Common Language Project: Multimedia that Matters

Living in Limbo

By Jessica Partnow June 19, 2010

TRANSCRIPT

When we think of deportation, we might picture a one-time event. You get caught, they put you on a plane, and that's it. But a deportation order can take months or even years to process. For the final segment in our "Between Worlds/Behind Bars" series we look at the story of one family living in deportation limbo.

SEHIDI: "Uh, my name's Sehidi, I'm 13 and I go to Mount Baker Middle school."

Sehidi is sitting in the hallway of Saint Matthew's Church in Auburn after Sunday services. She's telling me the story of the time her mom was arrested two summers ago.

SEHIDI:"Well, I was with her so I was crying. It was the day we got kicked out of our house, so yeah, it was really sad. We were trying to, like move everything to the storage place which was like three blocks away but apparently one of the tail lights wasn't working so there was a cop behind us and stopped her for it."

Sehidi was afraid of what would happen if her mom was arrested.

SEHIDI: "She would, they'd like maybe take her to Mexico so I was scared."

Sehidi's mom was arrested and they took her to the Auburn city jail. But when they found out her mom was an illegal immigrant, they sent her to the Northwest Detention Center in Tacoma. She stayed there for six weeks. Eventually her church was able to raise $10,000 for her bond. This was June 2008. The deportation case is still going on. Sehidi's mom could be deported at any time.

Sehidi lives with her mom and three brothers in a small house near downtown Auburn, about 30 miles south of Seattle.

CUBILLOS: "Hola! Como estan?"<"Hello! How are you?">

Gabriela Cubillos is Sehidi's mom. She goes by Gabi. Gabi speaks a little English but she's more comfortable in Spanish. Every Saturday she makes a couple hundred tamales to sell at church the next day.

CUBILLOS: "Se prepara primero el chile, onion. Esta listo para hacer tamales, la masa. Esta lista porque lo hice antes."

First, Gabi stews chicken or pork with onions and chile. She prepares a dough from corn meal and lard. And she tries to keep the kids out of the kitchen.

Gabi is 32. She's got four kids. Her youngest son was born here, so he's a U.S. citizen, but everyone else is undocumented. Before Gabi got arrested, she had a job cleaning office buildings. She worked at night so she could be with her kids during the day. But ever since she got out of the detention center she hasn't been able to find a new job.

So now Gabi is living her whole life in a kind of gray area. Immigration knows she's here illegally, but they're allowing her to stay while she fights her deportation case. The problem is that any work she finds would technically be illegal. So she's stuck in this limbo.

CUBILLOS: "I never thought I would be making tamales. But when I got out of immigration, I didn't have a job, I didn't have anything. Then one day at the church there was a lady selling tamales and they were so bad! They were really salty. So I called up my mom and had her tell me how to make them, and then I started making my own. My mom had always told me I should learn!"

Gabi grew up in a tiny town in Mexico. There were maybe 100 houses. No telephone. No money. She ran away from home to join the army when she was 16 so she could pay for her siblings to go to school. But after a few years she wanted out. She had three small children by then. A sister had moved to Texas and Gabi thought she could give her kids a better life there. So she decided to try for the border. In the late '90s, when Gabi left Mexico, she says you just got on a bus headed for the States and hoped they didn't decide to check IDs that day.

Gabi has a pretty established life here. All of her kids switch between English and Spanish like it's nothing. They fit in at their public schools. Gabi has told the kids she might be deported, but she's also tried to shelter them. Sehidi doesn't even know whether she's a citizen.

SEHIDI: "I don't know! I came here when I was young I guess and I lived here. I like kinda grew up here so I wonder."

Gabi has tried for a bunch of different visas. She'll go into court and say she's putting together an application for, say, the visa for victims of human trafficking, or the one for victims of crimes. Gabi did have to file a restraining order on a couple that was harassing her, so it seemed like she had a good chance.

Each time Gabi takes one of her visa ideas to court she has to scrap together $500 or more for a lawyer. But each court appearance buys her a little more time. So far, though, she just hasn't been able to get the paperwork together to actually submit an application.

Gabi is running out of options. She will probably be deported by the end of the year. She says she's been fighting so hard because she wants her kids to be able to stay.

CUBILLOS: "So the question is one for immigration, I guess. Do you even know who you're kicking out and sending to Mexico? It's the future of this country. I have four futures, for this country. And if I have to go, all four have to leave."

Technically, the kids would be allowed to stay here if Gabi is sent back to Mexico. But they wouldn't have anywhere to go. Right now the family is living in a certain amount of denial. They don't have much of a choice. The kids still have to get up in the morning to go to school, Gabi's still got to make tamales and try to feed everyone.

The threat of deportation has been hanging in the air for so long now that you get the sense that Sehidi is just ready for it all to be over.

SEHIDI: "Well, I want to go to Mexico, so if she has to go, I'll go with her and I'll start a new life there. I think it's better to be raised there than here cause we're not gonna live in the city, we're gonna live in our ranch place where it's just all family. Nothing bad a lot. So yeah."

If Sehidi's mom is sent to Mexico she'll be one of more than 10,000 people deported from the Pacific Northwest and Alaska over the past year. That's a number that's more than doubled since 2005. Gabi's story is just one in a huge and complicated political debate.

IRA MEHLMAN: "I think the best way to look at the way this breaks down is elitist versus sort of the common people."

Ira Mehlman is the Media Director for FAIR, the Federation for American Immigration Reform. He says there are some people whose lives aren't really affected by immigration.

MEHLMAN: "Their jobs really aren't affected, their kids are not going to schools where half the kids in the class don't speak English, so for them it is easy to take sort of that view, well, you know, it's all kind of great because now I can go have my choice of ethnic restaurants."

FAIR's position is that we should tighten up the borders, make it more difficult to employ undocumented workers, and reduce overall levels of legal immigration. Ira says those policies would help protect the standard of living for Americans.

MEHLMAN: "It is the people who are working on the construction sites who have seen their wages stagnate or decline. It's the people whose kids are in school where a lot of the resources have to be devoted simply to getting the kids up to speed in English. It's not the fault of the kids for needing an education, but again we don't recognize the impact that it has on the social institution that is our school system."

Gabi thought of one more way to try and stay in the country. She heard that if you've lived here for 10 years without being caught by immigration, you can apply for permanent residency.

Gabi first came to the U.S. in June of 1998, exactly 10 years before she was arrested in Auburn. So this past December she gathered up her paperwork and headed back to court.

Before the hearing, Gabi and her lawyer huddled in the little consultation room. They poured dimes into the Xerox machine, copying pay stubs and notes from old bosses and friends vouching for Gabi and her 10 years spent in the United States.

In the courtroom, they handed everything over to the judge. Gabi listened through an interpreter as the judge reviewed her application. He noticed that back in the fall of '98, the family had gone to Mexico for a long visit. And that's against the rules. You can't ever leave the country for more than 90 days when you're making this kind of case. The judge denied the application.

CUBILLOS: "I have 30 days to appeal my decision. After that it could take up to a year. We're going to do everything we possibly can. Today we needed more paperwork. This is what we're going to try and do in the next 30 days. Let's hope for something good."

The immigration debate is coming. And the rules about how someone like Gabi can become a U.S. citizen could change completely over the next few months. So all the stalling, the visa applications, the angling for just a little more time – they could pay off in the end. For now, Gabi will stick it out in limbo for a little while longer.

I'm Jessica Partnow for KUOW.