Home.
Twenty-six days later (twenty-two of which were "on the ground" and four of which were on the road) and I am home. I am determined to carry my gratitude for my own good fortune into the days, weeks - years - to come.
I had the good fortune to work closely with about forty people this month, all of whom left their comfortable homes and families to spend a frenetic week trying to help the detainees make progress toward establishing their new homes. Saying "good-bye" to them at the end of each week was hard; so amazing how close people can grow through working together toward a common goal.
The women and children detained in Artesia left their homes because things were terribly wrong there. Many were victims of horrible domestic abuse; others were victims of gang extortion and violence. All wanted freedom and a better home for their children.
A few of our clients actually said they were content (for the moment) to call the detention facility "home," because, despite the awful food, viruses running rampant, lack of school and restrictions on their movement, they had escaped (for the time being) that from which they were running. While they want to be released on bond, make new homes with their loved ones in the U.S. and pursue their asylum claims from outside the facility, they were sincerely grateful for the temporary home in which they are now living. Imagine - grateful to be detained there.
The stories will haunt me forever, though in a way that can't compare with the trauma to the women who lived them. The faces of the women and children are fresh in my memory, and I will strive to hold onto them - we were not allowed to take photographs.
One memory that brings me to tears is of the children singing along with the theme we all know from Frozen: Let it Go! (I am not exaggerating when I tell you that the movie ran in the background several times per day, so I've heard it at least 50 times over the past weeks.) In the Spanish version, the familiar phrase in the chorus is "Libre soy...." which means "I am free...." One particularly difficult day, amidst mothers' stories of horrible violence, several of the children sang along with the video: "I am free!" We, behind the wall where only the attorneys could be, sobbed together.
Perhaps they are free - free from the horrors of their daily lives in their home countries, and perhaps they will experience even more freedom, if they are allowed to pay a bond and leave the facility. And, if all goes well, they will win their asylum cases and be free to build a new life in the U.S., as our own parents and ancestors did. But, many of them will not remain free. They will not be able to post bond, so they will stay detained. Sadly, some will not win their asylum cases, and will be sent back to the horrors they fear.
Home. Freedom. I hope for both of these for every family.
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
Day Eighteen: A Shift?
In Hebrew, numbers are represented by letters and a great deal of meaning is read into what word a "number" "spells." "18" spells "life" so it is considered a very lucky number. On this, my 18th day in Artesia, I am cautiously - C A U T I O U S L Y - optimistic that we witnessed a shift. (The superstitious side of me makes me hesitant to even put this into words.
We had a women on our client list today who was surprised that we called her in: ICE had set a reasonable bond amount for her before any of the usual hearings required to set a bond amount.
Why?
Preparing for the hearings is laborious. The AILA project has attorneys all of the country who take the contact information we, on the ground, obtain and contact friends and relatives thousands of miles away in order to prove good character, good connections to a person in the U.S. who will help ensure that the person will attend hearings, the financial means of these people to support a mother and her children; a mother who will not have work authorization.
Then, another team puts together a nearly complete motion for a bond hearing, with all of the supporting documents and a wonderful memo in support of the motion. Late at night, we here in Artesia, finalize these drafts, send them to the court and opposing counsel and get them into our electronic and paper files.
The hearings, a few days later, are the hearings I've been writing about: questions, accusations, inequities, arbitrarily low or high bonds, tears of joy and tears of frustration.
We wonder if the government, after four months of perhaps 20 such hearings a day, has begun to realize that the "going rate" is about $3,000 and that they could save themselves a LOT of money and work, by just granting that bond amount. This would save the expense of the process, but also the expense of housing the families. We will carefully watch the cases to see if, today, we detected a shift in the government's approach.
We had a women on our client list today who was surprised that we called her in: ICE had set a reasonable bond amount for her before any of the usual hearings required to set a bond amount.
Why?
Preparing for the hearings is laborious. The AILA project has attorneys all of the country who take the contact information we, on the ground, obtain and contact friends and relatives thousands of miles away in order to prove good character, good connections to a person in the U.S. who will help ensure that the person will attend hearings, the financial means of these people to support a mother and her children; a mother who will not have work authorization.
Then, another team puts together a nearly complete motion for a bond hearing, with all of the supporting documents and a wonderful memo in support of the motion. Late at night, we here in Artesia, finalize these drafts, send them to the court and opposing counsel and get them into our electronic and paper files.
The hearings, a few days later, are the hearings I've been writing about: questions, accusations, inequities, arbitrarily low or high bonds, tears of joy and tears of frustration.
We wonder if the government, after four months of perhaps 20 such hearings a day, has begun to realize that the "going rate" is about $3,000 and that they could save themselves a LOT of money and work, by just granting that bond amount. This would save the expense of the process, but also the expense of housing the families. We will carefully watch the cases to see if, today, we detected a shift in the government's approach.
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
Day Seventeen: Justice?
Why did the families come to THIS country? They do have other choices. Does this country still enjoy a good reputation for, at a bare minimum, justice and humanitarian treatment of people within its borders? Apparently, that is the reputation, but I am not convinced that this country is worthy of that reputation.
Today, this project's fifth asylum case was scheduled here on site. This means the family and the lawyer are here, in one of the temporary metal buildings with an A/V connection to an Immigration Court several states away. The view from here is usually the judge, the attorney for the government and the interpreter, sitting about 15-20 feet from one another, all on one little 20" screen. Each head is less than one inch in diameter. There goes reading facial expressions or body language. Often, the camera zooms in on the interpreter, so that the client has a better chance of understanding what is said. The client nor the attorney can see the judge when this happens.
The attorney representing the mother has left her practice behind for yet another week (she's come back from her first or second week of volunteering, when she met this client. She has flown across the country several days before the hearing in order to prepare the family for the hearing. She pays for all of her own expenses. No small sacrifice.
The hearing starts at 3:00. The attorney questions the mother about the chain of attacks, her abusive spouse for about 80 minutes. One must make a complete record, just in case you need to appeal the decision. At this point, the government's attorney and the judge announce that they stop at 4:30, and the case will need to be continued. The attorney must leave this place by 9:30 tomorrow, so they will try to squeeze the rest of her story, the cross-examination and the reading of the judge's decision into another 90 minutes tomorrow. If that isn't possible, the pro bono attorney will make another trip to lovely Artesia.
