The word is “illegal.” You and I know that word to simply describe something that is against the law. But, to those activists who agitate on behalf of illegal immigrants – including people who favor an open border and a suspension of all laws against unlawful entry into the United States – the word is an unfair and dehumanizing slur against a group of people who are more accurately described as “undocumented.”

To this bunch, “illegal” is a bad word. And those who use it are bad people. Ironically, that includes a wide swath of the liberal media that often expresses support for comprehensive immigration reform and condemnation of reactionary measures like virtually anything coming out of Arizona these days.

These are natural allies for those on the left, and so it makes little sense that radical left-wing activists would declare war on them. But that’s what happened when The Fresno Bee, the largest newspaper in Central California, ran a seven-day series called “In Denial” which explored the contradictions in popular attitudes and public policies over “illegal” immigration. The series asked: “We’re unhappy about illegal immigrants. So why do we make it so easy for them to live and work here?”

Good question. It points to the hypocrisy and dishonesty in a debate that often seems disconnected from reality. People talk about ending illegal immigration, but is there a national consensus that Americans want to see it ended? And if it were to end, who would do our chores for us?

These are the kinds of questions that one would have hoped people would have asked following the Bee series, but instead the conversation was hijacked by a silly and juvenile controversy over – yep, you guessed it – the “I-word.”

Like most of the media, the Bee uses the term “illegal immigrants.” The newspaper follows recommendations from the Associated Press Stylebook to employ neutral terms for reporting. In doing so, it eschews pressure from the left to use terms like “undocumented workers.” But it also resists pressure from the right to use the more inflammatory term, “illegal alien.” In this case, the middle-of-the-road approach is also the most reasonable and most accurate.

But not to Michael Medrano, an English professor at Fresno City College, who started a Facebook group that urged people to boycott the newspaper during the series. “HUMAN BEINGS ARE NOT ILLEGAL,” Medrano has written. “Being called such is a violation of their human rights.”

Wrong, Professor. Human beings may not be illegal. But they can commit illegal acts. And the acknowledgment of that fact isn’t a violation of anyone’s human rights.

Elsewhere, another group of activists have launched a national “Drop the I-Word” campaign, which claims it is dedicated to eradicating the use of the word “illegals” in everyday life and in the media. The campaign urges everyone to sign a pledge not to use what it calls a “racist” word and offers a toolkit for journalists and organizations to use in discussing immigration.

Oh brother. Speaking as a Latino journalist who has been on the job for 20 years, I’m sure I speak for many of my colleagues when I say: I don’t need no stinkin’ toolkit.

But these people need to get a clue. There is nothing wrong with the word, “illegal.” Or with the phrase, “illegal immigrant.” They’re not demeaning or dehumanizing. They’re descriptive.

Besides, this isn’t about a word. It’s about what the Fresno Bee series tried to examine: denial. Many on the left are in complete denial that the people they’re trying to help have done anything wrong, broken any laws, violated any statutes or trampled any borders.

Guess what? They did. And we have a word to describe that sort of activity: illegal.

Ruben Navarrette Jr. is a nationally syndicated columnist, a regular commentator for NPR, and a weekly contributor to CNN.COM.

It was a great idea. It embodied that concept that you can’t get something for nothing. Instead, here, participants would have gotten something (legal status) for something (attending college or joining the military). It also happened to be the last best hope that Congress would do anything even faintly resembling comprehensive immigration reform before mid-century.

Of course, the DREAM Act had a troubled history. The idea of swapping college or military service for legal status isn’t new. It was first proposed way back in 2001, and it spent nearly ten years on Congress’s back burner. When that happens, it’s a giveaway that lawmakers in both parties find themselves in a tough spot.

In this case, conservatives knew they couldn’t very well support a measure that many in their base consider “amnesty” for college students; but they were afraid to come out against a group of individuals who seem sympathetic to much of the general public. Meanwhile, liberals were inclined to support the measure; but they were afraid that tackling the immigration issue piecemeal in this way would undermine whatever support there might be for a more sweeping comprehensive immigration reform bill.

