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May 2005
A Mother’s Choice
Perhaps you met Milagros from her work as a
community organizer with ISAIAH. Maybe you know about her from past
newsletters or from the April 14th issue of the Catholic Spirit. Others of you
may know her from her involvement at St. Odilia’s in Shoreview or
Something we did not share in common is the fact that Milagros was an immigrant mother with an unresolved legal status. A woman who faced imminent deportation because she did not attend a court hearing that she never knew about, scheduled in Los Angeles, CA, a place she never lived. She was taken away by immigration officials the night of March 19, 2002 after a meeting at ISAIAH. After a month in jail, she was released and her legal case has been in process ever since. In April, she received notice that she was to be deported at the end of the month. ISAIAH and the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondolet geared up to ask Immigration officials to halt her deportation but on April 19, Milagros disappeared. What follows is her story. I invite you to read on. When you have finished, I hope you will join with ISAIAH and the US Catholic Bishops in their campaigns for immigration reform. Our faith demands that we act on behalf of justice. The time is now.
Canada, May 03 of 2005 OPEN LETTER I would first like to say that I am sorry for not having maintained contact. I hope that you understand because of my rapid decision and for my safety and the safety of the ones close to me, I saw no other choice but to disappear suddenly in search for the peace and security that I so long for.
Since immigration incarcerated me in 2002 and my case was made public, I lived convincing myself of my imminent return to Peru. I had already taken actions for that. We had decided (me, my son, and the person who would care for him) that my son, my treasure, would remain in Minnesota. I lived in a constant battle between my heart and my mind. While my mind told me that this was the best decision, that Minnesota was a good and safe place for a young adult to grow and develop; my heart was louder, telling me that my son’s place was with me, no matter where nor how. That was how my life transgressed, learning to live from day to day.
A few months ago I began to hear about Canada. I did not know much about this beautiful country, which has welcomed me and in which I now reside since a few days ago. The first time I heard about it was during a presentation during immigrant’s week in Cretin Derham Hall High School. A young man, an angel sent down from heaven, asked me, “Haven’t you thought about going to Canada?” My answer was no. I said that if it was the will of God that I return to Peru, I would trust in the plans that He has for me and would follow them. His question did remain the back of my mind. The second time I heard about Canada was approximately during the month of December. I found out that many of our Colombian brothers and sisters were immigrating there. I began to look into it but with few results. The holidays came along and I forgot about it. In February I received a call from Martha, a Mexican woman that I met in a church in Minneapolis. She called me from Canada and she very excitedly told me everything. Her departure, her arrival, how people received her… I noticed great happiness in her voice as she told me, “I don’t know if I will win my case or not. I don’t know if I’ll remain in this country, but that doesn’t matter. I’ll immigrate to Australia or I’ll see, but it is worth staying here because I have never been treated with such respect and consideration, even from Canada’s immigration officers.”
Towards the end of January, after having lost my appeal before the Immigration Board of Appeals, immigration decided to place a bracelet on my ankle and to make me enter into a curfew program. I was to report in person 3 times a week, be at home after 7pm, and have somebody for the immigration office visit at my house to check in also. They were very tough times. My first reactions were of humiliation. Why did they put this on me? I was on bail (we paid $2,500 in bail), and the case in Minnesota was already on its third year. What was the purpose? Some days I felt like Cinderella running home before the clock struck midnight. On other days, my foot would become swollen and the device on my ankle bothered me, but with the help of my sisters, I learned how to love my ankle bracelet and became good friends with it. I was able to overcome the first month. Thank God they took the bracelet off the next month, but I still had to report to immigration and had house visits less frequently. My lawyer chose to appeal to the court in California. We had much confidence that the judges would re-open my case and that I would be able to fight for at least another year. My dream was to be able to stay in order to see my son graduate from High School in 2006.
On April 9, my lawyer informed me that the Court of California had returned my case to Minnesota without even opening it and without explaining why (this is very frequent now although illegal). He explained to me that I had even lost my right to voluntary departure (a right that I had paid $500 for and that the judge in Minnesota had guaranteed). I was only able to ask, “How many months do I have?” He replied, “I’m sorry, maybe two weeks.” He added that on Tuesday, April 12, we had to report to the office of deportations and speak to the official in charge of my case. He said that he didn’t think that I would be detained, but that it was possible. They wanted to be sure that I understand my situation. I was very afraid of that interview. I know many cases in which they ask you to go to that place for a “meeting” and never come out. I was not detained at that meeting but I was given a deportation document. I was to leave the country in two weeks, on Tuesday, April 26. The immigration official had already decided on a date of deportation, although the Minnesota judge had not even looked at my case yet. I was to report at 6 a.m. to the immigration office and they (who had taken my passport some time ago) would take me to board the plane. I tried to keep my cool in order to prioritize and to make good decisions. What are the most necessary things to take in a 40lb bag (which is what immigration allows)? Who would take care of our cats? What should remain packed in order to have it sent to us in the future? Above all, I needed to let go of everything else, whether expensive or not, that was not important.