This woman has been living in prison-like setting for four months. Today was her opportunity to secure her future here. She could not even see the person listening to her in order to make that decision. The end of someone else's work day shut down her presentation of her painful past. Her attorney may need to sacrifice more time away from her practice and foot her own travel expenses if this is not concluded tomorrow.
Justice?
Today, this project's fifth asylum case was scheduled here on site. This means the family and the lawyer are here, in one of the temporary metal buildings with an A/V connection to an Immigration Court several states away. The view from here is usually the judge, the attorney for the government and the interpreter, sitting about 15-20 feet from one another, all on one little 20" screen. Each head is less than one inch in diameter. There goes reading facial expressions or body language. Often, the camera zooms in on the interpreter, so that the client has a better chance of understanding what is said. The client nor the attorney can see the judge when this happens.
The attorney representing the mother has left her practice behind for yet another week (she's come back from her first or second week of volunteering, when she met this client. She has flown across the country several days before the hearing in order to prepare the family for the hearing. She pays for all of her own expenses. No small sacrifice.
The hearing starts at 3:00. The attorney questions the mother about the chain of attacks, her abusive spouse for about 80 minutes. One must make a complete record, just in case you need to appeal the decision. At this point, the government's attorney and the judge announce that they stop at 4:30, and the case will need to be continued. The attorney must leave this place by 9:30 tomorrow, so they will try to squeeze the rest of her story, the cross-examination and the reading of the judge's decision into another 90 minutes tomorrow. If that isn't possible, the pro bono attorney will make another trip to lovely Artesia.
This woman has been living in prison-like setting for four months. Today was her opportunity to secure her future here. She could not even see the person listening to her in order to make that decision. The end of someone else's work day shut down her presentation of her painful past. Her attorney may need to sacrifice more time away from her practice and foot her own travel expenses if this is not concluded tomorrow.
Justice?
Day Sixteen: Blame
At the end of this entry, I will past a letter from the mayor of this fine town, blaming the lawyers here for the awful increase in releases and decrease in deportations. We are absolutely thrilled with this blame!
In the courtroom today, I witnessed a scene that involved multiple examples of blame. The woman escaped a horribly abusive relationship with her second husband, the father of the youngest of her three children. Her older two, both teenagers, are here with her in Artesia and have been for months.
This man abused her mercilessly and exploited her teenage daughter. When asked why she had only her two older children with her, she broke down and told the court that her youngest, 6, had been killed in a car accident a year ago, while her abuser was driving and texting. Everyone in the room cried with her. Though he was not present, we all blamed this man for everything she had described.
Then, the questioning turn to factors more related to the decision as to her bond. Just to be clear, the bond assessment is an analysis as to how likely the person is to show up for the hearings down the road, compared with the risk of her living in the shadows. Remember, these mothers want nothing more for themselves or their children than a path toward U.S. citizenship. With representation, the vast majority of the women show for their hearings.
One of the lines of questioning is about whether the woman paid a smuggler for any part of her trip. If she did, this is a strike against her, as the government argues that the money goes to gangs. Another line of questioning goes toward the connection between the person paying the bond and the woman. Will that person always know where to find the woman, and will the person help ensure that the woman will appear for her court hearings?
This woman did pay a coyote. Strike one. She is viewed to have contributed to a "national security risk" for our country. This despite the evidence that making the journey without assistance is incredibly dangerous and far less likely to be successful. They coyotes exploit the travelers, to be sure.
This woman's bond sponsor is her brother's friend. Her brother is undocumented and hasn't enough money to post a bond, but his friend, a U.S. citizen, was willing to help in this way. Strike two. This man won't always know how to find her and won't have an interest in ensuring her presence at her hearings.
She doesn't have an attorney secured for her family in the northeast. Strike three.
So, this tiny, grieving, brave woman who escaped an extremely abusive husband, one who abused her older child and is responsible for the death of her youngest, and made the dangerous trip to Texas, is unlikely to be released, as her bond was set too high for the sponsor to pay.
Who bears blame?
In the courtroom today, I witnessed a scene that involved multiple examples of blame. The woman escaped a horribly abusive relationship with her second husband, the father of the youngest of her three children. Her older two, both teenagers, are here with her in Artesia and have been for months.
This man abused her mercilessly and exploited her teenage daughter. When asked why she had only her two older children with her, she broke down and told the court that her youngest, 6, had been killed in a car accident a year ago, while her abuser was driving and texting. Everyone in the room cried with her. Though he was not present, we all blamed this man for everything she had described.
Then, the questioning turn to factors more related to the decision as to her bond. Just to be clear, the bond assessment is an analysis as to how likely the person is to show up for the hearings down the road, compared with the risk of her living in the shadows. Remember, these mothers want nothing more for themselves or their children than a path toward U.S. citizenship. With representation, the vast majority of the women show for their hearings.
One of the lines of questioning is about whether the woman paid a smuggler for any part of her trip. If she did, this is a strike against her, as the government argues that the money goes to gangs. Another line of questioning goes toward the connection between the person paying the bond and the woman. Will that person always know where to find the woman, and will the person help ensure that the woman will appear for her court hearings?
This woman did pay a coyote. Strike one. She is viewed to have contributed to a "national security risk" for our country. This despite the evidence that making the journey without assistance is incredibly dangerous and far less likely to be successful. They coyotes exploit the travelers, to be sure.
This woman's bond sponsor is her brother's friend. Her brother is undocumented and hasn't enough money to post a bond, but his friend, a U.S. citizen, was willing to help in this way. Strike two. This man won't always know how to find her and won't have an interest in ensuring her presence at her hearings.
She doesn't have an attorney secured for her family in the northeast. Strike three.
So, this tiny, grieving, brave woman who escaped an extremely abusive husband, one who abused her older child and is responsible for the death of her youngest, and made the dangerous trip to Texas, is unlikely to be released, as her bond was set too high for the sponsor to pay.
Who bears blame?
Saturday, October 18, 2014
Day Fourteen: An inspirational thank you letter.
Today, this letter arrived, with many VISA cash cards for the families' expenses while traveling, after being released. I thought you would enjoy reading it. I'm particularly hanging onto the clause at the end, "even just a little bit."