But, after the 2010 election, there was a new sense of urgency to get something done and try to make the DREAM Act a reality. Perhaps Democrats were eager to repay the support of Latino voters. Or perhaps, with Republicans poised to take the control of the House of Representatives in January, some liberals concluded that this was their last chance to get the bill through.

Whatever the reason, the House of Representatives recently scheduled a floor debate on the bill and held a vote. C-Span viewers were treated to the spectacle of GOP Congressman saying a host of ridiculous things, such as when Rep. Dana Rohrbacher, R-CA, suggested that the bill would give college admissions “preferences” to illegal immigrants over U.S. citizens and thus amounted to an “affirmative action amnesty.”

When the votes were cast, to the surprise to many, the bill passed – mostly along party lines.

Then the spotlight shifted to the Senate, where those who oppose a piece of legislation have an additional weapon at their disposal: the filibuster. The concern of Democratic supporters of the DREAM Act was that Republicans might filibuster the bill, and that this would amount to a humiliating defeat. So naturally, they did the logical thing and simply surrendered.

Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid pulled the bill from consideration when it became clear that he didn’t have enough votes to avoid a filibuster. He might re-submit it, or he might not.

It doesn’t matter. The DREAM Act is dead. That is clear. The only question is whether supporters should direct their anger at the party that attacked the bill, or the one that abandoned it.

Answer: Both.

Ruben Navarrette Jr. is a nationally syndicated columnist, a regular commentator for NPR, and a weekly contributor to CNN.COM.

So why the big hoopla?

Is this another example of how America is simply so polarized that we’re primed for a fight?

Conflict drives theater. It fuels drama. It excites. It draws ratings and eyeballs. It gets attention for vocal politicians at a moment when they might not otherwise be in the limelight. It rallies political bases during a pivotal campaign fundraising season as the mid-term elections approach.

Why is this such a big controversy? Maybe because the healthcare fight is over and the Left and the Right still have a raging cauldron of angst boiling inside of them, always eager for a chance to spill over. Or maybe it’s because the pain of 9/11 cuts so deep and we’re still at war in the Middle East, the explanation which would be most justifiable.

But if you really think it through, this should not be that big a debate. As Americans we should encourage freedom even when it makes us uncomfortable, especially when it makes us uncomfortable. Otherwise, we will find ourselves calling for self-censorship and self-constraint by all Muslims, the vast majority of whom have nothing to do with the terrorists who destroyed the World Trade Center and took so many lives indiscriminately. How can it be in the American spirit to ask an entire religion, with an estimated 7 million believers on our soil to forever be apologists and live in shame, when they themselves have committed no crime?

There are two main reasons why we should stand back and let the group planning the mosque – as well as the local zoning commission – make their own decision. The first is that our Constitution clearly states: “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”

Freedom of religion and the way and place where people practice it is right up there with freedoms of speech and assembly in the American pantheon of principles. How can we not recall that the very quest for such liberties impelled the early Pilgrims to leave England for what was then a harsh and rugged land? It’s the same reason so many people of so many creeds have flocked here over the centuries. And it is at the bedrock of our nation’s diversity. Nowhere is this more evident than in the very community in question: New York City, the original melting pot and today the most colorful and dazzling tapestry of diverse cultures, languages, religions, races and ethnicities in the world.

For people such as the former Governor of Alaska to decry the building of a place of worship that would embody the very spirit of multiculturalism and tolerance that characterizes New York City is downright bizarre and pure political theater. Imagine how riled up her base is getting? The Right is vocally incensed about the concept of a mosque so near to what has gone from being a sacred commercial and financial site to hallowed American ground. Regardless of the level of sincerity versus the level of politically motivated agitation, the debate is sure to spark increased fundraising to fuel a Republican rebound in the upcoming elections.

