http://www.usnews.com/usnews/news/artic ... ration.htm
6/20/05
Under The Sun
A New wave of immigrants is Transforming communities nowhere near the border
By Liz Halloran

CARRBORO, N.C. --The young Mexican men arrive just before nightfall, some still in work clothes spattered with paint and plaster. Their sun-baked faces sag with exhaustion from another long day mowing lawns, hanging drywall, and framing the latest luxury condominiums rising just up the road in Chapel Hill.

Roberto, who shares this two-bedroom, one-bath apartment and $455 monthly rent with five other men, greets a group of friends with hugs. The pungent aroma of chicken mole wafts from the kitchen where Francisco, in a T-shirt that reads, "You say psycho like it's a bad thing," stirs the pot.

The men, who work illegally in the area's thriving shadow economy, sprawl on secondhand couches and drain icy bottles of Corona beer, needling each other over soccer bets and joking about their American patrons. "A moving man ask me if I speak English," says Elias, in a language he's learning watching U.S. movies and television, "and I say, 'Why? I no talk to the furniture.' " The men laugh. "We're here because we need a couple bucks," says Roberto, who crossed the border six years ago. "We made a lot of mistakes . . . but this don't mean we're bad guys or different, we just didn't have money in Mexico. Here, I see a beautiful opportunity if we do it right."

But where Roberto sees opportunity, many Americans see and feel something very different. Waves of undocumented immigrants, most from Mexico, are pouring into North Carolina and other states that have little tradition of large-scale immigration. And with no road map, these states are struggling to understand what's happening and what it means. Bitter debate, fueled by talk radio, new interest groups, and nostalgia for a more simple past, has dogged the new immigrants, from Georgia to Utah, Tennessee to Arizona.

No return. Nearly 11 million undocumented immigrants already live in the United States, and nearly 800,000 more are believed to arrive each year. A U.S. Census Bureau report released last week said the nation's overall Hispanic population--legal and illegal--reached 41.3 million as of July 2004, and noted that Hispanics accounted for about one half of America's population growth between July 2003 and July 2004.

And there's no going back. Not for states like California and Texas, where undocumented workers have been living for generations, and not for other states, where the variegated weave is new. A study released in March by the Pew Hispanic Center reported that since the mid-1990s, the fastest growth of undocumented migrants has been in states that previously had only small foreign-born populations--places like Arizona, Massachusetts, and Nevada. Latino populations in these "new settlement areas" grew by 130 percent between 1990 and 2000.

The influx has prompted strong reactions. In Virginia, a lawmaker proposed barring illegal immigrants from state colleges and universities. In Arizona, the Legislature denied some welfare benefits to undocumented workers. But no state is struggling over the issue as mightily as North Carolina. Here the Latino population, mostly undocumented immigrants, has surged 400 percent in 15 years. "The demographics have changed so fast," says Millie Ravenel, executive director of the North Carolina Center for International Understanding, "that people are struggling to figure out how to make it work."

A bitter war of words has broken out here over the increase, which has been fueled by the lure of agriculture, poultry-processing and unskilled-labor jobs, and a surfeit of work created by a construction boom. Tensions flared after 9/11, with increased fears about terrorists crossing the southern border. Last year, Fern Shubert, an unsuccessful GOP candidate for governor, argued that illegal immigration undermined security. Those seeking controls on new immigrants have been branded racists, while others working to help Latinos assimilate have been sharply criticized. "We're in the middle of a huge national debate here in North Carolina, and we need federal help," says Andrea Bazan Manson, executive director of El Pueblo Inc., a not-for-profit advocacy group. "The Latino community is here, and now we have to figure out what to do about it."

On their own. It's unclear when, or if, states will get any guidance from Washington. President Bush's proposal to issue temporary guest-worker permits to illegal immigrants living in this country has gotten a cool reception. Bipartisan legislation written by Sens. Edward Kennedy and John McCain would provide temporary work permits and the opportunity to earn legal status over time while strengthening border control and cracking down on employers who hire workers illegally. The measure has drawn interest from all sides, but its future is uncertain.

So, for the moment, states like North Carolina are on their own. "Immigration isn't bad," says Ron Woodard of NC Listen, an organization that advocates drastic reductions in immigration and tighter border control. "The current way we're doing it is bad." The Tar Heel state, better known for college basketball and its high-tech Research Triangle Park, now ranks eighth in the nation in undocumented foreign-born residents, with more than 300,000. A handful of its small rural communities, including Siler City, where white supremacist David Duke held an anti-immigration rally in 2000, have seen their schools become predominantly Latino in less than a decade. Cities like Raleigh and Charlotte are seeing the beginnings of a similar phenomenon.

