Immigration bill a glimmer of hope amid fear for local immigrants

When he expects to be gone from home for a week or more, Lupe makes sure the mortgage payment on his Everett condo is current or even paid ahead — just in case he can't make it back right away.

And when he visits his sister in Las Vegas, he prefers to drive the 900 miles rather than fly, because "you never know what might happen at an airport."

In the U.S. illegally since 1992, the 37-year-old native of Mexico would like to start his own business doing the kind of insulation work he now does for someone else. And he'd like to sell his condo and buy a single-family home.

"I want to be able to step up and do the right thing," said Lupe, who asked that his last name not be used.

The key to making all that possible, he knows, lies in a complicated and controversial immigration bill in Congress that's fiercely disliked by those on both sides of the debate.

Members of Congress returned to Capitol Hill this week to continue work on the bill, which proposes key changes to the nation's immigration laws — including a way to reconcile the 12 million immigrants already living here illegally.

Those who favor strict immigration enforcement call it amnesty — undeserved forgiveness for people who broke the law, and a license for others to do the same. They point out that for every one of the 2.7 million illegal immigrants who received amnesty in 1986, more than four others have come.

"It becomes like a treadmill," said Ira Mehlman, Seattle-based spokesman for the Federation for American Immigration Reform (FAIR).

Immigrant advocates, however, say the lengthy path to legalization set forth in the bill falls far short of real amnesty.

Winding and expensive, it would withhold permanent legal status for at least eight years for those who dare to attempt it, and instead of leading some families out of the shadows may well land them out of the country.

"With so many hoops, it's entirely possible that the number of people who actually legalize will be far fewer than the 10 to 12 million," said Pramila Jayapal, executive director of Hate Free Zone, an advocacy group in Seattle.

"What does that mean for those who are left? They're not just going to go home."

Like Lupe, Gabriella, 31, another illegal immigrant from Mexico who also asked that her full name not be used, has heard all the arguments. She understands that any path to legal status for her and the three of her four children who are in this country illegally won't come easy — or cheap.

A single mother who came to the country in 1999 and now lives in Auburn, she frets over a provision that would require her to return to Mexico to apply for a green card after living here for at least eight years. Among other concerns, she's afraid she won't be allowed back in.

As a janitor, she worries, too, about how she'll afford the fees set forth in the bill — estimated by some at up to $9,000 for the four of them. Her fourth child was born in the U.S.

Still, Gabriella knows that the bill, as problematic as it might be, represents the only hope for her and her children to live openly in this country.

Legalization would mean she could go to work without worrying that she might not return to her children each night. And it would allow her to get medical insurance for them so she'd stop stressing about what might happen if they took ill.

"It would change so much," she says in Spanish, her face lighting up. "It might not be perfect, but it's something to offer us relief now."

Struggling system

If there's one thing many agree on in this contentious debate, it's that the sheer number of immigrants who might opt for legalization would overwhelm an immigration system already struggling to keep up.

The bill in Congress would make sweeping changes in immigration, including who would be allowed into the country in the first place. But its most debated feature would legalize many of the estimated 12 million undocumented immigrants who were in the country as of Jan. 1, 2007.

A recent USA Today/Gallup poll indicated that 78 percent of all Americans favor giving illegal immigrants that chance.

The path to legalization laid out in the bill would include a series of temporary visas, called Z visas, which are renewable indefinitely; payment of hefty fees and fines; proof of consistent employment or education; and a background check.

Those with a felony or three or more misdemeanors would not qualify. After eight years, the head of the family must return to his or her native country to apply for permanent residency in the U.S.

FAIR's Mehlman calls it "amnesty, with a road trip" and says the "$5,000 fine is the going rate ... to get across the border these days."

The bill's enforcement provisions are recycled from previous years and have no teeth, he said. "Meanwhile, we're still litigating the 1986 amnesty and we'll be litigating this one into the year 2050."

Caroline Espinosa, with NumbersUSA, which opposes illegal immigration, said passage of the bill would lead to a border rush by those willing to use fraud to prove they were here on Jan. 1.

Hilary Stern, executive director of Casa Latina, which operates a day-labor program in Seattle, called the bill more of a gamble than a pass.

"This legalization program effectively entices people into registering and then sets up so many difficult rules to follow that many will fall back into an undocumented status."

It is unclear, she said, if the sporadic work of day laborers would qualify as "consistent" employment under the plan.

She worries that some will try it — and fail — but in trying would have outed themselves. "It will be more difficult to survive in the future if you're undocumented," she said.

Jorge Quiroga, whose group, el Comité Pro-Amnistia, spearheaded last year's street marches, said some people don't know what constitutes a misdemeanor — speeding tickets, unpaid bills?

"I don't like the bill," Quiroga said. "I oppose it 100 percent. But it's easy for me because I have papers. I have to put myself in the shoes of an undocumented person."

A person like Lupe, who says that despite the bill's flaws, he would benefit from it.

He's had steady employment in the insulation industry almost since he came here 14 years ago. And as a single man he can afford the fines and fees.

But when it comes time to apply for his permanent visa, he'll have to "think really hard about whether I'll go back."

As long as they remain in compliance and can afford to, immigrants can renew their Z visas indefinitely.

Lornet Turnbull: 206-464-2420 or lturnbull@seattletimes.com