But that leads me to the second reason we should stand back and observe as this minority religious group exercises its freedoms and responsibilities in peace: one of the most basic tenets of Christianity itself, which is important since Christianity is an essential philosophical contingent of the Right Wing and more broadly the predominant spiritual fabric of our nation. This is not the moment to attack the Muslim group planning its mosque. This is not the moment – as a nation – to dwell on our pain and loss. For any sincere Christian this is the moment to turn the other cheek. I am not about to quote scripture or cite verses, but we all know what I’m talking about. To reference popular Conservative bumper sticker vernacular: What Would Jesus Do?

So whether we view the issue as Americans or as Christians, or as both, we should stop yelling and yammering about the horror of this action. We should respect all people’s rights, including Muslims. We should acknowledge and internalize that the folks hoping to build this mosque are not the same people who hurt us on 9/11. And, most importantly, we should stand up for American principles of freedom. Because doing so when it’s easy is merely convenience. Doing so when it’s tough requires courage and faith in their underlying wisdom. And it’s also what makes them principles.

"Los Cantores"

Reflections on the art of Carla Veliz, featured in the Instituto Cultural de México’s “Remarkable Paradigms” exhibit for International Women’s Month.

Staring at Carla Veliz’s Los Cantores, I swoon with the rhythms implied in its curves and undulating lines. I yearn to tap my feet in unison with the festive percussion of a geometrically rendered pineapple pattern in the background. I am inspired by the pair of lovers interlaced and framed within the voluptuous and fiery heart of a Latina, represented by a ruby mane shaped like a corazón. The two dance and jointly hold a malleable guitar as their figures intertwine indistinguishably. Who is strumming? Who is playing? Who is watching? None of it matters as the cantores fuse into one kaleidoscopic being, two Latinos singing, dancing and loving as one vivid manifestation of culture and passion.

I sit in another room, and yet again I cannot help but stare, fighting back my strict, traditional upbringing. My eyes open wide as a fascinated child’s, absorbing a vast landscape of muted tones, ochers and browns, rust and hints of the pale blue sky of yet another in a seemingly endless series of melancholically squandered afternoons fading into dusk. A swath of tattered screen spanning the vertical length of the canvas transports me to moments trapped behind a closed porch door, listening to the adults converse outside and yearning to be heard. The words grooved onto the canvas – “Tenia tanto que decir, pero nadie me escuchaba” – lament the unrequited desire for expression, for acknowledgement, for validation. “I had so much to say, but no one would listen.”

They say it’s not polite to stare, but in this case it’s okay because in studying Carla Veliz’s works of art you are taking a long, hard look at your self. Her works speak directly to the diverse soul of Latino culture: capturing a dazzling range of emotions and imagery, from figurative to abstract, from celebration to sorrow, from longing to loss, from shimmering beauty to foreboding darkness. But in her ambitious artistic odyssey, something magical happens amidst swirls of paint, explosions of wax and fragments of found objects colliding and fusing: Carla Veliz transcends her roots and her context. She taps into currents that run universally through all of us. Love, danger, joy, tragedy – at times surely experienced as a Latina raised along the US-Mexico border, a mother, a wife, a daughter, a sister, a friend – are presented in such a way through Carla’s paintings that we are reminded that the common truths that bind us together outweigh the nuances which render us unique.

Carla Veliz

I have always believed that the border is not just an end, but a beginning. Carla Veliz’s work is evidence of this optimistic concept. For not only did her life and career commence where our nations meet, but her oeuvre constantly reinforces the hope that the border can generate not only discord but harmony, not only chaos but order, not only war but peace. It is a reminder that through artistic expression diverse people and disparate visions – much like contrasting colors and incongruent materials – can be brought together and made whole.

