Born in Manila, Carla N. was 5 years old when her family brought her to this country. “Our papers haven’t been fixed, and I have been undocumented since,” she said.

Now 21, Carla N., who asked that her full name not be used, attends the University of Illinois at Chicago, where she is a senior studying art education and English.

Still undocumented, Carla said she worries about her future. She is one of many young immigrants who were brought to the United States while still children by parents who were looking for a better life. Like many others, Carla was disappointed when the House of Representatives passed the DREAM Act this week but was pulled from a vote by the Senate leadership on Thursday to avoid defeat. The DREAM Act is legislation that would create a path to citizenship for a special category of illegal immigrants, those who were brought to the U.S. as children.

Under the act, qualifying undocumented youth will be eligible for permanent residency if they enroll in college or serve in the military and wait for six years. They can then apply for full citizenship.

Like so many other young people seeking permanent status here, Carla is involved in many advocacy organizations such as Immigrant Youth Justice League (IYJL), Illinois Coalition for Immigrant and Refugee Rights (ICIRR) and the Asian American Institute.

“A lot of us are living in the shadows,” Carla said. “I knew I wanted to go to college; I was like a straight A student…but in my junior [year] I thought I wasn’t going to be able to go to college.”

Carla’s older sister went to a community college because she didn’t have the money to pay for a four-year institution and did not know how to apply to a university due to her legal status.

Carla asked her counselors, and they directed her to schools that were more lenient in their admissions policies. She applied at UIC but since she didn’t have a Social Security number, she had to apply as an international student.

Carla’s parents pay in-state tuition, but she can’t get government help such as loans or grants. She said all she can apply for are private scholarships.

In one more year, Carla will graduate, and she is hoping that she will have the opportunity to obtain residency to be able to work using her degree.

Many other young adults want to continue college but are afraid of what is going to happen when they graduate. Evelyn Perez, 24, a student and worker, said she got her residency when she was graduating from high school but that she feared her dreams would never come true.

“I live for my dreams. I always wanted to go to college and be someone in this life. I’m the first one from my family to actually go to college, and I’m very proud,” Perez said. “I can imagine what these kids are going through, and I really hope the DREAM Act will be approved.”

Perez said she has a cousin who is undocumented and she wishes she could help her because she knows she is struggling.

“She is only 21 years old. Her first language is English. She is American, all her family is here, and she can’t go to college because she can’t afford it,” said Perez. “She has a daughter and she works in a factory for the minimum wage; she is very smart and she wants to become a better person not only for herself but for her daughter.”

Perez said she doesn’t understand why Congress won’t pass the DREAM Act, since it is not the young immigrants’ fault they were brought here as dependent children. She said this is beyond an immigration issue and more like a human rights issue.

“The right to be able to help these kids to be educated — what if one of those kids is going to be the person that will discover the cure for cancer?” Perez asked.

Not everyone agrees with Perez.

Marco Garcia, 20, lives in Logan Square and was born in Chicago. He said the bill is not fair for all the immigrants who live in this country. He said there are older people who are hard workers who also deserve the opportunity to become legal residents, but they will not be covered by the DREAM Act.

“It’s either help everybody or help none because not everyone is in college or the army,” Garcia said.

Others oppose the DREAM Act as well.

An article posted by the PR Newswire, United Business Media, said the DREAM Act might reduce educational opportunities available to U.S. citizens.

The article said each immigrant who attends a public institution would receive a tuition subsidy of about $6,000 from taxpayers each year. According to the article, the DREAM Act will cost taxpayers $6.2 billion a year and since funds to attend college are limited, this will reduce U.S. citizens’ opportunity to obtain an education.

According to the DREAM Act website, the path to citizenship would include conditional permanent residency, which is similar to legal permanent residency. This would allow applicants to work, drive and travel as well as be eligible for student loans and federal work-study programs. They would not be eligible for federal financial aid such as Pell grants.

The requirements are: They must have entered the United States before the age of 16, must have graduated from a United States high school, or have obtained a GED or have been accepted into an institution of higher education, such as a college or university; must be between the ages of 12 and 35 at the time of application and must not have an arrest record.

This DREAM Act was introduced in 2001, said Catherine Salgado, director of communications of ICIRR. “We have been working. It’s an ongoing work generating support form different schools, Democrats and Republicans,” Salgado said.

She said ICIRR is working to get more support and joining events to create awareness about this issue.

“Every minute is important,” Salgado said. “The DREAM Act impacts every generation.”

Maria De La Torre, an admissions officer at Northeastern Illinois University, said when students apply to enter college, they need a Social Security number. Since they don’t have one, they have to answer the question by either writing zeros or nines.

