More

Think you know the difference between criminal aliens and undocumented immigrants?

It's become apparent we may need a refresher course on human versus non-human beings.

Think you know the difference between criminal aliens and undocumented immigrants?

During the vice presidential debate on Oct. 4, 2016, Republican candidate Mike Pence referred to undocumented immigrants as "criminal aliens" at least three times.

When the topic turned to immigration, moderator Elaine Quijano asked Pence what he would tell undocumented immigrants who have not committed violent crimes and wish to stay in this country. That's when he uttered a two-word phrase that needs to quickly be removed from our shared vocabulary: "criminal aliens."

GIF from PBS Newshour.


Look, we get it. It's hard! Despite years of activists working to disassociate the word "alien" (and "illegal") from immigrants, sometimes your eyes don't work properly or you're real tired or something, and law-breaking extraterrestrial beings do look a whole lot like human beings just looking for a better life for themselves.

But have no fear. We're here to help you tell them apart!

This is a criminal alien. He's from outer space.

GIF from "E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial."

He's from another planet, and he's running away from the cops. Technically, he also just kidnapped a bunch of kids on bikes.

This is an undocumented immigrant. She's doing homework.

Photo by John Moore/Getty Images.

She's a high school sophomore and, like many high school students, she's doing her homework. She came to America with her family in 2000. Her dad works in construction.

The majority of undocumented immigrants say their number one reason for coming to the U.S. is to find a better life, inspired by the promise of the American dream.

This is a criminal alien. He's under arrest.

GIF from "Man of Steel."

His name is Zod and he's a former Kryptonian general. He's also definitely not from planet Earth. He was accused of treason and banished to the Phantom Zone. When he escaped, he tried to destroy Superman and take Earth down in the process. So, yeah, he's not very nice.

These guys are undocumented immigrants. They're also brothers. They helped with cleanup efforts after Hurricane Katrina.

Undocumented Mexican laborers Hermenegildo, Juan, Amadeo, and Juan Sanchez take English lessons in a church shelter for migrant workers in New Orleans. Photo by Mario Tama/Getty Images.

These brothers traveled together from their hometown of Paso Amapa, Mexico, to New Orleans shortly after Hurricane Katrina struck. They, like many others, came to the area to help with much of the cleanup work in the wake of the storm.

These are criminal aliens. They're from Mars.

Image from "Mars Attacks!" ©Warner Bros/Courtesy Everett Collection.

They tried to invade Earth in the 1996 movie "Mars Attacks!" and unlike undocumented immigrants, their heads explode when they hear the song "Indian Love Call."

This is a group of immigrants. They're eating dinner.

Immigrants at the Casa Del Migrante shelter, part of the Coalicion Pro Defensa, which aids immigrants and asylum applicants seeking entry into the United States. Photo by John Moore/Getty Images.

As of 2014, just over half of all undocumented immigrants in the U.S. are Mexican. Believe it or not, the estimated number of immigrants moving from Mexico to America has decreased since 2009, down from 6.4 million to 5.8 million in 2014.

This is a criminal alien. He's in a police lineup.

GIF from "Guardians of the Galaxy."

His name is Groot and he is an extraterrestrial being. He was arrested with the other "Guardians of the Galaxy" after he and his friend Rocket Racoon tried to capture another alien named Gamora, who was trying to take the Cosmic Cube from a human named Peter Quill, aka Star-Lord. Their story, while exciting, is a work of fiction.

This is an undocumented immigrant. She's a mom,  a community activist for immigration rights, and a small business owner.

Undocumented Mexican immigrant Jeanette Vizguerra holds her 3-month-old daughter Zury. Photo by John Moore/Getty Images.

She came to America with her husband in the late '90s, and all three of her children were born here and are American citizens. Research shows that first generation immigrants commit less crime than native-born Americans. When it comes to second generation immigrants, the crime rate increases, but doesn't exceed the crime rate among native-born Americans, which makes sense, because a second generation immigrant was, most likely, born here.

This is a criminal alien. He's under serious arrest.

Image via ©Walt Disney Co./Courtesy Everett Collection.

His name is Loki and he's both a frost giant and an Asgardian prince. He was arrested for throwing an epic temper tantrum in New York City and leaving billions of dollars of damage and destruction in his wake.

This is an undocumented immigrant. She's a child with a doll and brightly colored gloves.

Salvadorian immigrant Stefany Marjorie, 8, holds her doll Rodrigo after crossing the Rio Grande from Mexico into the United States with her family. Photo by John Moore/Getty Images.

Crossing the border is not a decision made lightly. People crossing the border illegally risk their lives, traveling however they can, often in overcrowded vehicles and across dangerous terrain trying to find a better life for themselves and their families.

So, what's my point here?

The point is that saying "criminal aliens" instead of "undocumented immigrants" invokes the subtle implication that immigrants are sub-human or, even worse, not human at all.