My biggest worry was my son. I was still facing my internal struggle of whether to leave him or take him. My lawyer offered to keep fighting his case pro-bono. We spoke every night about this subject. I, as always, was willing to make any sacrifice for him. In my heart, I did not have peace until I found the answer in myself and I made the decision that wherever I go, he would go with me. I felt peace and was sure about having decided correctly. I communicated my decision to my son with energy but also with fear. Knowing that he wanted to stay, his response surprised me and reassured me: “Mom, I’ll go wherever you go. You are the only person I have and I’m the only person you have, but can we please go to Canada?”
On April 14, I decided that this would be my last day of work. I needed time to organize everything I needed to do (cancel utilities, pack, school, etc.). That morning, I received a call from my lawyer telling me that an immigration official had postponed the deportation to May 10, but that I had to report to the immigration offices on April 26. It was possible that they would put another bracelet on my ankle. My emotional state could not handle any more. I felt desperate and tired. All I wanted was to end everything already. I could no longer stand the pressure. I felt that I could no longer stand to have the bracelet put on my leg again. In that moment, I decided to leave for Canada. I called my son and told him to come home early (he always stayed after school to do sports) and he did so. I decided to leave for Canada that same night, without saying goodbye to anyone and without sharing my plans with anyone except for my son. Why? It was for our own safety and the safety of people close to us. I knew that immigration would try to find me and try to find people who were guilty or “conspired” with me.
And that is exactly what happened. Immigration officials, in their impotence, used all of their “resources.” I try to find (without success) a logical explanation of why they act with so much hate in my case and they take it so personal. From experience, I know of many immigrants that simply vanish or move to other states and nothing happens. But in the case of Milagros Jimenez, this can’t happen. There needs to be vengeance. First, they detained my roommate. They scared her, turned her against me by telling her that I didn’t think of her when I decided to leave, that I was a terrorist, a criminal, a danger to national security. They later threatened to deport her and maybe even take away her two year old daughter, but they told her that none of this would happen if she agreed to work for them as an informant. They even suggested to her that she marry her American fiancé soon in order to avoid deportation. Her job would be to find my whereabouts, obtain photographs, names and addresses of people close to me. To this moment, they have detained three people. Two of them are my brothers and one is a young Peruvian whose only sin was to be a friend of the family. I know that they are still thirsty for vengeance and that they are still using their tactics of putting people against each other so that we sell each other out. I also know that, backed by laws that give them unlimited power, they have gone into some private information. I know that many friends and family are afraid. I ask for forgiveness for causing all of this unintentionally. I would have liked to do what you expected of me, but I am not more than a woman, a mother, a human being who feels fear and despair, and who makes decisions thinking about what is best for herself and for her son.
To the immigration officials in charge of my case I don’t hold a grudge against you. I send all of the blessings that the Lord may have for you and I have even prayed for the daughter of one of you, the one who hates me the most, the one who always ridiculed me, the one who never missed an opportunity to threaten me whenever he saw me. I know that many of you find yourselves trapped with laws that do not work and that don’t leave you another option, but I also think that you could use your power of discretion and make these bad laws a little more humane, giving recommendations on how to make it better, and, above all, by treating immigrant human beings with the respect and dignity that we all deserve simply for being in this world.
I would first like to express my infinite gratitude to God, recognizing that without Him none of this would be possible. My friends, thanks for being there even with the risks that you are faced with. I would also like to thank the members of ISAIAH for teaching me to find inside myself the lioness that was dormant, for helping me reconstruct my self confidence, for their fight for immigrants and for the voiceless. The priests, pastors, and religious women that visited me daily while I was incarcerated and kept my spirits up and the thousands of people that sent letters telling me about how I had touched their lives. To my Sisters of St. Joseph, I love you so much and I feel proud to be a part of you. To my lawyers Jorge Saavedra and Benjamin Casper, thank you for your excellent work and God bless you with abundance. I know that many of you didn’t or don’t understand my disappearance. Hopefully this letter helps you understand my reasons and to forgive me. I hope that my case serves to understand the issue of immigration more thoroughly. There are thousands and thousands of Milagros’ trapped in the limbo under the current immigration law. People that don’t have anybody to speak out for them or defend them. To those who are not my friends, blessings. I will always hold Minnesota dearly in my heart and have a deep appreciation for the country. I am convinced that nothing happens out of coincidence, but by divine providence, and it was Him who brought me to the United States to learn and to grow as a human being. Thank you for my experience during the 9 years, for the joys, which were many, and thank you also for the immense pain, which made me a greater person. To my immigrant brothers and sisters, I love you and hold you in my heart. Thank you for everything you teach me. Let’s stay united and, above all, let’s never forget that we ARE worthy. That God himself created us in his own image and likeness and that we deserve the best. Let’s continue with our right to dream for a different future for ourselves and our loved ones. Let’s never forget that we descend for great cultures, the Aztecs, Mayans, and Incas, that we descend from the sun, the puma, and the lighting and because of that we have great strength.
Peace and Blessings,
Milagros Jimenez Ruiz Consociate with the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet
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the community
of Sagrado Corazón de Jesús in S Minneapolis. I know Milagros first and foremost
as a friend and colleague. We met through her organizing work and she often
helped with translation for Archdiocesan events. Overall, we shared a friendship
and mutual concern for what was happening to and with people in the Latino
community.