http://www.miami.com/mld/miamiherald/news/13874200.htm

Posted on Wed, Feb. 15, 2006


IMMIGRATION | SOUTH FLORIDA
S. Fla. migrants say they'll stay, legally or not
Several South Florida illegal migrants say they will remain in hiding if they are forced to leave the country to seek temporary work permits -- as some lawmakers want
BY ALFONSO CHARDY
achardy@MiamiHerald.com

Sabrina lives in constant fear.

The 28-year-old fled Haiti in 1992, because, she said, as a young student activist she was being persecuted by the military government that had ousted then-President Jean-Bertrand Aristide the year before. Now, after living half her lifetime in Miami, she faces deportation -- an appeals board last year reversed an immigration judge's ruling to grant her political asylum.

''Every day brings fear and stress,'' she said recently.

Sabrina's younger sister Carla also arrived by boat and faces removal, even though she is married to a U.S. citizen and has a daughter born here.

Both sisters, who would grant interviews only on condition that their full names not be used, hope Congress will give them a way to get green cards so that they can stay and work in the place they now call home -- South Florida. Returning to Haiti, they say, is not a realistic option.

''We won't accept that,'' said Carla, 23, who stays at home with her 2-year-old daughter because her illegal status bars her from getting a work permit or a driver's license.

Far south of Little Haiti, at a street corner in Homestead, 28-year-old Gilberto Martinez stands waiting with dozens of other migrant workers to get picked up by potential employers and taken to work in farm fields around Florida City.

MartĂ*nez says a temporary work permit -- among the options Congress is considering to reform immigration laws -- would suit him just fine. He's eager to return to his native Oaxaca, Mexico, to rejoin his family and set up a business.

MAKING A LIVING

He can't just up and leave, though, if his status isn't settled. For now, he needs to stay in the shadows, making a living.

``I came to the United States to work and save money. I have my whole family over there, my wife and three children, and I plan to go back.''

MartĂ*nez is the exception among several undocumented migrants interviewed. Everyone else longs for a green card.

''What I pray for, dream of, is a green card,'' said Lorena AlegrĂ*a, 48, a Nicaraguan.

AlegrĂ*a said she sneaked into the United States through the Mexican border almost 10 years ago and now cleans homes in South Florida so she can support two sons she left behind.

''I miss them every day,'' she said of the boys, who were 9 and 8 when she left. ``But leaving them with other relatives and coming here to work was the only way to ensure their survival.''

Unable to get a driver's license because of her illegal status, AlegrĂ*a fears Border Patrol officers will board one of the buses she regularly takes to her housekeeping jobs and arrest her. Those fears are unfounded because officers only look at buses crossing state lines, but that doesn't stop many of those who live here illegally from worrying about getting caught.

There are an estimated eight million to 11 million illegal migrants in the United States -- and about 850,000 living in Florida, according to the Pew Hispanic Center, a nonprofit research group.

How many live in South Florida remains unclear, but this area's strong economy in construction and services draws people willing to take risks and break U.S. immigration laws to work here, often for less than U.S. workers earn for the same jobs.

Illegal migrants largely work in restaurants, hotels, construction, agriculture and as maids cleaning homes and offices, according to the Pew study.

TEMPORARY PERMITS

President Bush backs temporary work permits for illegal migrants, but several conservative Republicans in Congress want migrants to return to their countries first before seeking those permits -- a position that most Democrats, along with a coalition of business, labor union and religious leaders find untenable.

Randel Johnson, vice president for labor, immigration and employee benefits at the U.S. Chamber of Commerce in Washington, D.C., told The Miami Herald that the economy would be ''disrupted'' if the workers are forced to leave to seek permits.

De La Páz Nieto already has a temporary work permit, but she's worried she might lose the privilege. The 35-year-old Salvadoran woman received the permit because her asylum request is still pending, though she fears it will be denied. Her husband is going through naturalization and she's hoping to get a green card through him.

Nevertheless, Nieto still worries she could be deported because she sneaked across the Texas border in 1990, later joining two older brothers in Miami. She eventually asked for political asylum because of El Salvador's civil strife at the time and married a Nicaraguan who subsequently obtained a green card under a limited amnesty.

''People would not have any confidence that they would get the permits,'' Nieto said of any proposal that would require illegals to leave the United States and then seek work permits before returning. ``There is no guarantee we would be able to get back in.''

If such a law were to pass, she said, ``I will remain in hiding.''

The grown children of undocumented immigrants are particularly vulnerable. They may have spent most of their lives in the United States and know very little about their family's homeland. They often don't realize they are illegal until they are much older and want to go to college. Even if they have lived most of their lives in Florida, the state bars them from paying more affordable in-state tuition because of their illegal status.

MarĂ*a Gabriela Pacheco, 20, an Ecuadorean student at Miami Dade College's Kendall campus, knows first-hand the challenges the children of undocumented families face. A temporary permit would force her to return to a country she barely knows, having arrived here when she was 7.

STUDENT VISA

To go to college, she had to apply for a student visa, and her parents pitched in to pay thousands of dollars more for full tuition. Pacheco is now president of the Florida Junior Community College Student Government Association.

Pacheco's dream of becoming a music therapist for autistic people may not be possible unless Congress opens the way for her before her visa expires.

She is living the American dream -- and yet barely out of the shadows of U.S. immigration law.

''I do see hope in maybe regularizing my status,'' Pacheco said, alluding to the coming debate in Congress. ``Politicians have to think outside the box. Think of the economy and the contributions of immigrants.''