Day Thirteen: The Children
Our little spitfire (see day six) and her mother are leaving! Those of us who have grown so fond of her decided that, since she cannot become President of the U.S. because she wasn't born here, she will be Secretary of State one day. She has endeared herself to everyone here and I think we will be proud to say we knew her when.... I cannot describe the warmth and pride on her mother's face as we said goodbye. She is an amazing parent to have raised such a child under the most difficult of circumstances. I feel so proud to know them!
Again today, a child "celebrated" his birthday with us - this, his second. His mother was trying to appear happy about his special day, but her sorrow about him spending it here was very apparent.
Many of the teenagers speak a little English and like to practice it, so I try to talk with them about their interests, their dreams. We have learned to be careful about asking questions that would not be a problem in normal circumstances. For example, asking about one's family might draw out a painful description of a split family. But, these young people obviously crave conversation and interest from people other than the people with whom they spend long, uninteresting days.
The separation of the families who would prefer to be together is so sad to see. Today, we interviewed a woman with her 3 year old son asleep on her lap. The boy has a twin and the mother does not know where her daughter is. She cannot very well find out, either, from the inside of this detention center. We all cried.
Overall, the children are frighteningly calm. We know they are hungry for familiar food, for stimulation and for a normal life. They stay very close by their mothers' sides, and we never see them do anything but color and watch movies. Once in a great while, a child "misbehaves" and we find it refreshing to see some energy. Many children who are well beyond the age of napping spend the afternoon sleeping in their mothers' arms.
I hope to always remember the beautiful faces of the children.
Again today, a child "celebrated" his birthday with us - this, his second. His mother was trying to appear happy about his special day, but her sorrow about him spending it here was very apparent.
Many of the teenagers speak a little English and like to practice it, so I try to talk with them about their interests, their dreams. We have learned to be careful about asking questions that would not be a problem in normal circumstances. For example, asking about one's family might draw out a painful description of a split family. But, these young people obviously crave conversation and interest from people other than the people with whom they spend long, uninteresting days.
The separation of the families who would prefer to be together is so sad to see. Today, we interviewed a woman with her 3 year old son asleep on her lap. The boy has a twin and the mother does not know where her daughter is. She cannot very well find out, either, from the inside of this detention center. We all cried.
Overall, the children are frighteningly calm. We know they are hungry for familiar food, for stimulation and for a normal life. They stay very close by their mothers' sides, and we never see them do anything but color and watch movies. Once in a great while, a child "misbehaves" and we find it refreshing to see some energy. Many children who are well beyond the age of napping spend the afternoon sleeping in their mothers' arms.
I hope to always remember the beautiful faces of the children.
Thursday, October 16, 2014
Day Twelve. Separations
Today, about half of our week's team of 14 people left for home. We barely knew each other last week, and it was so difficult to see them leave tonight. Once again, the skill and passion of these lawyers, law students and professors was inspirational.
Some of these lawyers meet with a client early in their week here, to prepare for a bond hearing. In doing so, they learn about the women's stories, spend time with their children and many hours on the phone with family members, in an effort to gather necessary documents and assure that the bond will be paid, when set. Sometime mid-week, they go to court together and present the case to a judge in Denver. Once in a while, and this happened today, they know of their clients' releases before they leave Artesia. This week, it was especially nice that the law students' client "bonded out" while they were still here. A bittersweet separation. (Many attorneys decide to continue their pro bono representation of their clients, even after returning home.)
This morning, I learned of a tragic sort of separation that is happening here. One of our clients scheduled for today was crossed out, with "El Paso" written in the margin. When I asked about this, I learned that when a child "ages out" or turns 17, I believe, the mother and child are separated and sent to different detention centers, as they are no longer eligible for family detention together. I know many of you can clearly imagine the pain of mother and child being separated from one another, after a long a arduous trip together. I could not have tolerated a separation of this sort from my son when he was that age; not knowing the conditions of his environment, how his case would be handled, etc.
This must end.
Some of these lawyers meet with a client early in their week here, to prepare for a bond hearing. In doing so, they learn about the women's stories, spend time with their children and many hours on the phone with family members, in an effort to gather necessary documents and assure that the bond will be paid, when set. Sometime mid-week, they go to court together and present the case to a judge in Denver. Once in a while, and this happened today, they know of their clients' releases before they leave Artesia. This week, it was especially nice that the law students' client "bonded out" while they were still here. A bittersweet separation. (Many attorneys decide to continue their pro bono representation of their clients, even after returning home.)
This morning, I learned of a tragic sort of separation that is happening here. One of our clients scheduled for today was crossed out, with "El Paso" written in the margin. When I asked about this, I learned that when a child "ages out" or turns 17, I believe, the mother and child are separated and sent to different detention centers, as they are no longer eligible for family detention together. I know many of you can clearly imagine the pain of mother and child being separated from one another, after a long a arduous trip together. I could not have tolerated a separation of this sort from my son when he was that age; not knowing the conditions of his environment, how his case would be handled, etc.
This must end.
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
Day Eleven: From whence cometh my help...
I'm not one to quote scripture, but my mom used to quote that verse. As I recall, it was a reference to the help that comes from God. Today, it popped into my head (which, admittedly, is in an altered state from sleep deprivation) with a twist.
A big, burly ICE officer came rushing into our hut today, pleading with me to make time to see a woman not on our very packed schedule for the day. He explained that her OWN country's consulate had just informed her that it would cost her $15,000 in legal fees to fight for asylum, so she might as well come home, and that they had a seat on a plane for her on Friday. Could we please assure her that we would help her?
Of course, we met with her. The officer brought her in; she was sobbing, and her 8 year old daughter was trying to hold things together. I held her for a while, trying to smile over her shoulder at her little girl who was so confused, but smiling at me My wonderful Spanish-speaking colleagues assured her that the AILA project would represent her for free at least during the early parts of defending herself from removal. We will see her again this week to get her case going.
My mother's quote came to me, as I thought of this lovely mother, trying to do the best she can do for her daughter, having gone through hell to get this far, and then being told by OUR country that she cannot stay, and being told by her own dangerous country that she cannot afford to stay and should give up and return home. From whence cometh HER help?
I hope that today was the beginning of a warm, helpful embrace by this country, despite the obstacles she will surely encounter.
