Categories
News

Civics minded: Local groups help citizenship applicants prepare for tougher test

U.S. immigrants have faced an amazing array of challenges during the last four years, but as of December 1, 2020, the outgoing administration left them one last present: a significantly more difficult citizenship exam. The exam, something immigrants must pass in order to become citizens, has an English language and civics portion, and the civics element has recently been expanded and revised in a way that immigration advocates say is unfair.

Harriet Kuhr, executive director of the International Rescue Committee’s Charlottesville/Richmond office, which assists refugees and other immigrants with the citizenship application process, is blunt: U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services “made changes [to the citizenship exam] without input from stakeholders, and without justification for making it harder,” she says.

Applicants now must answer 20 questions instead of 10, and while the passing score is still 60 percent (12 correct out of 20, instead of six out of 10), applicants will have to answer all 20 questions instead of passing as soon as they have given 12 correct answers. The new test also covers much more material. The number of civics study questions has increased from 100 to 128. There are more questions about the government (up from 57 to 72), and more about the Founders and America’s wars. Applicants must now correctly name five (rather than three) of the original 13 states, and all three (rather than one) of the branches of government.

“Many of these new questions require a higher proficiency in English,” says Catherine McCall, citizenship coordinator with Literacy Volunteers of Charlottesville-Albemarle, which offers preparation classes and individual tutoring for those applying for citizenship. Additionally, some of the new questions seem ideologically motivated, say advocates. For example, the correct answer to a question about who members of Congress represent is now “citizens” (rather than “all the people”) of their state or district, a distinction that aligns with the Trump administration’s efforts to exclude non-citizens from the national census.

The revision process itself has been cause for concern, too. The previous exam, which went into effect in October 2008, took six years to review and revise, including extensive input from educators and immigration organizations, test piloting, and public comment. This time, the entire process took 18 months, and outside review and piloting efforts were minimal. Especially problematic: The new exam took effect less than three weeks after the finalized version was released, “leaving very little time for public comment or outreach to potential applicants,” notes Kuhr.

Given the rushed timeline, LVCA, Sin Barreras, and other local nonprofit organizations offering exam preparation for applicants have scrambled to make extensive revisions to their classes—already upended by the pandemic—when offices were closed for months and all interactions had to move online.

In July, LVCA was able to start offering Zoom citizenship classes (one in civics, one on the English-skills portion of the exam). Enrollment has been increasing, according to McCall—the July-August session had 25 students; the November-December session had 43 students, requiring two sections of each class; and for the upcoming cycle starting January 15, she’s already planning on three sections. To make things harder, LVCA now has to offer preparation for both versions of the civics test, since those who applied by December 1 are still taking the old exam. IRC’s Kuhr says her organization, which usually assists on about 125 citizenship applications annually, urged clients to get their applications filed before the changeover.

Complicating matters, the backlog on processing applications was severe even pre-pandemic. Applicants from our area, whose tests are administered by USCIS’ Washington, D.C., office, now face a waiting period of 11.5 to 15 months before taking their exam, according to the agency’s website. Kuhr says under the former administration, the waiting period was more like three to six months. (For context, the Atlanta office’s current wait time is 12 to 32 months.)

Last year USCIS attempted to increase the citizenship application fee from $640 to $1,170 to decrease the availability of income-based fee waivers or reductions, though the changes were challenged in court by immigration advocacy groups and have not yet gone into effect.

Immigrant advocates are hoping these changes will be rolled back by the incoming administration. But in the meantime, those seeking to become U.S. citizens are faced with doing a whole lot more studying.

“I’m on board with revising the citizenship test to better prepare people to become Americans,” says McCall, who is also a high school civics educator. “But this new test is not going to make them more effective citizens.”

Could you pass?

The following are among the new questions on the citizenship exam.

1. What is the purpose of the 10th Amendment?

2. Who appoints federal judges?

3. Name one leader of the women’s rights movement in the 1800s.

Answers:

1. The powers not given to the federal government belong to the states or to the people.

2. The president

3. Examples: Susan B. Anthony, Sojourner Truth, Elizabeth Cady Stanton

Categories
News

‘Back to the shadows:’ Community responds to DACA repeal

“What do we want?” shouts UVA fourth-year Jacqueline Cortes in a red rain coat to a crowd of nearly 300 students and faculty members. “JUSTICE,” they echo. “When do we want it?” “NOW!”

“If we don’t get it…” she says, and they answer, “We shut it down!”

Cortes, a biology major and Spanish language minor, is a founder of DREAMers on Grounds, the university group that organized the occupation on the Garrett Hall steps September 6, a day after President Trump announced plans to rescind a program called Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals.

