Reform simply creates a dilemma for immigrants

President Obama’s recent changes in immigration law enforcement inflame the new Congress while not doing nearly enough to fix a broken system or improve the lives of immigrants. As an immigration attorney and a Democrat, I fear these measures could be worse than nothing at all. Can a good, comprehensive immigration bill come out of a Congress infuriated about this? Are immigrants any safer if, after years of lying low, they come out of the shadows and register with Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) for a benefit that’s only temporary

By CARLA KIISKILA
For The Beachcomber

President Obama’s recent changes in immigration law enforcement inflame the new Congress while not doing nearly enough to fix a broken system or improve the lives of immigrants. As an immigration attorney and a Democrat, I fear these measures could be worse than nothing at all. Can a good, comprehensive immigration bill come out of a Congress infuriated about this? Are immigrants any safer if, after years of lying low, they come out of the shadows and register with Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) for a benefit that’s only temporary?

Two weeks ago the president announced that he will now permit some undocumented immigrants to temporarily defer deportation if they come forward and register with the government.  Local law enforcement will change priorities in reporting immigrants to ICE.

Despite all the political hullabaloo, Obama’s action falls well within the scope of the president’s duties. He doesn’t have the budget to deport all 11.3 million undocumented immigrants, so he is prioritizing criminals and deferring others. This is not a Constitutional crisis or an imperial executive run amok.

So what does this mean for undocumented immigrants in Washington and here on Vashon? I’m afraid not much. I’ve pondered whether I should advise my clients to come forward and take advantage of this plan. For many, it would not help at all. For others, it offers temporary relief while giving the government permanent access to personal information.

Parents of U.S. citizens and lawful residents can apply to defer deportation for three years at a time, and “dreamers,” young people brought here as children, can defer for two-year periods with no age cap for applicants. But to be eligible, immigrants must leave their quiet, under-the-radar lives, walk into a government office and offer personal information that could later be used to find and deport them.

When deferred deportation for dreamers was announced in 2012, only 600,000 applied, half those eligible. Even though it means temporary relief and a chance to go to college, many are leery of registering with the government. It offers a breather, but there’s no permanent relief for dreamers or their parents.

The reason there is still no permanency is because Obama has not changed and cannot change the law. He can only change the focus of enforcement. The next president could change things back, or Congress could pass an immigration law denying this relief. That’s why I’m not dancing in the streets over this.

If you arrived in this country to escape terror, rejoin your family, increase opportunity or just work to survive, what risks are you willing to take for a temporary reprieve from deportation? What benefits would be sufficient to overcome these risks?

For some, the daily fear of being ripped away from family might be enough to seek even temporary relief.  The fear is constant and realistic.

One of the best people I have ever known was an undocumented immigrant. During 20 years in the U.S., he worked himself up from field laborer to owning an appliance store. He donated heavily to schools and church, took children off the street and got them into school, and cared for his wife’s sister and her son while her husband served in Iraq and Afghanistan. He even helped the U.S. Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) apprehend international drug smugglers.

This man was picked up for not wearing his seat belt and delivered to ICE because he had no papers. I could not stop his deportation, despite his sitting in jail for three years while we fought it. He lost his family, business and life. His only wrongdoing was coming here to create a life of hard work and charity.

His children are U.S. citizens. Maybe he could have registered for temporary deferred action. But how long would it last? He once had deferred action status while he worked with the DEA. But when that operation was over, his deferral was over.

Between 2009, when Obama took office, and 2013, the U.S. deported 2 million people and returned 1.8 million. The difference between those deported and returnees is process. Deportees had a hearing before a judge to present their cases for legal status. Returnees never even got to court, even those who might have a claim to legitimacy. They were turned around at the border or gave up after months in immigration jail. Sadly, I’ve filed motions to close cases when clients couldn’t stand to sit in jail any longer, even with a good case.

My Finnish great grandparents sneaked into this country in 1903 avoiding the draft. My cousin’s wife walked across a bridge from Canada 40 years ago, without inspection. My husband’s grandparents fled Russian pogroms and political imprisonment in Siberia and entered Seattle without permission. And one of my clients ran away from men shooting at him because he was gay in a country known for allowing gay murder. He entered the U.S. without inspection. He, like all of them, broke the law. The only difference between this client and my family is that he went through immigration court and is now lawfully present and a Vashon Islander. My family, like many, is still undocumented.

The U.S. has tightened its borders and made it harder to hire undocumented workers. And we have managed to absorb those who have come to live and work, benefitting from their skills, labor and intelligence. Now Obama wants to focus on deporting those who actually harm our society instead of sending real benefactors away.

If only we could be sure it would stick.

— Carla Kiiskila is an immigration attorney who lives on Vashon.