A big, burly ICE officer came rushing into our hut today, pleading with me to make time to see a woman not on our very packed schedule for the day. He explained that her OWN country's consulate had just informed her that it would cost her $15,000 in legal fees to fight for asylum, so she might as well come home, and that they had a seat on a plane for her on Friday. Could we please assure her that we would help her?
Of course, we met with her. The officer brought her in; she was sobbing, and her 8 year old daughter was trying to hold things together. I held her for a while, trying to smile over her shoulder at her little girl who was so confused, but smiling at me My wonderful Spanish-speaking colleagues assured her that the AILA project would represent her for free at least during the early parts of defending herself from removal. We will see her again this week to get her case going.
My mother's quote came to me, as I thought of this lovely mother, trying to do the best she can do for her daughter, having gone through hell to get this far, and then being told by OUR country that she cannot stay, and being told by her own dangerous country that she cannot afford to stay and should give up and return home. From whence cometh HER help?
I hope that today was the beginning of a warm, helpful embrace by this country, despite the obstacles she will surely encounter.
Day Ten
Day ten.
At this point, I thought I would be about half way through this experience, but one of the people who orients the new crews needs to be away for what would have been the weekend after I left, so I've signed on for another few days. I know already that I will need the two day drive home to decompress.
Highlights of the day: a fourth win (4/4) of an asylum case. They have all been domestic violence cases; we are gearing up for the first gang-related case. AND, our team rode the van from our hut to our cars with a woman and her child who were free! They were leaving to catch a bus for a long trip to the Midwest. Joyful moments.
It is 1:30 and I have an early start tomorrow, so I am going to borrow from one of my teammates and mentors from last week - Rebecca. (If any of you from last week read this, I MISS YOU!) Amazing how close you can become with someone just from working hard together.
Many of you have asked what you can do. Rebecca summed it up nicely. Read on.
So many generous people have offered to help the women and children in Artesia. Unfortunately, ICE will not permit us to provide any clothing, goods, money, etc. to detainees currently inside the facility. However, here are a few other ways you can help:
PRE-PAID $20 VISA GIFT CARDS FOR BUS TRIP: A few families are now being released on bond, and we are allowed to give them things as they exit the facility and make their way toward their final destination (usually via Greyhound). We try to provide each family with a $20 pre-paid visa gift card so they can buy water/snacks and make phone calls during the journey. Please mail the gift cards to: AILA Pro Bono Project, ATTN: Christina Brown, P.O. Box 1422, Artesia, NM 88211.
SPEAK UP: Using the tool provided by the National Immigrant Justice Center at the below link, call or send a message to your representatives in Congress telling them to stop jailing refugee mothers and children: http://org2.salsalabs.com/o/5967/p/dia/action3/common/public/?action_KEY=18603
ATTORNEY TRAVEL EXPENSES: The vast majority of attorney volunteers have come without any financial assistance--paying for their own travel expenses AND facing loss of revenue for not doing any of their own client work while they’re away. A fund has been set up through the American Immigration Council to reimburse their travel expenses: https://wfc2.wiredforchange.com/o/8531/p/salsa/donation/common/public/?donate_page_KEY=8356
OFFICE SUPPLIES: We need the following supplies to be purchased and shipped directly to the volunteer attorney office in Artesia: filing cabinets, case file folders, two-hole punches, and copy paper. If you can help with these items, contact me directly, and I can put you into contact with the office manager as to what the needs are on a weekly basis.
ATTORNEY VOLUNTEERS: There is a desperate need to have Spanish-speaking attorneys on the ground in Artesia every week. You would need to commit to arriving on Sunday evening for an orientation and then staying for at least 5 days. Contact your AILA Chapter Chair in your area to sign up, and to see if there are local funds to reimburse you for your travel expenses. More information is also available at: https://wfc2.wiredforchange.com/o/8531/p/salsa/donation/common/public/?donate_page_KEY=8356 (Kris adds - ANY volunteers, lawyers or people willing to help copy documents; Spanish speaking non-lawyers who might translate for a non-Spanish speaking lawyer. There is work here for almost anyone.)
FUTURE CARE PACKAGES: A non-profit here in NM is preparing to announce a project for donations of clothing, shoes, socks, diapers, wipes, water bottles, wrapped snacks, and coloring books/crayons to be made into care packages for the bus ride after the families get released. As soon as I have information about that project I will share it
At this point, I thought I would be about half way through this experience, but one of the people who orients the new crews needs to be away for what would have been the weekend after I left, so I've signed on for another few days. I know already that I will need the two day drive home to decompress.
Highlights of the day: a fourth win (4/4) of an asylum case. They have all been domestic violence cases; we are gearing up for the first gang-related case. AND, our team rode the van from our hut to our cars with a woman and her child who were free! They were leaving to catch a bus for a long trip to the Midwest. Joyful moments.
It is 1:30 and I have an early start tomorrow, so I am going to borrow from one of my teammates and mentors from last week - Rebecca. (If any of you from last week read this, I MISS YOU!) Amazing how close you can become with someone just from working hard together.
Many of you have asked what you can do. Rebecca summed it up nicely. Read on.
So many generous people have offered to help the women and children in Artesia. Unfortunately, ICE will not permit us to provide any clothing, goods, money, etc. to detainees currently inside the facility. However, here are a few other ways you can help:
PRE-PAID $20 VISA GIFT CARDS FOR BUS TRIP: A few families are now being released on bond, and we are allowed to give them things as they exit the facility and make their way toward their final destination (usually via Greyhound). We try to provide each family with a $20 pre-paid visa gift card so they can buy water/snacks and make phone calls during the journey. Please mail the gift cards to: AILA Pro Bono Project, ATTN: Christina Brown, P.O. Box 1422, Artesia, NM 88211.
SPEAK UP: Using the tool provided by the National Immigrant Justice Center at the below link, call or send a message to your representatives in Congress telling them to stop jailing refugee mothers and children: http://org2.salsalabs.com/o/5967/p/dia/action3/common/public/?action_KEY=18603
ATTORNEY TRAVEL EXPENSES: The vast majority of attorney volunteers have come without any financial assistance--paying for their own travel expenses AND facing loss of revenue for not doing any of their own client work while they’re away. A fund has been set up through the American Immigration Council to reimburse their travel expenses: https://wfc2.wiredforchange.com/o/8531/p/salsa/donation/common/public/?donate_page_KEY=8356
OFFICE SUPPLIES: We need the following supplies to be purchased and shipped directly to the volunteer attorney office in Artesia: filing cabinets, case file folders, two-hole punches, and copy paper. If you can help with these items, contact me directly, and I can put you into contact with the office manager as to what the needs are on a weekly basis.