DACA is an Obama administration immigration policy established in 2012 to allow certain undocumented immigrants who entered the U.S. as minors, such as Cortes, to be eligible for a work permit and deferred action from deportation.

The Alexandria resident came to America from Mexico when she was 9 years old.

“I didn’t know what borders meant,” Cortes says. “I didn’t know the law. But I’m not throwing my parents under the bus anymore. …They brought me here, and my sibling, when he was 3, because they wanted the best for us.”

After Congress failed to pass the DREAM Act (a process to grant undocumented immigrant minors citizenship) in 2010, she says the 2012 passing of DACA “wasn’t the answer—just a little, tiny Band-Aid to the huge problem.”

But even that has been taken away from her and the approximately 12,000 young people with DACA status in the state, according to Virginia Organizing.

“Now we have to go back to the shadows,” Cortes says. “Now we have to be scared again.”

The fourth-year student calls for permanent protection for all DREAMers and their families. Locally, Charlottesville-based nonprofit Sin Barreras is assisting those with DACA status.

Sin Barreras connects the local immigrant community to health, immigration, education and banking services. It also provides low-cost legal counseling and direct help to DACA children.

“Sometimes [undocumented people] are not as sensitive to what’s happening because they’ve struggled forever. They’ve had hard lives and these things happen,” says Edgar Lara, the nonprofit’s community engagement coordinator. “But something like this, it’s really hard. …They’re scared.”

He says locals with DACA status should connect with attorneys or accredited representatives immediately, and Sin Barreras can help them do that.

DACA holders are a real strength for the undocumented community because they’re Americanized, Lara adds.

“They have a voice,” he says. “And when they’re able to express themselves, it’s such a great thing. Too often, the undocumented community doesn’t have that voice because they don’t speak the language.”

Sin Barreras is putting on the September 16 Cville Sabroso Festival at Ix Art Park, which is Charlottesville’s annual Latin American music, dance, art and food celebration.

“It’s a difficult time, but coming together isn’t just about the struggle,” Lara says. “We need to come together and also celebrate so people see another side to this community.”

Categories
News

Although Charlottesville is a Welcoming City, undocumented immigrants still live in fear

The first time Maria’s husband was ticketed for driving without a license was after being stopped because of a broken taillight. The second instance occurred after he hit a deer. 

Both Maria and her husband are undocumented immigrants living in Charlottesville. They settled here after fleeing their native El Salvador due to a civil war and the accompanying wave of gang violence that threatened their family’s lives.

In Charlottesville and Albemarle County, undocumented immigrants most often run into trouble with local governments over their lack of driver’s licenses. Absent a birth certificate, even the most competent driver cannot obtain a driver’s license in Virginia. This turns any minor traffic infraction into a potentially life-ruining event.

“I am always very scared, I live in fear every day,” says Maria. “Every day we leave the house, we don’t know what could happen.”

We all know Donald Trump will be sworn in as the 45th president of the United States January 20. But since he was elected as president in an Electoral College win over Hillary Clinton’s popular vote victory, communities across America have been divided by how best to protect their immigrant populations. During his campaign, Trump promised to round up undocumented immigrants and block Muslims from entering the country in a manner that Eva Schloss, stepsister of Anne Frank, compared in Newsweek to Adolf Hitler’s purge of Jews from Germany.

One often-discussed option is the idea of becoming a sanctuary city. Sanctuary cities officially declare their refusal to gather information about the immigration status of people through traffic stops and other routine interactions between civilians and city employees. But Trump has pledged to cut off all federal funding to communities that become sanctuary cities. What would this mean for Charlottesville?

According to Charlottesville City Treasurer Jason Vandever, in fiscal year 2015 the city received $24,083,689 from the federal government, “both directly and passed through state agencies.” Roughly $10,532,325 was provided by the Department of Transportation alone. The Department of Agriculture contributed $2,712,498 for food assistance, including the school lunch program. And millions more are provided by the Department of Education, including $100,000 for adult English literacy and civics education intended to prepare immigrants for naturalization.

No president of the United States has the sole authority to suspend allocation of money previously budgeted by Congress to municipalities, including Charlottesville. But Trump has nevertheless insisted he will do this. With his party in control of majorities in the House and Senate and an anticipated majority on the Supreme Court, it isn’t clear that any legal violations by the administration would be met with consequences.

Maria taught math and physics in El Salvador, but her certification as a teacher, and as a competent driver, is not recognized in America. Here, she cleans houses. And she takes the bus everywhere because she is afraid of what might eventually happen if she drives a car.

If her husband is stopped a third time and charged for driving without a license, he will be taken to jail, and his immigration status could automatically be shared with federal authorities. That can result in being deported.