Fortunately, language can change and terms are fluid so it's important to point out the obvious distinction between aliens from outer space who wish harm to planet Earth and human people coming in from another country simply because they want a better life for themselves and their families.

Saying "undocumented immigrants" reinforces the notion that undocumented immigrants, whether they arrived in the country through legal means or not, are still human beings deserving of dignity and respect.

Using terms like "illegal alien," or worse, "criminal aliens," as freely as Mike Pence did during the vice presidential debate, only perpetuates the implication that individuals who are in the country illegally are not really people at all.

It's time to retire that hurtful and inaccurate descriptor. We are all from this planet and deserve to be treated as such.

And if anyone brings up these terms and you get confused as to which is which, feel free to pull up this handy guide for an instant refresher.

via PeopleStanding / Instagram

One of the best things about social media is that there are some pages that deputize the general public to find great content and submit it to be published. It's like harnessing a mind-hive of funny to create a place where it can be enjoyed by everyone.

The People Standing page on Instagram is a great example of this type of crowdsourcing for comedy. The site has over 140,000 followers and features candid, user-submitted pictures of people standing awkwardly that were taken all over the globe.

Here are 17 of the best.

Keep Reading Show less
via PeopleStanding / Instagram

One of the best things about social media is that there are some pages that deputize the general public to find great content and submit it to be published. It's like harnessing a mind-hive of funny to create a place where it can be enjoyed by everyone.

The People Standing page on Instagram is a great example of this type of crowdsourcing for comedy. The site has over 140,000 followers and features candid, user-submitted pictures of people standing awkwardly that were taken all over the globe.

Here are 17 of the best.

Keep Reading Show less
True

Each year, an estimated 1.8 million people in the United States are affected by cancer — most commonly cancers of the breast, lung, prostate, and blood cancers such as leukemia. While not everyone overcomes the disease, thanks to science, more people are surviving — and for longer — than ever before in history.

We asked three people whose lives have been impacted by cancer to share their stories – how their lives were changed by the disease, and how they're using that experience to change the future of cancer treatments with the hope that ultimately, in the fight against cancer, science will win. Here's what they had to say.

Celine Ryan, 55, engineer database programmer and mother of five from Detroit, MI

Photo courtesy of Celine Ryan

In September 2013, Celine Ryan woke up from a colonoscopy to some traumatic news. Her gastroenterologist showed her a picture of the cancerous mass they found during the procedure.

Ryan and her husband, Patrick, had scheduled a colonoscopy after discovering some unusual bleeding, so the suspicion she could have cancer was already there. Neither of them, however, were quite prepared for the results to be positive -- or for the treatment to begin so soon. Just two days after learning the news, Ryan had surgery to remove the tumor, part of her bladder, and 17 cancerous lymph nodes. Chemotherapy and radiation soon followed.

Ryan's treatment was rigorous – but in December 2014, she got the devastating news that the cancer, once confined to her colon, had spread to her lungs. Her prognosis, they said, was likely terminal.

But rather than give up hope, Ryan sought support from online research, fellow cancer patients and survivors, and her medical team. When she brought up immunotherapy to her oncologist, he quickly agreed it was the best course of action. Ryan's cancer, like a majority of colon and pancreatic cancers, had been caused by a defect on the gene KRAS, which can result in a very aggressive cancer that is virtually "undruggable." According to the medical literature, the relatively smooth protein structure of the KRAS gene meant that designing inhibitors to bind to surface grooves and treat the cancer has been historically difficult. Through her support systems, Ryan discovered an experimental immunotherapy trial at the National Institutes of Health (NIH) in Bethesda, MD., and called them immediately to see if she was eligible. After months of trying to determine whether she was a suitable candidate for the experimental treatment, Ryan was finally accepted.

The treatment, known as tumor-infiltrating lymphocyte therapy, or TIL, is a testament to how far modern science has evolved. With this therapy, doctors remove a tumor and harvest special immune cells that are found naturally in the tumor. Doctors then grow the cells in a lab over the next several weeks with a protein that promotes rapid TIL growth – and once the cells number into the billions, they are infused back into the patient's body to fight the cancer. On April 1, 2015, Ryan had her tumor removed at the NIH. Two months later, she went inpatient for four weeks to have the team "wash out" her immune system with chemotherapy and infuse the cells – all 148 billion of them – back into her body.

Six weeks after the infusion, Ryan and Patrick went back for a follow-up appointment – and the news they got was stunning: Not only had no new tumors developed, but the six existing tumors in her lungs had shrunk significantly. Less than a year after her cell infusion, in April 2016, the doctors told Ryan news that would have been impossible just a decade earlier: Thanks to the cell infusion, Ryan was now considered NED – no evaluable disease. Her body was cancer-free.

Ryan is still NED today and continuing annual follow-up appointments at the NIH, experiencing things she never dreamed she'd be able to live to see, such as her children's high school and college graduations. She's also donating her blood and cells to the NIH to help them research other potential cancer treatments. "It was an honor to do so," Ryan said of her experience. "I'm just thrilled, and I hope my experience can help a lot more people."