ATTORNEY VOLUNTEERS: There is a desperate need to have Spanish-speaking attorneys on the ground in Artesia every week. You would need to commit to arriving on Sunday evening for an orientation and then staying for at least 5 days. Contact your AILA Chapter Chair in your area to sign up, and to see if there are local funds to reimburse you for your travel expenses. More information is also available at: https://wfc2.wiredforchange.com/o/8531/p/salsa/donation/common/public/?donate_page_KEY=8356 (Kris adds - ANY volunteers, lawyers or people willing to help copy documents; Spanish speaking non-lawyers who might translate for a non-Spanish speaking lawyer. There is work here for almost anyone.)
FUTURE CARE PACKAGES: A non-profit here in NM is preparing to announce a project for donations of clothing, shoes, socks, diapers, wipes, water bottles, wrapped snacks, and coloring books/crayons to be made into care packages for the bus ride after the families get released. As soon as I have information about that project I will share it
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Day nine: the men.
It is 2:00 am. I must try writing earlier in the day.
The officers, as they like to be called (they correct us when we call them guards) are an interesting group. I know there are female officers, but I imagine they are assigned to the dorms, as we never see them.
With very few exceptions, these men have been professional, pleasant and quite often kind to the women and children. The man who runs our operation has his hands full. The women who are scheduled to see us that morning or afternoon are all on hand in a nearby hut, called a library. Not a library. Our officer calls ahead on a radio to have a group of women and their children (they are never, never apart from their children) escorted to our hut. As the day progresses, he has to make that call many times, for a number of people who will have room to wait in the crowded facility.
He also tries to keep the children entertained. There is always a movie showing, in Spanish, but oddly enough, few of the children watch. They may have one page torn out of a coloring book and a crayon, sometimes two. The ones who win favor sweetly ask for another as they leave, and get one. Most of the children happily interact with the officers and get English lessons and the chance to teach a little Spanish in return.
I mentioned to our officer the other day that the children were lucky, with so few males in their lives right now, that he and a few of the others I had seen interacting with the children are such good role models. He seemed touched. We read of sexual harassment and abuse at other facilities, and it is no surprise, with men in all of the power positions, surrounded by vulnerable women who have been victimized in their recent pasts. I watch for signs of that here and have seen only a few; nothing concrete..
It is 2:00 am. I must try writing earlier in the day.
The officers, as they like to be called (they correct us when we call them guards) are an interesting group. I know there are female officers, but I imagine they are assigned to the dorms, as we never see them.
With very few exceptions, these men have been professional, pleasant and quite often kind to the women and children. The man who runs our operation has his hands full. The women who are scheduled to see us that morning or afternoon are all on hand in a nearby hut, called a library. Not a library. Our officer calls ahead on a radio to have a group of women and their children (they are never, never apart from their children) escorted to our hut. As the day progresses, he has to make that call many times, for a number of people who will have room to wait in the crowded facility.
He also tries to keep the children entertained. There is always a movie showing, in Spanish, but oddly enough, few of the children watch. They may have one page torn out of a coloring book and a crayon, sometimes two. The ones who win favor sweetly ask for another as they leave, and get one. Most of the children happily interact with the officers and get English lessons and the chance to teach a little Spanish in return.
I mentioned to our officer the other day that the children were lucky, with so few males in their lives right now, that he and a few of the others I had seen interacting with the children are such good role models. He seemed touched. We read of sexual harassment and abuse at other facilities, and it is no surprise, with men in all of the power positions, surrounded by vulnerable women who have been victimized in their recent pasts. I watch for signs of that here and have seen only a few; nothing concrete..
Monday, October 13, 2014
Day eight.
Today, this week's volunteers arrived. Their orientation made me realize that my own seems like months ago, not a week ago. I've learned so much, cried so much and slept so little! They have no idea what they are in for and, honestly, neither do I. Every day is different and I expect this week to be full of new experiences.
The people in charge here are challenged to keep the work manageable. It is barely that, now, and so many more things must be done to help the women and children.
The detained families need so many changes to their surroundings - a better school, better nutrition, some recreation, etc. This legal association may not be in the best position to make those things happen alone, but it is working with other groups to do so. Nearly every day, we have guests visit to interview the women, get the attorneys' impressions and form their own. Tomorrow, a senator is coming.
After their release, someone has to walk beside them for the first hours after release; get them a good night's sleep before a long journey, assure they have what they need for those days and orient them to their new surroundings. They must know their legal obligations and rights before they launch themselves into a world where they can't see an attorney at no charge by sending a papelita to the attorney's hut. I so hope they will all find ethical, good attorneys who will handle their cases for little or nothing.
Today, this week's volunteers arrived. Their orientation made me realize that my own seems like months ago, not a week ago. I've learned so much, cried so much and slept so little! They have no idea what they are in for and, honestly, neither do I. Every day is different and I expect this week to be full of new experiences.
The people in charge here are challenged to keep the work manageable. It is barely that, now, and so many more things must be done to help the women and children.
The detained families need so many changes to their surroundings - a better school, better nutrition, some recreation, etc. This legal association may not be in the best position to make those things happen alone, but it is working with other groups to do so. Nearly every day, we have guests visit to interview the women, get the attorneys' impressions and form their own. Tomorrow, a senator is coming.
After their release, someone has to walk beside them for the first hours after release; get them a good night's sleep before a long journey, assure they have what they need for those days and orient them to their new surroundings. They must know their legal obligations and rights before they launch themselves into a world where they can't see an attorney at no charge by sending a papelita to the attorney's hut. I so hope they will all find ethical, good attorneys who will handle their cases for little or nothing.
Sunday, October 12, 2014
Day Seven: Today, I am in the town of Artesia, holding down the fort at the AILA Defense Team's office. This allows the only two people who are employed to do this work to have a couple days away for the first time in NINE WEEKS!