Services catering to the new immigrant population, meanwhile, have sprung up across the state. A Hispanic credit union now has 32,000 members and five branches. In Carrboro, El Centro Latino operates an after-school program for youngsters who speak to each other in English but to their teacher in Spanish. An Anglo couple has made a good business running the El Mercado Central market on West Main Street. Even longtime local businesses like Johnny Howard's bait and tackle shop are adapting. Howard, who had rented out the rear of his small building to a Latino selling groceries and produce, eventually swapped his larger space with the grocer, whose business was thriving. "I've been doing this 33 years and renting to him helps me," says Howard, a lifelong resident. "Life changes, just like when Wal-Mart came in. You just got to deal with it."

But pitched battles continue on many fronts, safety nets are strained, and the cracks of a divided society are everywhere. At Piedmont Health Services' busy Carrboro Community Health Center, 75 percent of the 30,000 patients treated every year are Spanish-speaking, up from 45 percent two years ago. Doctors are seeing many more young families requiring prenatal care, more cases of diabetes, and a sharp increase in uninsured patients, says Brian Toomey, the clinic's executive director. "We need help," he says. Outreach workers at Durham's El Centro Hispano say there has been a significant uptick in the incidence of sexually transmitted diseases, including HIV, among Latinos. Organized prostitution rings that cater to the legions of young male immigrants are opening brothels and bringing in waves of new workers every two weeks, fueling the health risk, says the center's Oscar Garcia.

New threats. Police are also grappling with fresh challenges. After Charlotte recorded 19 gang killings in three years, federal prosecutors in 2003 formed a special unit to target Latino gangs, including the traditionally Salvadoran MS-13. The gangs, many comprising illegal immigrants, trafficked in drugs and committed car thefts and drive-by shootings. Twenty members of MS-13 were eventually charged with murder, and 110 gang members who weren't U.S. citizens were arrested and deported.

But no issue has touched a nerve like education. As Latino enrollment grows--45 schools in the Charlotte area have Hispanic enrollment of 20 percent or more--so have concerns about the strains on the system. Woodard's group says that one third of the state's 78,700 limited-English students are here illegally or are dependents of undocumented residents. Their presence, Woodard argues, is taking resources away from children of legal residents.

All these issues came together earlier this year in a debate over proposed state legislation that would have allowed foreign-born children of undocumented immigrants to pay in-state tuition at North Carolina colleges. Federal law obligates states to educate children of illegal immigrants through high school, but foreign-born students have to pay out-of-state tuition if they go to college. "That bill," said Bazan Manson, "brought everything to a head."

Conceived by Latino advocates, the legislation was intended as an incentive for Latino students to stay in high school and to make college affordable to young people like Perla, a 16-year-old born in Mexico but raised in the United States by her undocumented parents since she was a year old. She takes French and sings in the choir at the performing arts magnet school in the Research Triangle area, and she wants to study psychology or medicine in college. But she'd have to pay out-of-state student tuition and, without citizenship, is ineligible for financial aid. "I plan on staying here and hope eventually I can get the same opportunity as others," she says.

Firestorm. Initially, 33 state legislators signed on to the bill, but the backlash was so swift and fierce that by the end of the week of its introduction at least a half dozen lawmakers had withdrawn their support; by late April the number who had backed out was up to 11. Organizations like "Stop the Invasion!" and NC Listen argued that the bill would encourage more illegal immigration. Even Rush Limbaugh weighed in to oppose it. "Giving privileges to people who break the law is not helping the issue," says Woodard of NC Listen. He argues that the state should stay out of the business of making laws regarding undocumented immigrants and should work instead with Washington to enforce existing immigration laws to stem the influx. "Illegal immigrants and unscrupulous employers are doing things that hurt Americans," says Woodard, a high-tech worker. "I understand why people want to come to America, but low-skilled Americans also want to make their lives better. It has finally reached a situation where the public has said they've had enough."

Though similar legislation has passed in nine states and is also being considered at the federal level, Bazan Manson says she knew the tuition bill would involve a tough battle, and she received a flood of E-mails, some of them threatening. The bill is now dying in a legislative committee. Next year, she says, the tuition proposal will be back, but the effort will be more behind the scenes.

Back at the Carrboro apartment, the men sing along with the border songs of a favorite band, Los Tigres del Norte, as a caramel evening sun streams through an open window. The beers have loosened the men's inhibitions, and they talk about their pride in their jobs. "We do the best work in construction, carpentry, and landscaping," says one. "For the Mexican, everything is about working." The men talk about Washington's efforts to close up the border--an attempt they call fruitless. They linger, but not too late. Most will be up early the next day, some to go to regular jobs at restaurants or hotels or their own fledgling landscaping businesses, others to stand outside the Kangaroo convenience store across the street, waiting for someone who will pay a day's wages for a strong back and a sure set of hands. "But now we think about Mexico and forget for a few hours that we are here," says Roberto. "And then we wait to go back to work."