De La Torre added that undocumented students can’t fill out an application for federal loans or grants because it is a federal document.

Jeff Hoker, 48, a resident and employee in Chicago, said the DREAM Act is like an investment, because immigrants grow up in this country and they are not going anywhere; therefore, educating them will make the country better.

“They are already here. They learned the language. They don’t know anything about the [country they left behind], they know this culture,” said Hoker. “I just think that it will be beneficial for everybody and humanitarian.”

At a debate held in Glencoe last Thursday, illegal immigration was a topic over which Dold and Democratic candidate Dan Seals disagreed.

“As much as it’s about who’s working in our country, it’s also very much about national security,” Dold said. “Let’s not forget we are in the midst of a war on terror, that there are people out there who do not like us because of the freedoms we enjoy.”

Democratic candidate Dan Seals said he also thinks that securing the Mexican border is critical, but unlike Dold, who favors building a fence along the border, Seals supports increased border patrols.

Seals also said that Dold had not addressed the issue of undocumented immigrants who are currently living in the United States.

“A lot of people say, let’s pull them out of their beds and ship them off somehow. I don’t know how you can do that. How much would you spend to do that?” he said.

Seals vowed to crack down on companies and businesses that hire undocumented immigrants. His plan for reform would also have undocumented immigrants pay a fee for being in the country illegally, undergo a criminal background check, and be able to  demonstrate financial independence.

When asked about his political stance on the Dream Act, legislation that would allow undocumented immigrants who came to the United States as children to remain in the U.S. conditionally, Dold said he thought it was a step in the right direction.

“I would like to see come changes made. I’d like to see it going from two years to three years. I’d like to see the military and AmeriCorps or something else like that and then allow them to go into education after that,” Dold said.

Currently the Dream Act requires only two years completion of college or two years of military service in order to be eligible for conditional permanent residency.

Seals spokeswoman Aviva Gibbs said while Seals supports the tenets of the Dream Act, he believes the Comprehensive Immigration Reform for America’s Security and Prosperity Act (CIR ASAP) is the first step for undocumented immigrants seeking citizenship.

The Dream Act legislation is actually a part of the CIR ASAP bill; however, instead of being offered only to minors, CIR would extend conditional residency to all eligible undocumented immigrants.

Dold’s views on immigration mirror those of Republican Rep. Mark Kirk, who voted for the Secure Fence Act, legislation that increased border surveillance and required fencing and additional barriers to be installed along the Mexican border. Kirk has represented Illinois’ 10^th District for the past decade.

A recent nationwide poll by Quinnipiac University asked 1,905 registered voters for their opinions on immigration reform. The question asked, “Do you think immigration reform should primarily move in the direction of integrating illegal immigrants into American society, or in the direction of stricter enforcement of laws against illegal immigration?”

Only 24 percent were in favor of integration; 68 percent said they favored stricter enforcement of existing immigration laws.

The Judicial Performance Commission Pilot Project is a joint effort by the Chicago Appleseed Fund for Justice, a research and advocacy organization focusing on criminal justice reform, judicial election and selection reform, and government effectiveness and the Chicago Council of Lawyers, a public interest bar association dedicated to improving the quality of the legal system by advocating for fair and efficient administration of justice in Chicago.

The two organizations often work together to further our mutual goals of reform, accountability and justice. Together, Chicago Appleseed and the Council comprise a public interest partnership working together through joint projects and publications including:

• The 2009 edition of the Legal Services Directory of free and low cost legal services is now on the website, www.chicagoappleseed.org, and is available in a hard copy edition. We have been publishing this listing and description of free and low cost legal services since 1982.
• A brochure on consumer fraud, Consumer Rights in Illinois, a full-color brochure that includes state and citywide information for Illinois residents to use when reporting complaints. This brochure is printed in English and Spanish, and is distributed free of charge.
• A new edition of the Judicial Directory containing the Chicago Council of Lawyers’ judicial evaluations of all judges sitting in Cook County through March 2009.  The Directory is published both on the website and in hard copy.
• And the soon to be published, 2010 edition of the Tenant-Landlord Handbook, a discussion of rights and obligations for Chicago tenants and landlords that has been publishing for more than 25 years.

Chicago Appleseed’s comprehensive examination of Chicago’s felony trial courtrooms, supported by the Chicago Community Trust, has led to these changes:

• Successfully negotiated the end of videoconferencing in bond court.
• Created an ongoing court watching program at the Criminal Courts Building.
• The addition of five  judges assigned to the Criminal Courts Building at 26th and California.