The means of deportation after arrest for driving without a license would typically be an Immigrations and Customs Enforcement detainer. When a prisoner is about to be released from jail (after bail has been paid or the charges have been dismissed), federal immigration authorities are notified that an undocumented immigrant is being held in jail and will be out on a particular date.

Representatives of the Charlottesville and Albemarle County police departments have expressed in community workshops with Sin Barreras, a local nonprofit that provides services to undocumented immigrants in the Charlottesville community, that they do not want their officers to inquire as to the immigration status of people they come in contact with. But in practice, this unofficial policy has not always been followed.

“We know from the Hispanic community…there are officers who do not follow those informal policies and do ask immigration [questions] even though perhaps they shouldn’t,” says Frank Sullivan, a Sin Barreras board member. “We think it’s important, and we would encourage the city of Charlottesville, city managers and Board of Supervisors of Albemarle County that this will be a welcoming city, such as Santa Fe, New York, Chicago and Washington, D.C., where police have a policy not to ask immigration questions.”

Some of these cities, including Santa Fe and New York, have been unabashed about declaring themselves sanctuary cities. But these are cities in states that do not have Virginia’s Dillon Rule, a set of legal precedents that prevents Virginia municipalities from passing laws other than those from a set of options presented by the commonwealth’s government. New York City can levy an income tax, or nearly any other source of revenue it wishes, to compensate for lost federal or state income. Charlottesville cannot.

Undocumented issues

Sin Barreras was created five years ago and operated until 2016 as an all-volunteer organization (it now has one part-time paid staffer). In its tiny office on the second floor of the Jefferson School City Center, its members advise immigrants about legal matters, access to health care and any issues they have while trying to adjust to life in an unfamiliar country with a government they find difficult to understand. It is the only organization in Charlottesville devoted primarily to assisting undocumented immigrants—in 2015 Sin Barreras responded to 1,600 phone calls, including emergency calls late in the evening.

One call was from a Mexican woman who explained through tears that her son was taken from a court appearance directly to jail and she didn’t know where he was. The nonprofit used its contacts with the police to locate him, and assured the mother her son was well and would be home in four days. And the group has helped more than 200 people who were brought to the U.S. as children receive DACA status, a renewable two-year period of deferred action from deportation and eligibility for a work permit, through an Obama administration policy.

But the group’s No. 1 issue is undocumented immigrants’ lack of access to Virginia driver’s licenses. The commonwealth does not issue licenses to undocumented immigrants, even if they can pass a driving test and provide proof of identity through documents such as birth certificates, passports or driver’s licenses from their home countries. The lack of a driver’s license means that a bad bulb in a taillight or a missed turn signal can suddenly turn an ordinary trip to work into a nightmare. Driving without a license is illegal, and multiple offenses will result in a trip to jail, where ICE might intercept and deport them.

“I know that our jail board has taken a position that they won’t hold people on ICE detainers,” says Kristin Szakos, a Charlottesville city councilor. “They don’t have to—after their time is up, they are released.”

This means that the local jail releases immigrants immediately on a judge’s order, rather than holding them until federal authorities come to get them.

The Charlottesville City Council issued a proclamation on October 5, 2015, declaring itself a “welcoming city.” The proclamation establishes no specific policy responsibilities for the city or its employees. Curiously, Charlottesville is not listed as a participant on the website of Welcoming America, a nonprofit that sets standards and guidelines for what are formally considered to be welcoming cities.

Charlottesville’s ‘Welcoming City’ resolution

Advancing equity and inclusion is critical to the success of our community and our nation. Our diversity is the source of our pride and our prosperity.

As political rhetoric on the national level has become heated and divisive, and with an increase in hateful and dangerous speech and acts locally and nationwide, many of our neighbors have experienced fear and anxiety.

At this time we must strongly reaffirm our commitment to diversity and to fostering an atmosphere of inclusion.

We reject hate speech, hate crimes, harassment, racial bias, homophobia, Islamophobia, anti-Semitism, anti immigrant discrimination, and harmful bias and discrimination in all forms.

We welcome all people and recognize the rights of individuals to live their lives with dignity, free of fear and discrimination because of their faith, race, sexual orientation or identity, national origin or immigration status.

We believe the public sector has a critical role in ensuring the public good and pledge to continue our work in making our services and programs accessible and open to all.

Even Welcoming America’s technical standards for a “welcoming city” are a bit hazy. The group calls for tolerance, access to local government services and a general feeling of inclusiveness toward newcomers. A search of its website for the words “ICE detainer” yields zero results. The phrase “driver’s license” only appears once in its digital archives. Welcoming cities generally seek to foster inclusiveness in their community but stop short of formally refusing to cooperate with ICE to provide information about the presence of immigrants. Sanctuary cities go farther than mere inclusiveness.   