In anticipation of an exhibit of Carla Veliz’s work by the Insituto Cultural de México in acknowledgement of International Women’s Month, I spoke with her in hopes of unearthing further insights into the artist and person behind the colorful canvasses. The interview follows in its entirety. By all means, feel free to leave your manners behind, become lost in the moment and stare. In doing so you may contribute not only to the fulfillment of the artist’s lifelong wish to be seen and heard but also to your own ongoing quest for self-discovery, enrichment and transcendence. After all, if Carla Veliz’s work teaches us anything, it’s that borders are meant to be crossed.

Rudy Ruiz: How has growing up on the border made it easy or natural for you to cross the line in your life? In terms of from one style of painting to another? From one professional role to another, painter to actress, art director/advertising professional to artist, mother/wife to entrepreneur? Drawing from Latino culture but speaking to a broader audience?

"I am neither from here, nor from there." 2008, mmoc, 60 x 72 in.

Carla Veliz: I believe that the versatility of my work has a lot to do with me being from a small border town. One must be willing to go up and down, right or left, fast and slow in order to survive. And in order to thrive, one must choose wisely, especially when you only are presented with one option. I had to stay or to go, and I left, but all of it remained with me as I started a new life in the US. As life went on I had to apply the same principal to all that I do and that I am. My life literally became a painting, other people started to find treasures in it, one by one, and then I realized it was taking great form, and I started to embrace it. By this I mean that what once was consider my handicap – “being Latina” – later on became my greatest asset. Even though I grew up right on the other side of the river, it took another country to allow me to come to terms with – and accept, love and embrace – the person I had been born to be.

Rudy Ruiz: What’s your ultimate goal with your art? How would you like to be remembered someday?

Carla Veliz: I tend to express what I feel, at times sadness, anger, or ecstasy, then at the end always find tranquility, peace, and hope. I do not want my art to be a monotonous repetition. My life is definitely not monotonous. If my art becomes too mechanical, I step back and start again, still going to the same destination but perhaps needing to create a new route. I just want to be a vehicle to the viewer, the one that encounters my work and might take a few more minutes to meditate upon my art. If my creations can touch one person, I will be more that content.

As far as how would I like to be remembered, well… that I lived, and loved, that I cried and cared, that I tried to be sensitive to all my surroundings and that all my dreams where based on reality.

Rudy Ruiz: Who are your most profound artistic influences?

"I had so much to say, but no one would listen." 2008, mmoc, 60 x 72 in.

Carla Veliz: The best colorist that ever existed: Henri Matisse. Of course, Pablo Picasso for his boldness and creativeness. The romance of Amedeo Modigliani portraits… I love the Mexican muralists – Tamayo, Rivera, Siqueiros, Orozco – their colors, forms, scale. Great admiration for Hans Hofmann. Applaud the works of Helen Frankenthaler & Joan Mitchell, two remarkable, strong female artists. Also deKooning, and Robert Rauschenberg’s works are amazing! I can go on and on, but like Alberto Mijangos often said, “We are all artists.” At first, I didn’t really get it, but now I think that yes, we all are, some are artists who actually create, and some who inspire.

Rudy Ruiz: Do you think it’s harder for Latino/Latina artists to break through on the US and global art scene?

Carla Veliz: Today, I don’t think it is as hard as it was before. More and more, our voices are being heard, and we are starting to matter. We have so much to share, and the world wants to listen. It could be mere curiosity or a trend, but as they get to know more about who we are and how we think, the walls of discrimination, stereotypes, apathy or ignorance start to crumble down.

Rudy Ruiz has been hailed as a cultural visionary. A published author and multicultural advocate, Ruiz is an acclaimed multicultural communications entrepreneur. He founded Red Brown and Blue as well as Interlex, one of the nation’s leading advocacy marketing agencies ranked by Ad Age as one of the Top US Agencies across all disciplines. Prior to that, Ruiz earned his BA in Government at Harvard College and his Masters in Public Policy at the Harvard Kennedy School.