Patrice Lee, PhD, VP of Pharmacology, Toxicology and Exploratory Development at Pfizer

Photo courtesy of Patrice Lee

Patrice Lee got into scientific research in an unconventional way – through the late ocean explorer Jacques Cousteau.

Lee never met Cousteau but her dreams of working with him one day led her to pursue a career in science. Initially, Lee completed an undergraduate degree in marine biology; eventually, her interests changed and she decided to get a dual doctoral degree in physiology and toxicology at Duke University. She now works at Pfizer's R&D site in Boulder, CO (formerly Array BioPharma), leading a group of scientists who determine the safety and efficacy of new oncology drugs.

"Scientists focused on drug discovery and development in the pharmaceutical industry are deeply committed to inventing new therapies to meet unmet needs," Lee says, describing her field of work. "We're driven to achieve new medicines and vaccines as quickly as possible without sacrificing safety."

Among the drugs Lee has helped develop during her career, including cancer therapies, she says around a dozen are currently in development, while nine have received FDA approval — an incredible accomplishment as many scientists spend their careers without seeing their drug make it to market. Lee's team is particularly interested in therapies for brain metastases — something that Lee says is a largely unmet need in cancer research, and something her team is working on from a variety of angles. "Now that we've had rapid success with mRNA vaccine technology, we hope to explore what the future holds when applying this technology to cancers," Lee says.

But while evaluating potential cancer therapies is a professional passion of Lee's, it's also a mission that's deeply personal. "I'm also a breast cancer survivor," she says. "So I've been on the other side of things and have participated in a clinical trial."

However, seeing how melanoma therapies that she helped develop have affected other real-life cancer patients, she says, has been a highlight of her career. "We had one therapy that was approved for patients with BRAF-mutant metastatic melanoma," Lee recalls. "Our team in Boulder was graced by a visit from a patient that had benefited from these drugs that we developed. It was a very special moment for the entire team."

None of these therapies would be available, Lee says without rigorous science behind it: "Facts come from good science. Facts will drive the development of new drugs, and that's what will help patients."

Chiuying "Cynthia" Kuk (they/them) MS, 34, third-year medical student at Michigan State University College of Human Medicine

Photo courtesy of Cynthia Kuk

Cynthia Kuk was just 10 years old when they had a conversation that would change their life forever.

"My mother, who worked as a translator for the government at the time, had been diagnosed with breast cancer, and after her chemotherapy treatments she would get really sick," Kuk, who uses they/them pronouns, recalls. "When I asked my dad why mom was puking so much, he said it was because of the medicine she was taking that would help her get better."

Kuk's response was immediate: "That's so stupid! Why would a medicine make you feel worse instead of better? When I'm older, I want to create medicine that won't make people sick like that."

Nine years later, Kuk traveled from their native Hong Kong to the United States to do exactly that. Kuk enrolled in a small, liberal arts college for their Bachelor's degree, and then four years later started a PhD program in cancer research. Although Kuk's mother was in remission from her cancer at the time, Kuk's goal was the same as it had been as a 10-year-old watching her suffer through chemotherapy: to design a better cancer treatment, and change the landscape of cancer research forever.

Since then, Kuk's mission has changed slightly.

"My mom's cancer relapsed in 2008, and she ended up passing away about five years after that," Kuk says. "After my mom died, I started having this sense of urgency. Cancer research is such that you work for twenty years, and at the end of it you might have a fancy medication that could help people, but I wanted to help people now." With their mother still at the forefront of their mind, Kuk decided to quit their PhD program and enter medical school.

Now, Kuk plans to pursue a career in emergency medicine – not only because they are drawn to the excitement of the emergency room, but because the ER is a place where the most marginalized people tend to seek care.

"I have a special interest in the LGBTQ+ population, as I identify as queer and nonbinary," says Kuk. "A lot of people in this community and other marginalized communities access care through the ER and also tend to avoid medical care since there is a history of mistreatment and judgement from healthcare workers. How you carry yourself as a doctor, your compassion, that can make a huge difference in someone's care."

In addition to making a difference in the lives of LGBTQ+ patients, Kuk wants to make a difference in the lives of patients with cancer as well, like their mother had.

"We've diagnosed patients in the Emergency Department with cancer before," Kuk says. "I can't make cancer good news but how you deliver bad news and the compassion you show could make a world of difference to that patient and their family."

During their training, Kuk advocates for patients by delivering compassionate and inclusive care, whether they happen to have cancer or not. In addition to emphasizing their patient's pronouns and chosen names, they ask for inclusive social and sexual histories as well as using gender neutral language. In doing this, they hope to make medicine as a whole more accessible for people who have been historically pushed aside.

"I'm just one person, and I can't force everyone to respect you, if you're marginalized," Kuk says. "But I do want to push for a culture where people appreciate others who are different from them."