Has any other word in 2018 been as responsible for so much as “caravan”?
By definition, a caravan is a company of people traveling through a hostile region. You travel in a caravan for protection. When you feel powerless, traveling in a group gives you some sense of power. But there is no protecting the caravan of migrants who have journeyed to Donald Trump’s America.
To President Trump and his supporters, a caravan is made up of invaders and criminals. A caravan carries drugs and diseases. A caravan must be stopped at all costs, even if it means shutting down the United States government.
As a word, “caravan” is a politically expedient bludgeon, part of a decades-long project started by anti-immigrant groups (NumbersUSA, Center for Immigration Studies and Federation for American Immigration Reform, to name a few) using dehumanizing vocabulary to describe immigrants in nefarious, fear-inducing ways. “Illegal aliens” having “anchor babies” arriving in a “caravan.” At its most effective, this is language as a barrier. It says: “You’re an alien — you’re nothing like me.” It’s also a source of misinformation, as it is not illegal to apply for asylum. This is language as a weapon.
Junior se sentó junto a su madre, María (detrás de él), durante una protesta frente a policías. El padre de Junior habría sido asesinado por pandillas en Honduras. Crédito Russell Monk para The New York Times 
Stanley, proveniente de Honduras, y Elsa, de Guatemala, se conocieron en el camino a Tijuana, México. Stanley habló de lo peligrosa y difícil que era la vida para él y su familia en su país.Russell Monk para The New York Times
Defending the use of tear gas on the caravan that trekked up from Central America this year, which included children, President Trump said, “First of all, the tear gas is a very minor form of the tear gas itself — it’s very safe.” Then he asked, “Why is a parent running up into an area where they know the tear gas is forming and it’s going to be formed and they’re running up with a child?”
Because as long as parents love their children, they will run toward anything that may, just may, give them a shot at a better life, even if it means hurting them.
The history of the United States is a history of caravans arriving from different parts of the world. Why did they have to leave? What did they leave behind when they left what they had to leave? What did they take with them? How do they hold on to hope?
Juan Carlos, 16, selling cigarettes near Tijuana. The maras, or gangs, who he said killed two of his uncles, were pressuring him to join and he fled Honduras to save his own life. 
Joenne, from Honduras, slept outside the migrant camp at the Benito Juarez Sports Complex in Tijuana, which the government closed because of unsanitary conditions. 
Juan, a former agricultural worker in Honduras, hoped to find a job across the border and send back money to his family. “I'm good,” he said in a call home. “God will look after me.” 
Walter, from El Salvador, holding a Mexican newspaper that published a photo of him with his eyes blacked out. He had been accused of aggravated robbery, but was later found to be innocent, he said. His goal was to cross legally into the United States, but he heard a rumor that Canada was going to give 3,000 visas to the migrants. “Now there’s a place I would like to go!” he said. 
Ernesto, his wife, Yesenia, and their youngest daughter, Rachel, on the Chaparral bridge crossing at the Mexico-United States border. They said they had learned about the caravan on Facebook and made the journey to Tijuana from Guatemala. Ernesto said that if they didn’t make the cut legally, a relative in Los Angeles had offered to pay someone to take them across the border. 
At 52, Nelson is older than many of the migrants on the long and arduous trip from Honduras. He said he has three children in Philadelphia and is legally allowed to enter the United States. But Nelson said he wanted to experience the solidarity of the caravan, so he was traveling with them. He will wait until the rest are able to cross, he said, before he does. 
Marina and Kenny are from Honduras. Kenny said the maras in Honduras had insisted that he join the gang and threatened him. Refusing would risk being hurt or even killed, he said, so he decided to leave with the caravan. Marina chose to come with him. When asked if they were in love, they responded, “Si...mucho!” A lot!
Photographs by Russell Monk. Text by Jose Antonio Vargas. Mr. Monk is a photographer who took these portraits in November and December. Mr. Vargas is the author of Dear America: Notes of an Undocumented Citizen.