Published: December 29
Twelve-year-old
Jason Penate spent the holidays hanging close by his father. They picked out a
Christmas tree and decorated the front window of their Gainesville, Va., home
with candy canes, and Jason tried very hard not to think about whether his
father would still be here in the new year.
Jorge Penate, a
Guatemalan national who came to the United States illegally in 1997, has a
hearing scheduled Monday that will determine whether he can stay in the
country. A drunken driving arrest two years ago launched deportation
proceedings and cast his family’s future into uncertainty.
Jason wrote a
letter to the immigration judge, explaining that the three days his father was
detained in 2011 “were the worst days of my life” and asking not to be
separated from him again. “If he does have to leave I think every day of my
life is going to be the worst,” Jason wrote.
More than 1
million illegal immigrants were deported in the past three years, a record
number reflecting increased enforcement efforts under the Obama administration.
The crackdown has spun the lives of hundreds of thousands of U.S. citizens —
including children like Jason — into upheaval.
In fiscal 2012,
an estimated 150,000 U.S.-citizen children had a parent deported, according to
a study by Human Impact Partners, a health advocacy group.
Concerns about
the fate of these children are adding an emotional pitch to the call for
comprehensive immigration reform. Advocates are urging Congress to create a
path to citizenship for undocumented immigrants, allowing divided families to
be reunited and preventing children from having to live with the daily fear
that they could lose their parents.
Young people
are themselves calling for change. This month, more than a dozen children and
teenagers delivered thousands of letters to members of Congress from children
whose lives have been — or could be — upended by deportation. Some spoke at a
news conference, their faces barely visible over the lectern.
“What if
immigration broke up your family? Would you like it?” asked 11-year old Charlie
Hoz-Pena, a U.S. citizen from Homestead, Fla., whose father was deported to
Mexico last year.
Emboldened by
President Obama’s authorization of temporary legal status for young
undocumented immigrants, many of these “Dreamers” are now saying they can’t be
satisfied without a more secure future for their parents, too.
The president’s
program “should not just be for students, it should be for families — to stop
this pain,” said Hareth Andrade-Ayala, 20, an Arlington County resident who
secured a work permit through the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals
program in 2012. Now she is organizing a campaign to prevent her father’s
deportation.
Crime and consequences
Those who
oppose amnesty for illegal immigrants say these are the consequences of illegal
activity. Ira Mehlman, spokesman for the Federation for American Immigration
Reform, said that committing any kind of crime has ramifications for families
and that immigration violations should not be exceptions.
“Children
should not be used as human shields,” Mehlman said. “Just because you have kids
does not mean that they should shield you from the consequences of your own
actions, which is knowingly violating the laws of the United States.”
Immigration
officers have discretion to show leniency to law-abiding people who have been
in the country a long time and are raising children who are citizens. In
August, the acting director of Immigration and Customs Enforcement issued a
“parental interest directive” to help manage cases involving detained parents
and to clarify when officers may, on a case-by-case basis, seek alternatives to
detention, with children’s welfare in mind.
“ICE is focused
on smart, effective immigration enforcement that prioritizes the removal of
criminal aliens, recent border crossers and egregious immigration law
violators, such as those who have been previously removed from the United
States,” said Nicole Navas, an ICE spokeswoman.
The
deportations have a ripple effect, advocates say. A 2010 Urban Institute study
looked at the consequences of parent arrest, detention and deportation on
nearly 200 children from 85 families in six locations. Most families lost a
working parent, and housing instability and food insecurity were prevalent.
About two-thirds of the children experienced changes in their eating and
sleeping habits in the months afterward. More than half said they cried a lot
and were more fearful. A third showed more anger or aggression.
Most deported
parents leave their children in the United States with a spouse or another
caregiver. About 5,100 children are in the foster care system at any given
time, according to an estimate by the Applied Research Center, which advocates for
immigration reform.
“At the end of
the day, there’s no good outcome for a kid who has a parent detained or
deported,” said Wendy Cervantes, vice president for immigration and child
rights policy at First Focus, a children’s advocacy group. “No matter what, you
are causing harm to that child and turning their world upside down.”
Changing laws
From the
outside, the Penates seem like a lot of their upwardly mobile suburban
neighbors. Their lives are built around work, long commutes and their son’s busy
soccer schedule.
Dianne Twinam
Penate, a U.S.-born citizen, knew that Jorge Penate was undocumented when they
fell in love in 2001. But the couple thought his status could change after they
married.
They applied
for legal residency in 2002, by then parents with a newborn, only to learn that
the laws had changed and there was no path to citizenship for someone who had
entered illegally, as Jorge had. Back in 1997, he was twice turned away at the
border trying to enter from Mexico before he successfully crossed into the
United States.
They resolved
to make the best life they could. From an entry-level job in commercial real
estate, Twinam Penate rose to become a senior vice president of a major
company.
Jorge Penate
started a home-maintenance business, giving him the flexibility to be Jason’s
primary caregiver. He’s the one who wakes with his son, makes sure he’s dressed
and ready for school, walks him to the bus stop and helps him with his
homework. Jason is a nearly straight-A student in a gifted program at school.
But all their
forward momentum lurched to a stop when Penate was arrested for misdemeanor
drunken driving in November 2011. Police determined he had a blood-alcohol
content of 0.08, the legal limit in Virginia. Authorities checked his immigration
status against an FBI database, and he was transferred to ICE custody.
He said he
understands the potential consequences of drinking and driving and called the
arrest “the biggest mistake of my life.” But, he wrote to the court, he hopes
the one-time lapse in judgment does not result in permanently tearing his
family apart. In the months that followed, Penate pleaded guilty to a lesser
reckless-driving charge and lost his license, making it more difficult to work.
An immigration hearing was set.
The family
talks about the possibility of moving to Guatemala together if Penate has to
leave, but they worry about the violence and the uncertainty of finding work or
good schools.
They hired a
lawyer and solicited 60 letters of support from neighbors, co-workers and
friends. They also launched an online petition, which has more than 1,000
signatures.
Twinam Penate
said she and her husband have always tried to make the best life possible for
their son. She now dreads that her husband might have to leave and the effect
it would have on her son.
“I’m just
worried that he would never recover,” she said.
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