Amnesty bill gives Hub immigrants hope

Matthew MacLean

When the United States Senate passed its immigration reform bill on May 25, it was one of the happiest days of Fabienne’s life.

“It is a blessing from God, for which I’ve been praying continually for five years,” says the 24-year-old Haitian immigrant, who declined to provide her last name because of her illegal status.

One of the most controversial provisions of the bill, supported by Massachusetts senators John Kerry and Edward M. Kennedy, is a blanket amnesty given to all illegal immigrants who have lived in the United States for more than five years, as well as the opportunity to eventually apply for citizenship. Fabienne qualifies by just 11 days.

According to the conservative estimate of the U.S. Census Bureau, there were 87,000 illegal immigrants living in the Bay State in 2000. Applying the generally accepted estimate that 60 percent of the nation’s immigrants are illegal, at least 52,000 immigrants have been here over five years and would thus be eligible for the amnesty. There would likely be many, many more.

With Brazilians accounting for the largest numbers of immigrants in Massachusetts, and Caribbean natives (including Haitians, Dominicans and Jamaicans) making up nearly a third of all immigrants in Boston, the state’s black community now finds itself near the focal point of what could be the most dramatic change in U.S. immigration law in 80 years.

Fabienne’s move to Boston, which hosts the third-largest Haitian community in the country, was not entirely her own choice. Her mother married an American and emigrated six years ago, and was able to legally bring along her three children from a previous marriage that were minors at the time. But Fabienne was over 18, and didn’t qualify for any special status. During a trip to visit her family in 2001, her mother insisted that she stay beyond the limits of her visa, and she has been here ever since.

“In some ways I’m happy to be here, but in other ways I feel trapped,” she says. “I never planned for my life to be like this. And I don’t know what to plan for the future. I don’t know where I will be or what I will be able to do.”

Fabienne has not seen her father in five years. He constantly pleads with her to come back to Haiti, but she knows that if she leaves she may never be able to see the rest of her family again. For now, she figures that it’s better to be with the majority of her family, even though her options for education and work in the United States are extremely limited.

Ali Noorani, executive director of the Massachusetts Immigrant and Refugee Advocacy Coalition (MIRA), says that Fabienne’s situation is not uncommon.

“Family reunification is actually the main driving force behind both immigration and immigration reform,” he says. “It’s a misconception that most immigrants are only here to get rich quick.”

Twenty-seven year old Adilson, who also requested that his surname not be used, is likewise excited about the possibility of gaining legal status — but for different reasons.

Adilson is an aspiring actor, who came to the United States in 2000 from Angola, where the theater and film industry is practically non-existent after decades of civil war.

“I had a good family, good friends, a fairly well-paying job. I could have continued that way all my life,” he says. “But I knew that I would always regret if I didn’t take a chance to follow my dreams. America is the land of opportunity. I had to try.”

Adilson came to Boston because of the area’s large Brazilian and Portuguese-speaking population, whose language and colonial heritage is shared by his native Angola. Here he was able to network to find jobs and other resources. But to pursue his acting goals, he must relocate to either New York or Los Angeles, where he would not have the same support network — essential, he says, for an illegal immigrant like himself.

Getting acting work, or even just taking a class, is very difficult without a green card. Adilson has spent years investigating every avenue he could find to gain legal status. He even considered paying an American citizen to marry him — an option many illegal immigrants resort to, including some of his friends. But he decided against it, largely because he knows his mother would disapprove.

“I have been in a limbo for a long time,” he says. “I feel like I’m wasting time. But I want to do it the right way. There should be a legal way for immigrants to contribute to [American] society, while also achieving their goals.”

If the Senate legislation were to become law, both Fabienne and Adilson would receive amnesty from prosecution and temporary legal status, giving them a chance to apply for a green card by proving they have resided in the U.S. during the last five years. They would also have to pay taxes for any income received over those years, as well as a $2000 fine. Later, if they demonstrate good character and learn a sufficient amount of English, they would have the eventual option of applying for permanent residency or even citizenship.

But the bill must first pass muster in the House of Representatives, and then be approved by the president.

President Bush has already signaled that he supports the legislation, but immigration analysts say the bill will face a tough battle in the House, where Republicans defecting from the Bush administration have vowed to oppose any kind of blanket amnesty.

“The gap is so large between the two versions, I’d say there’s only a 50 percent chance that any kind of compromise bill will make it to the president’s desk,” says Noorani. “The chance that the bill will still have any significant reforms [to aid illegal immigrants] is more like 2 percent.”

Fabienne says she wants citizenship, simply to make it easier for her to travel back and forth between the U.S. and Haiti, in order to be with all of her family. But Adilson plans to eventually return to Angola, perhaps to help rebuild the film industry there. He merely wishes for legal permission to work, even temporarily.

Within the next few weeks, both will watch closely as lawmakers in Washington, D.C decide their destinies.