Although all the guards that Laetitia’s mother and brother meet on their trip to the border speak to them politely—even kindly—they nevertheless choose not to allow mother and son across the border. In the end, it’s only the camera crew’s arrival that compels the guards to let them through, suggesting that the pursuit of accountability and transparency is an effective way of restoring justice in the face of oppressive power. Laetitia’s brother, who is only a young teenager, takes consistent notice of the guns that each border guard carries. Though the guards smile and treat the mother and son with at least outward respect, Laetitia’s brother’s eyes follow the guards’ hands as they fidget with and hook their fingers into their gun belts. The guards’ movements call attention to the fact that even though these particular border guards are behaving gently, they are capable (and implicitly allowed) to resort to violence if they see fit—and they inarguably have the upper hand in this situation.
Of course, just as Laetitia’s mother anticipates their state of limbo at the border and packs extra food and blankets, she might also have foreseen that the only way she’ll get a resolution of her issue is through media attention and dressed in her best clothes for television. When the crews arrive, Laetitia’s mother readily gives them interviews, knowing that being observed in their rigidity and inefficiency will put pressure on the border guards to let her cross to the United States or risk public disapproval. Indeed, the final guard who emerges from the U.S. border office is visibly nervous as the lights of the camera crew flash in his face. With the eyes of the networks’ TV viewership on him, he touches his gun belt, sizes up the cameras, and lets Laetitia’s mother and brother cross without comment on their declaration of citizenship. Here, the graphic novel subtly frames the encounter as a showdown between the guards’ guns and media’s camera, symbols of the government’s power versus the people’s. The camera wins in this situation, and it even records the precedent for other Indigenous people who might cross in the future. In this way, Borders optimistically suggests that calling attention and bearing witness to injustice can lead to real-world reform. However, the fact that the guards are only willing to honor the narrator and his mother’s sovereignty as Indigenous people after the news media show up suggests how reticent individual people may be to take it upon themselves to take a stand against oppression unless incentivized to do so.
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Power and Accountability Quotes in Borders
Borders Quotes
The border was actually two towns, though neither one was big enough to amount to anything. Coutts was on the Canadian side and consisted of the convenience store and gas station…the museum that was closed and boarded up…and a motel. Sweetgrass was on the American side, but all you could see was an overpass that arched across the highway and disappeared into the prairies.
Just hearing the names of these towns, you would expect that Sweetgrass, which is a nice name and sounds like it is related to other places such as Medicine Hat and Moose Jaw and Kicking Horse Pass, would be on the Canadian side, and that Coutts, which sounds abrupt and rude, would be on the American side.
But this was not the case.
In about five minutes, another guard came out with the first man. They were talking as they came, both men swaying back and forth like two cowboys headed for a bar or a gun fight.
We sat on a wood bench for about an hour before anyone came over to talk to us. This time it was a woman. She had a gun, too.
“Hi. I’m Inspector Pratt. I understand there is a little misunderstanding.”
“I’m going to visit my daughter in Salt Lake City. We don’t have any guns or beer.”
“It’s a legal technicality, that’s all.”
“My daughter’s Blackfoot, too.”
[Inspector Pratt’s] gun was silver. There were several chips in the wood handle…and the name “Stella” was scratched into the metal butt.
Mel turned out to be friendly. When he closed up for the night and found us still parked in the lot…he came over and asked us if our car was broken down or something. My mother thanked him for his concern and told him that we were fine…that things would get straightened out in the morning.
“You’re kidding. You’d think they could handle the simple things.”
“We got some apples and a banana, but we’re all out of ham sandwiches.”
“You know, you read about these things, but you just don’t believe it. You just don’t believe it.”
“Hamburgers would be even better because they got more stuff for energy.”
[The camera crew] mostly talked to my mother. Every so often one of the reporters would come over…and ask me questions about how it felt to be an Indian without a country. I told them we had a nice house on the reserve…and that my cousins had a couple of horses we rode when we went fishing.
The guard who came out to our car was all smiles. The television lights were so bright they hurt my eyes, and, if you tried to look through the windshield in certain directions, you couldn’t see a thing.



