In the northwest corner of Arkansas, immigrants, mostly from Mexico, began arriving in the 1980s to work in the region’s thriving poultry industry.

For many here, this was ultimately a welcomed development. Immigrants, they say, are a big part of the region’s extraordinary economic success. Chris Allred, who has lived in this area all his life, doesn’t see it that way.

Mr. Allred, a recruiter at a trucking company, does not like people who enter the country illegally. He believes they are “an army of takers,” filling spots in emergency rooms and schools that American citizens have to pay for. He does not like President Trump, either, but one of the reasons he voted for him last year was that it seemed as though he would actually take action on immigration.

“We don’t have an industrial base anymore,” Mr. Allred told me over dinner at his apartment in Bentonville. “We have trillions in national debt. It’s impossible. We can’t take on millions more people. It’s financially not possible.”

But something has happened in Mr. Allred’s life that is bumping up against this view. He finally met, and married, the love of his life. And his wife is in the country illegally.

Mr. Allred’s story may be unusual, but his views of immigration are not. For many Americans, a loose border is like a house with no door, or a club with no membership restrictions. It makes belonging, or being inside, mean less. But once the door is closed and the question becomes what to do with those inside, things can get complicated quickly.