A bit about the operation here - yes, only two employees; one lawyer and one paralegal. The lawyer came to volunteer and couldn't leave. It was a few days before I understood that what AILA (American Immigration Lawyers Association) set up is an instant law firm, run out of a two-room office in town, with daily excursions to a metal, temporary building at FLETC (Federal Law Enforcement Training Center or "fleetsie" to us). They represent nearly all of the appr. 600 women and children there, so this is a large practice to have built over a few months.
These are very complicated cases, and needless to say, the stakes are high. AILA has established a network of people all over the country who do some of the work that can be done from afar; researching, writing, even physically delivering documents to the courts nearly every day. The team here OTG (on the ground - again, lots of jargon here!) ranges from 8-15, depending upon the week and the day of the week, with people coming and going daily, though most attorneys work here from Sunday night's orientation until Thursday or Friday. (I am the only person here this weekend.)
I am so impressed with the attorneys who can arrive on Sunday and step right into court in proceedings of a sort they've never done, at 8:00 Monday morning. I did not do that! The skill and passion is beyond words. Unlike me, almost all of them gave up a week's income to be here. How many people would do that?
The days (and but for this weekend, I mean seven days a week) begin at 6:45 at FLETC. We represent the families in court in one hut, as I've come to call them, and meet with others in another hut. There, about 6 meetings are happening at any given time, an arm's length apart. We have a 4' wide "alley" along one wall with a long narrow table against the wall, set apart by room dividers. When behind that wall, we may use our phones and eat and drink, but nowhere else. Our scanner and printer are in constant use, each person for herself. Other than a quick trip around the corner to go to the bathroom, we must be escorted around the facility. However, the only places we go are to "court" or to the Asylum Officer's hut. One day I followed an officer into another building where he was looking for a women we needed to find for a proceeding and the officer in charge of that building really let me have it!
We finish our time at FLETC around 5:00, sometimes as late as 7:00, grab something to eat and go to our daily Big Table Meeting, the only time we are all together to talk about the day's issues. When the meeting ends, typically around 10:00, each attorney has several motions to prepare before calling it a day, resulting in another hour or two or three.
I am thrilled that our two fearless leaders have the opportunity to have a much deserved break. Can you even imagine living that life for nine weeks straight?
A bit about the operation here - yes, only two employees; one lawyer and one paralegal. The lawyer came to volunteer and couldn't leave. It was a few days before I understood that what AILA (American Immigration Lawyers Association) set up is an instant law firm, run out of a two-room office in town, with daily excursions to a metal, temporary building at FLETC (Federal Law Enforcement Training Center or "fleetsie" to us). They represent nearly all of the appr. 600 women and children there, so this is a large practice to have built over a few months.
These are very complicated cases, and needless to say, the stakes are high. AILA has established a network of people all over the country who do some of the work that can be done from afar; researching, writing, even physically delivering documents to the courts nearly every day. The team here OTG (on the ground - again, lots of jargon here!) ranges from 8-15, depending upon the week and the day of the week, with people coming and going daily, though most attorneys work here from Sunday night's orientation until Thursday or Friday. (I am the only person here this weekend.)
I am so impressed with the attorneys who can arrive on Sunday and step right into court in proceedings of a sort they've never done, at 8:00 Monday morning. I did not do that! The skill and passion is beyond words. Unlike me, almost all of them gave up a week's income to be here. How many people would do that?
The days (and but for this weekend, I mean seven days a week) begin at 6:45 at FLETC. We represent the families in court in one hut, as I've come to call them, and meet with others in another hut. There, about 6 meetings are happening at any given time, an arm's length apart. We have a 4' wide "alley" along one wall with a long narrow table against the wall, set apart by room dividers. When behind that wall, we may use our phones and eat and drink, but nowhere else. Our scanner and printer are in constant use, each person for herself. Other than a quick trip around the corner to go to the bathroom, we must be escorted around the facility. However, the only places we go are to "court" or to the Asylum Officer's hut. One day I followed an officer into another building where he was looking for a women we needed to find for a proceeding and the officer in charge of that building really let me have it!
We finish our time at FLETC around 5:00, sometimes as late as 7:00, grab something to eat and go to our daily Big Table Meeting, the only time we are all together to talk about the day's issues. When the meeting ends, typically around 10:00, each attorney has several motions to prepare before calling it a day, resulting in another hour or two or three.
I am thrilled that our two fearless leaders have the opportunity to have a much deserved break. Can you even imagine living that life for nine weeks straight?
Friday, October 10, 2014
Day six; what a week. Again today, there were moments of joy and sorrow.
Perhaps the hardest moment I've had all week was today, sitting with a women who had received a negative decision in her case. She can appeal, but this is going to make it harder for her to progress to a successful asylum case. Before that decision, she had decided to let her darling three year old daughter live with her brother here in the states. I didn't look into the reason, but this child is at liberty to leave. Now the mother has to decide whether to let her baby girl have a better life outside of detention, with the distinct possibility that she, the mother, may be deported. Then, would she take her daughter from this new life, back to the life they were fleeing? Her sobs in my arms, with her sleeping baby in hers, will re-surface in the days to come, I am sure, while she ponders this awful dilemma.
A little spitfire came to visit us today! She is 11 and brilliant. You may have seen the letter she wrote to President Obama that danced around the internet a month or so ago. She made many great points, not the least of which was that the children must have a school. Well, they do, now, but for only an hour a day. This little girl wants to keep up with her French and English! Meeting her on the heels of the Nobel Peace Prize award this week put me in awe of the strength of the women of the future.
http://www.motherjones.com/politics/2014/08/read-letter-11-year-old-migrant-detention-wrote-president-obama
Perhaps the hardest moment I've had all week was today, sitting with a women who had received a negative decision in her case. She can appeal, but this is going to make it harder for her to progress to a successful asylum case. Before that decision, she had decided to let her darling three year old daughter live with her brother here in the states. I didn't look into the reason, but this child is at liberty to leave. Now the mother has to decide whether to let her baby girl have a better life outside of detention, with the distinct possibility that she, the mother, may be deported. Then, would she take her daughter from this new life, back to the life they were fleeing? Her sobs in my arms, with her sleeping baby in hers, will re-surface in the days to come, I am sure, while she ponders this awful dilemma.
