By Meg Foley Yoder
“Everybody… came over and asked me, what are you doing here, Sister? And I said, restoring human dignity, that’s what we’re doing.”
At a Carr–Ryan Conversation hosted by the Harvard Kennedy School and co-sponsored by the Committee on Ethnicity, Migration, Rights (FAS) and Fuerza Latina, Sister Norma Pimentel, Executive Director of Catholic Charities of the Rio Grande Valley, discussed the day-to-day realities of humanitarian work at the Texas–Mexico border, emphasizing how dignity, conscience, and community response shape her approach. Widely recognized for her leadership, including being named to the TIME 100 Most Influential People list in 2020, Pimentel kept the focus on the conditions facing families rather than on personal distinctions. In conversation with Professor Jacqueline Bhabha—Professor of the Practice of Health and Human Rights at the Harvard T. H. Chan School of Public Health, the Jeremiah Smith Jr. Lecturer in Law at Harvard Law School, and Adjunct Lecturer in Public Policy at the Kennedy School—she traced the development of her work from its beginnings in the 1980s to the sharply restrictive environment of the present.
Formative Encounters and Moral Clarity
Pimentel began by recounting her early encounters with migrants fleeing violence in Central America. Working at a shelter near the border, she saw families arrive late at night after crossing the river, often soaked, muddy, and visibly traumatized. One young man showed her injuries from torture. Those encounters, she said, made the stakes unmistakably clear. During a protest related to U.S. involvement in El Salvador, she chose to stand with community members even as police began making arrests. “That, for me, was my first experience of understanding what I stood for, what my life was all about,” she said. “One day I said yes, go ahead and arrest me, because it made sense.” The moment clarified her responsibility to speak for those “who really didn’t have a voice.”
Bhabha asked about the origins of Catholic Charities’ formal border work. Pimentel described how Bishop John Fitzpatrick approved the first shelter despite criticism from people who argued the Church should not assist those arriving at the border. She recalled his response: “There is nothing wrong when you feed somebody and clothe somebody and care for somebody.” He faced backlash for taking that stance, but the principle held. That early decision, she noted, established a framework for responding to migrant arrivals in the decades that followed.
Community Response and Dignity in Practice
Turning to more recent years, Pimentel described a moment when families were being dropped off after federal processing in visibly poor condition. “They were all dirty, muddy, crying, dehydrating. Frightened, you know, in terrible condition,” she said. Although these families carried documents allowing them to proceed with asylum claims, they had nowhere to go and no support system. Pimentel secured space in a parish hall, where volunteers helped families get clean clothes, meals, medical attention, and the ability to contact relatives.
Local response, she emphasized, cut across politics and professions. “Everybody in the community came forward,” she said. “It didn’t matter whether you’re Republican, Democrat, whether you’re a teacher, a doctor, an owner of a business.” City and county officials asked what was needed and stepped in without hesitation. What motivated them, she said, was direct human contact: the recognition that families arriving in distress needed immediate, concrete help.
Pimentel described how the respite center operated, often serving families for fewer than twenty-four hours. Showers, she said, quickly became one of the most transformative services. Volunteers greeted families individually and focused on ensuring that each person felt seen rather than processed. “We were restoring human dignity because of the way we started to treat them,” she said. She recalled mothers crying in the shower stalls, overwhelmed by the sudden return of basic comfort and privacy.
“When you see a family, a mother, they’re no different than us. They identify with those children as their own children, and what they would be going through, and it changes everything.”
The exchange opened onto a broader discussion of how direct contact reshapes public attitudes. Pimentel recounted working with a vendor who arrived at the center announcing she was “100 percent against” what Pimentel was doing. Rather than debate, Pimentel walked her through the shelter, introduced her to mothers and children, and explained why they were there. The transformation was immediate. By the end of the visit, the woman told her she was now “100 percent in favor” of the work, a change her husband later confirmed in a follow-up call offering help. Bhabha noted that this shift mirrored what research consistently shows: people who live in neighborhoods with large immigrant communities tend to be “much more pro-immigrant or much less hostile” than people who have never met an immigrant family. Direct encounter, she said, generates sympathy rather than fear.
Policy Shifts and a Changing Landscape
Audience members asked how recent administrations have shaped border conditions. Pimentel said the difference is striking: “There’s nobody coming,” she noted, explaining that most people who attempt to enter are immediately deported or sent to Mexico or other countries. The few who reach Catholic Charities today are usually individuals released from detention on bond, and the organization helps them contact relatives and continue their journeys. Much of her current work now centers on long-established mixed-status families in South Texas, especially mothers and children who live with heightened fear and often avoid leaving their homes.
Another change, she said, is the deterioration of access to federal detention facilities. In earlier years, she was invited inside and regularly visited areas where children were held. Today, she no longer seeks access because she anticipates being denied. “The relationship with Border Patrol now is more distant,” she said.
Catholic Teaching, Public Conscience, and Individual Responsibility
Attendees asked how Catholics might address resistance to migrant support within their own communities. Pimentel pointed to the clear guidance offered by Pope Leo, noting that he has been “very forward in speaking in defense of immigrants and refugees” and encourages Catholics not to be silent when migrants are mistreated. She also referenced last week’s pastoral message issued by the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops in Baltimore, which she said affirmed that “there are certain things that we are not okay with” and that the Church must publicly denounce the mistreatment of people at the border. Yet beyond institutional statements, she stressed individual responsibility. “People are led to believe that by helping somebody, you’re breaking the law,” she said. Countering that misconception, she argued, requires speaking plainly about both legal obligations and moral duties.
“You should not let fear control you. If you don’t have courage, you can borrow it until you get your own. You need that courage so that you can live out who you need to be today.”
In the final exchange, Pimentel spoke directly to the audience about agency and responsibility. She emphasized that restoring dignity is not limited to large institutions or formal roles; it begins with individual choices. Anyone, she said, can offer help, correct misinformation, or stand beside people who feel unseen. She urged listeners not to underestimate the effect of small, consistent actions. “You matter, what you do matters, what you don’t do also matters,” she told them, adding that courage is often something people “borrow” at first until it becomes their own. The work ahead, she suggested, rests on ordinary acts of recognition and the willingness to treat those who arrive at the border as people rather than problems.
Kyle Faneuff/ Carr-Ryan Center for Human Rights