“One of the things we have done with our welcoming city declaration is just making sure that people understand that we value immigrants and [we] want to make sure that people feel safe and welcome here, but I don’t know that we have a lot of particular policies around that,” Szakos says.

Future concerns

The consequences of falling afoul of federal authorities for a minor offense are major. Fanny Smedile, a legal immigrant from Central America and president of Sin Barreras, has an adult son who remained undocumented. In tears, she says her son was captured by federal agents and deported to Panama, a country unfamiliar to him since childhood. She has visited him periodically in Panama since his deportation.

Maria says her children—only one of whom has technical citizenship— strive to be good citizens.

“We have a lot of gratitude toward the United States,” she says. “My children give back. They are volunteers. They are bilingual. They speak English and Spanish perfectly. They volunteer at hospitals. They actually volunteer giving out food at the church. I’m very proud of it. They speak for a lot of the Hispanic population that really has a lot of gratitude toward America and what they’ve done for us.

“My youngest child is actually American-born. A U.S. citizen,” says Maria. “However, it would throw things off tremendously if I were to be deported. Who would take care of this child? Would I have to bring him back to a culture of poverty and violence? If not, would I leave him here to be a ward of the state? It’s an impossible dilemma by not having legal status.”

She says that as a family they are already feeling the effects. Her 11-year-old hears comments in school about Trump. “Now he worries, ‘What are going to happen to my parents?’” Maria says. “‘Are they going to be deported?’”

“Our former mayor was an immigrant,” says Szakos. “This is a community that has 60 languages being spoken at home. …My daughter is a soccer player and one of her best friends is from Somalia. And it broadens the perspective of our citizens, and I use that ‘citizens’ [as] specifically city citizens instead of legalized citizens. It enriches us and gives us a broader global perspective.”

While Szakos worries about the children of undocumented immigrants, she also worries about other local residents who depend on some of that $24 million in federal funding to Charlottesville for social services that Trump has threatened to cut off.

“There are potential downsides. Technically, [being a sanctuary city is] not legal. And the president-elect has threatened to cut off all federal funding to cities that declare themselves welcoming cities. A lot of cities in the country are sanctuary cities by practice, if not by naming, so it’s going to take some work to figure out exactly what he meant,” she says. “…One of my concerns is that a lot of federal funding that comes into Charlottesville is used to provide programs that support our most vulnerable residents, and I don’t want to endanger that.”

The stakes might be more than just the well-being of vulnerable citizens—law and order is also an issue. A combination of the language barrier and fear of deportation makes many immigrants Smedile serves fearful of contacting the police to report a crime or seek help.

“They are afraid when there is a crime and they are witnesses,” says Smedile. “They don’t like to be involved because they are undocumented. They don’t want anything with the court or anything with the police. Sometimes they don’t say what did they see. In an accident or a fight or whatever it is. …Of course the police, they want to come talk to them and protect them, but it’s not easy.”

All of the immigrants and their advocates interviewed for this article agreed that getting pulled over without a driver’s license is the leading local cause of deportation. But data in government computers could theoretically be used to identify undocumented immigrants. Social services reports often include that information, and health records may also include clues.

Szakos thinks that federal law should prevent the city’s data from being taken by ICE and combed through for the names of immigrants.

“I’m not sure which laws are which, but HIPAA [the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act] is one of the things that has to do with health-related data,” Szakos says. “There are various federal regulations that govern the privacy of data being held by social services agencies. So that individual records can’t be held by other agencies except under certain circumstances. …As far as I know there’s pretty rigid protections on the data.”

Asked what she would like from the city of Charlottesville, Maria had a quick answer through an interpreter.

“To give us a chance,” Maria says. “To have the rights that most people have in this country. We’re honest. We’re looking to work. We came from a culture of violence and poverty. We found refuge here in the United States and so have our children.” She also asked for the possibility of getting a legal work permit and being able to obtain a driver’s license.

To make ends meet, Maria also works a part-time job in a restaurant. On one occasion, a customer said, “What are you doing here? Go back to Mexico. This job belongs to someone American-born.” She wanted to cry. She lives in a neighborhood filled with other Hispanic immigrants. Her neighbors have told her they have experienced discrimination at work sites. American co-workers have said to them, “After the 20th, time’s up! You’re out of here!”

“That’s the time we need to be even more united, when we’re being ostracized,” Maria says. “To prove we don’t retaliate with violence. We go back to our foundation of Christianity and Catholicism and we rest on that and hope to turn people’s hearts by not reacting to the discrimination that we experience.”

The monetary price of resisting Trump’s demands in Charlottesville could be in the tens of millions of dollars. But when asked whether the dollar value is worth the effort, Smedile does not hesitate to answer.

“We are human beings,” she says. “That’s what we have to think about.”