A little spitfire came to visit us today! She is 11 and brilliant. You may have seen the letter she wrote to President Obama that danced around the internet a month or so ago. She made many great points, not the least of which was that the children must have a school. Well, they do, now, but for only an hour a day. This little girl wants to keep up with her French and English! Meeting her on the heels of the Nobel Peace Prize award this week put me in awe of the strength of the women of the future.
http://www.motherjones.com/politics/2014/08/read-letter-11-year-old-migrant-detention-wrote-president-obama
Thursday, October 9, 2014
Day Five
I don't even know what day it is.
I am so proud that this team has succeeded in significantly lowering the bonds women must pay to ensure they will appear at an asylum hearing, once released. Today, one of our lawyers succeeded in getting a bond of just $1,500 when the bonds a few weeks ago were up to $30,000. Our lawyer's success was due, in part, to the system's failure. The daughter, only 7, has refused to eat for the two months they have been here. Yesterday, the mother resorted to requesting a baby bottle of milk to provide some nourishment and liquids to her starving daughter. Everyone in the courtroom was crying, as the girl sat with her head on the table.
On a much lighter note, the highlight of my day was trying to keep a three-year-old brilliant little boy occupied with no toys, nothing to do, while his mother spoke to her attorney on the phone. In my poor Spanish, I must have used a feminine adjective about him, as his looked at me sharply and growled in his deepest little voice, "NO, yo soy un NIÑO!" His delight at having my attention for an hour was something I'll never forget.
I am so proud that this team has succeeded in significantly lowering the bonds women must pay to ensure they will appear at an asylum hearing, once released. Today, one of our lawyers succeeded in getting a bond of just $1,500 when the bonds a few weeks ago were up to $30,000. Our lawyer's success was due, in part, to the system's failure. The daughter, only 7, has refused to eat for the two months they have been here. Yesterday, the mother resorted to requesting a baby bottle of milk to provide some nourishment and liquids to her starving daughter. Everyone in the courtroom was crying, as the girl sat with her head on the table.
On a much lighter note, the highlight of my day was trying to keep a three-year-old brilliant little boy occupied with no toys, nothing to do, while his mother spoke to her attorney on the phone. In my poor Spanish, I must have used a feminine adjective about him, as his looked at me sharply and growled in his deepest little voice, "NO, yo soy un NIÑO!" His delight at having my attention for an hour was something I'll never forget.
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
Day Four: The eclipse...
The eclipse.... We saw it on our way to the facility this morning - we arrive at 6:45 am for meetings beginning at 7:00. I found myself wondering if the women knew about it - whether they get any news from the outside world. Are there radios? TVs? (The two I've seen are either playing children's movies to distract kids while their mothers pour out their hearts, or projecting a tiny image of a judge in Denver who is determining the futures of these families.
Today, I met a woman who was captured before crossing the border and forced into being a sex slave for three months. Twice she crossed, and was told she did not have a credible fear of returning, so was sent out of this country. On the third time, she encountered an interviewer who believed her.
I had a lovely moment with a women and her two teenagers today. I accompanied them while the Asylum Officer delivered his good news - that they had crossed the first threshold, so would not be immediately deported. This woman had never met me, but she threw her arms around me after the officer finished reading the determination and we cried together. I'll never forget the thirty seconds or so when I had understood the officer's pronouncement in English, watching her face while she listened to the telephonic translation. Her daughter was equally excited. Her son (maybe 12), showed no expression. What has he suffered in his short life? What are his fears about staying? about going back?
I met another mother with two sons; the older is about 16, and will be the applicant for asylum, rather than his mother. He speaks fluent English and has quite a history of resisting gang recruitment. The courage in his face and his demeanor!
Thank you for your interest. Please let people know that this is happening.
Today, I met a woman who was captured before crossing the border and forced into being a sex slave for three months. Twice she crossed, and was told she did not have a credible fear of returning, so was sent out of this country. On the third time, she encountered an interviewer who believed her.
I had a lovely moment with a women and her two teenagers today. I accompanied them while the Asylum Officer delivered his good news - that they had crossed the first threshold, so would not be immediately deported. This woman had never met me, but she threw her arms around me after the officer finished reading the determination and we cried together. I'll never forget the thirty seconds or so when I had understood the officer's pronouncement in English, watching her face while she listened to the telephonic translation. Her daughter was equally excited. Her son (maybe 12), showed no expression. What has he suffered in his short life? What are his fears about staying? about going back?
I met another mother with two sons; the older is about 16, and will be the applicant for asylum, rather than his mother. He speaks fluent English and has quite a history of resisting gang recruitment. The courage in his face and his demeanor!
Thank you for your interest. Please let people know that this is happening.
Day 3
Day 3: Today was a 16 hour day, and I have 4.5 hours before I have to get up to start tomorrow, so this will be brief! I don't mean to complain - I am so lucky to be able to hack away at a SMALL bit of the work being done here.
Best part of the day: 22 of our people were "bonded out" today! They are on their way to family and friends. Some have a cross-country bus ride with small children in tow, but they are all smiles. More later about where you can send VISA cash cards to help them eat on the trip.
Most surprising part of the day: working the client document email list. Family and friends at home are emailing documents to help in their loved one's cases. I had not thought about how far-reaching this effort is: 100's if not 1000's of people getting birth certificates, diplomas, writing affidavits, etc. to help, and mailing them from internet cafes.
Saddest part of the day: seeing that many, many women are breast-feeding their children beyond the time they would otherwise stop, so the children will have better nourishment but, due to dehydration or stress, they don't have much milk, and the children are suffering. The women attorneys here decided to urge La Leche League to get involved. On a related note, one 14-year old girl has lost 20 pounds here. The medical records for the children are inches thick. They are listless much of the time.
Best part of the day: 22 of our people were "bonded out" today! They are on their way to family and friends. Some have a cross-country bus ride with small children in tow, but they are all smiles. More later about where you can send VISA cash cards to help them eat on the trip.
Most surprising part of the day: working the client document email list. Family and friends at home are emailing documents to help in their loved one's cases. I had not thought about how far-reaching this effort is: 100's if not 1000's of people getting birth certificates, diplomas, writing affidavits, etc. to help, and mailing them from internet cafes.
Saddest part of the day: seeing that many, many women are breast-feeding their children beyond the time they would otherwise stop, so the children will have better nourishment but, due to dehydration or stress, they don't have much milk, and the children are suffering. The women attorneys here decided to urge La Leche League to get involved. On a related note, one 14-year old girl has lost 20 pounds here. The medical records for the children are inches thick. They are listless much of the time.
