and
last resort, the hospital emergency room.
As good luck would have it, Tomas receives the care
he needs.
Unfortunately, other patients with severe life-threatening
conditions are forced to wait as the kindly, but overstressed,
ER doctor determines that Tomas is going to survive this
scare that, in a sensible world, would have been anticipated
by Tomas' pediatrician.
In San Diego County, roughly 15,000 Tomases, children
without immigration papers, are growing up the best they
can.
They attend public school. They share infectious bugs
with American children.
Common sense says it is in California's best interest
to make certain that these shadow children, so long as
they are here, receive the least expensive, most effective
health care possible.
But in this post-9/11 era of 24/7 border jeremiads,
common sense is not so common, at least in these southern
parts.
Five years ago, Santa Clara County developed a children's
health initiative that combines philanthropic as well
as public funds to guarantee that every child, regardless
of immigration status, receives basic health insurance.
No exceptions.
This program guides low-income families, many of whom
are the working poor, to state-subsidized health plans
for legal residents. If they don't qualify, the remaining
children, including the likes of Tomas, receive basic
insurance with reasonable co-payments.
The Santa Clara County pilot program has taken off,
spreading to 18 counties. Fourteen counties have programs
that are in planning stages.
In San Diego County, the Alliance Healthcare Foundation
has been pitching the initiative. More than 90,000 children
are growing up without health coverage here. The San
Diego County initiative's major sponsor is the California
Endowment, a private foundation headed by Dr. Robert
Ross, a pediatrician and the county's former health director.
But it doesn't take a brain surgeon to forecast that
San Diego County supervisors, whose official blessing
is required, will be hard, if not impossible, sells.
While the lack of long-term funding bothers at least
one supervisor, the non-negotiable sticking point is
the initiative's commitment to covering all children,
regardless of immigration status.
A county policy statement pledges that the board will "support
legislation that would repeal federal mandates that make
illegal aliens eligible for health, education, and other
benefits."
Expanding health care to children in the country illegally?
Not likely, not from this board.
Ruth Riedel, Alliance Healthcare's president, said she
feels the sharp chill in the County Administration Building.
It hasn't helped that the 50th Congressional District
race produced a TV tsunami of anti-illegal-immigrant
ads, Riedel said.
In Sacramento last month, conservative Republicans
shot down budget funding to support universal children's
health care. The rationale? It's an incentive for more
illegal immigration.
In fact, Mexico provides health care to children, including
immunization, Ross said.
But why let the facts get in the way of fire-breathing
immigration politics?
The United Way recently conducted a California survey
in which 83 percent of the respondents said they were
in favor of insuring all children. Given the times, it's
an astonishing result.
Ben Tulchin, the architect of the poll, believes that
the vast majority of Californians, all across the political
spectrum, understand that Tiny Tomas is an innocent child.
In a Dickensian sense, all he's asking for is more chicken
soup when he's sick. He's asking not to be thrown into
prison with his parents.
If Tulchin is right, border hard-liners are way out
of touch, caught up in politics that can border on hysteria.
"You can be tough on illegal immigration but still
be compassionate to the kids," Ross told me.
A national public education campaign is slated to be
launched tomorrow in Washington, D.C. New polling showing
broad, deep support for universal insurance for children
is promised.
In November, a potentially divisive initiative could
put these survey findings to a test. Among other things,
Proposition 86, an initiative to increase the cigarette
tax, would guarantee future funding for universal children's
insurance.
Expect anti-Proposition 86 TV ads, paid for by cigarette
companies, vilifying Tiny Tomas.
From a humanitarian, as well as an economic, point of
view, nurturing Tomas' physical well-being in a doctor's
office, rather than in an emergency room, is the right
thing to do.
We know how Dickens would feel. His heart famously
broke over innocent children facing hard times.
As for San Diego County's heart, I don't know.
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