José is not a poster person. He’s not a starving doe-eyed child. He isn’t a struggling single mother. He isn’t bravely fighting cancer. He hasn’t risen to national prominence despite humble beginnings and devastating misfortune. He’s 45. He is Mexican. His face is weathered from too much time in the sun. He is obese from too much of a gringo diet. He has bipolar disorder, and does not really understand his disease. He speaks very little English. His hands are large and roughened from so much real work. And he is undocumented.