Monday, October 6, 2014
Day two
My day ended earlier than those appearing in court tomorrow; I was back in my room by 10, after leaving it at 6:30 am! These are going to be short posts, I predict, as the work is tiring and the days are long. But there is so much to report.
A little about the detention center, upon first impression. It is a small town, hastily modified to house 600 women and children. From the road, it looks like rows of metal, windowless buildings set upon a gravel bed. We have not been allowed to see anything but our own metal building where we sit at tables about 1/2 the size of a card table, an arm's length away from similar table on all sides, asking these strong but tired women about the most difficult parts of their lives, in front of their children, many of whom are able to understand the conversation, all of whom hurt to see their mother cry again.
The officers ("We are not guards; we are officers....") have been pleasant, in my limited exposure to them. The ones who interact with us and keep the women traveling between our "hut" and their "home hut" (none of us can go anywhere unescorted) all speak Spanish. The ones who are in our hut with us all day make a real effort to keep the children occupied with movies (Happy Feet for 8 hours yesterday, I don't even know what today, but constant), and pages torn from coloring books with one or two crayons at a time. Some of the officers actually enjoy the children, chat with them, try to teach them English and the children crave that attention.
However, we hear stories of disrespectful treatment, too. More on that another time.
Today's heartbreak was a little boy, 3 1/2 who slept like a baby in his mother's arms for her two hour appointment. She reported that, since arriving two months ago, he sleeps 9-10 hours per night and five more hours per day. He never runs or plays and has lost considerable weight. She has sought medical attention but has been told there is nothing wrong with him. The attorney working with her has a 4-year-old, and says she fears this little boy may be dying. Tomorrow, our team leaders will raise the issue, with hopes of getting an off-site medical evaluation.
The woman who carved a place into my heart today was my younger sister, Kari's age. She is about 25 years older than most of the women here, and has her teenage twin sons with her. Her calm and wise demeanor was so impressive. She survived a kidnapping by a gang, an attempt to earn a ransom, and upon her escape was told by the police to flee for her own safety. She and her sons made the entire trip on their own. She will very likely get asylum when her case comes up, but in the meantime, she is mothering the youngest two of her five children here, while her husband awaits their release.
I also enjoyed working today with a law student who, at the age of 1, came to the U.S. with his young mother, from El Salvador. His story produced the glow of hope on the faces of the women and children we interviewed together.
Hope.
A little about the detention center, upon first impression. It is a small town, hastily modified to house 600 women and children. From the road, it looks like rows of metal, windowless buildings set upon a gravel bed. We have not been allowed to see anything but our own metal building where we sit at tables about 1/2 the size of a card table, an arm's length away from similar table on all sides, asking these strong but tired women about the most difficult parts of their lives, in front of their children, many of whom are able to understand the conversation, all of whom hurt to see their mother cry again.
The officers ("We are not guards; we are officers....") have been pleasant, in my limited exposure to them. The ones who interact with us and keep the women traveling between our "hut" and their "home hut" (none of us can go anywhere unescorted) all speak Spanish. The ones who are in our hut with us all day make a real effort to keep the children occupied with movies (Happy Feet for 8 hours yesterday, I don't even know what today, but constant), and pages torn from coloring books with one or two crayons at a time. Some of the officers actually enjoy the children, chat with them, try to teach them English and the children crave that attention.
However, we hear stories of disrespectful treatment, too. More on that another time.
Today's heartbreak was a little boy, 3 1/2 who slept like a baby in his mother's arms for her two hour appointment. She reported that, since arriving two months ago, he sleeps 9-10 hours per night and five more hours per day. He never runs or plays and has lost considerable weight. She has sought medical attention but has been told there is nothing wrong with him. The attorney working with her has a 4-year-old, and says she fears this little boy may be dying. Tomorrow, our team leaders will raise the issue, with hopes of getting an off-site medical evaluation.
The woman who carved a place into my heart today was my younger sister, Kari's age. She is about 25 years older than most of the women here, and has her teenage twin sons with her. Her calm and wise demeanor was so impressive. She survived a kidnapping by a gang, an attempt to earn a ransom, and upon her escape was told by the police to flee for her own safety. She and her sons made the entire trip on their own. She will very likely get asylum when her case comes up, but in the meantime, she is mothering the youngest two of her five children here, while her husband awaits their release.
I also enjoyed working today with a law student who, at the age of 1, came to the U.S. with his young mother, from El Salvador. His story produced the glow of hope on the faces of the women and children we interviewed together.
Hope.
Day one
Day one, written with thumbs as I fall asleep. Short day, 9 am to 10 pm. Tomorrow is a 5:45 wake-up for a 6:45 start. Bond hearings for me.
Today: beautiful faces on exhausted women, adorable children. Tears; mine and theirs: Young E. will spend his 10th birthday in this metal and gravel prison tomorrow, but was so thrilled to be turning 10. Mom so proud.
Most of the tears today were tears of relief, but not joy, from a step in the process having gone well.
At the end of the day, two local city council members, almost certainly immigrants themselves, came in to thank the week's team (appr. 14 of us: lawyers, paralegals, accredited representatives and interpreters). People from the team disclosed that these two men had, all on their own, been facilitating the travel for women and their children released on bond, needing to get to various parts of the country to join their families. These two men were raising money, and spending a lot of their own on bus fare, changes of clothing, toys to keep the children occupied, and even phones for mothers traveling for days with infants. True heroes - a great way to end the first day.
Today: beautiful faces on exhausted women, adorable children. Tears; mine and theirs: Young E. will spend his 10th birthday in this metal and gravel prison tomorrow, but was so thrilled to be turning 10. Mom so proud.
Most of the tears today were tears of relief, but not joy, from a step in the process having gone well.
At the end of the day, two local city council members, almost certainly immigrants themselves, came in to thank the week's team (appr. 14 of us: lawyers, paralegals, accredited representatives and interpreters). People from the team disclosed that these two men had, all on their own, been facilitating the travel for women and their children released on bond, needing to get to various parts of the country to join their families. These two men were raising money, and spending a lot of their own on bus fare, changes of clothing, toys to keep the children occupied, and even phones for mothers traveling for days with infants. True heroes - a great way to end the first day.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)