Chicago Appleseed works with the national Appleseed organization and its pro bono partners, Latham & Watkins LLC and Akin Gump Strauss Hauer & Feld LLP,  on immigration reform and issues. They produced a comprehensive report on the immigration courts, Assembly Line Injustice. The Chicago Appleseed and Chicago Council are working with the Chicago Kent College of Law to operate a court watching program for the immigration courts in Chicago, and working with the Legal Assistance Foundation of Metropolitan Chicago on self-help materials for immigrants appearing pro se (represent yourself) immigration courts.

A van used for transport and processing of detained undocumented immigrants in Broadview, Ill.

An all-night vigil was held April 27 outside the Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) daytime staging facility in Broadview, Ill., culminating in a planned civil disobedience action. Around 100 supporters and various immigration reform organizations participated throughout the night in protest of U.S. immigration laws, which they say break up families and violate human rights.

“We want to send the message to President Obama that he needs to stop raids and deportations” said Padre Jose Landaverde. “We want legalization for all.”

Members of local religious groups, students and supporters sat down in front of the ICE immigration center in a move aimed at stopping the relocation of detainees for deportation. Two dozen protesters were arrested during the peaceful demonstration.

“If the fight is going to be fought, then we need to escalate,” said Rabbi Joshua Salter. “Civil disobedience is the next step for the good of all,” he added before being taken away by police.

For the moment, the 24 protesters were successful as the van began to back up into the processing center parking lot while chants of “We shall not be moved” rose from the sidelined crowd.

But white vans full of detainees arrive and depart from Broadview on a regular basis.

According to Gail Montenegro, an officer of ICE Public Affairs, the Immigrations and Customs Enforcement (ICE) staging facility in Broadview processes approximately 250 undocumented individuals each week.

This year, nearly 400,000 undocumented immigrants around the U.S. will be deported, according to an ICE memo subject titled “removal goals.” The quota for deportations has risen during the Obama administration.

According to a report from the Office of Immigration Statistics, the number of deportations over the last 10 years has doubled; the lowest point being around 160,00

Rabbi Joshua Salter and Padre Jose Landaverde demonstrate at the ICE detention center in Broadview, Ill., prior to their arrest.

0, in 2002. It has risen steadily since.

In 2008, nearly one-third of deportations were due to criminal activity. The remaining two-thirds were largely a combination of work-place raids, denied applications for legal residency and travel violations.

Individuals in this ‘two-thirds’ category vary greatly in circumstance. While some, as adults, may have overstayed a visitors’ visa, many have been brought to the U.S. as children. As these children grow to reach adulthood they frequently find they are ineligible for many social services afforded to citizens, though they may have spent equal amounts of time in the country. This becomes apparent in cases of such as employment, as well as higher education; many states prohibit undocumented immigrants from attending college.

The issue of rights and liberties becomes complicated when applied to the nearly 12 million individuals in the country illegally. Many Constitutional rights are guaranteed to any person residing in the country, even illegally; these are ‘natural rights,’ as exemplified through many U.S. Supreme Court rulings affecting immigrants, such as Wong Wing v. U.S., in which the Supreme Court ruled that the “the 14th Amendment to the Constitution [civil rights] is not confined to the protection of citizens.” Many civil liberties apply to undocumented immigrants as well, such as the right to free expression and due process.

In short, once inside U.S. borders, undocumented immigrants have the same protections as all U.S. citizens.

“Immigration didn’t use to be this political,” said Justin Randolph, a Chicago immigration attorney. “There’s a lot of abuse of the system.”

According to Randolph, detention of immigrants is now a multi-billion dollar business, which on a local level includes “arbitrary decisions” that create a “disparity between cases as far as where a person lives.”

“It’s about who’s coming in, and not that they’re going through the process,” said Randolph. “What you’re running into now is ‘keep all the brown people out’.”

Nationwide, many citizens and undocumented residents are calling for comprehensive immigration reform. The debate has escalated in the wake of Arizona’s S.B. 1070, which was signed on April 23 and is seen by many as a law that promotes racial profiling. Acts of civil disobedience, including a hunger strike and organized resistance to detainee transportation, have emerged around the country in protest to current U.S. immigration laws.

“I think [civil disobedience] lets everyone in the nation know that the current system is so broken that people have had enough,” said Tom Walsh, director of Advocacy and Public Policy at the Jewish Council on Urban Affairs. “I hope it’s waking people up to the severity of the issue.”

[vimeo]http://vimeo.com/11721836[/vimeo]

After their arrest at the ICE processing center, Walsh and the 23 other protesters were taken to Broadview police department holding cells and charged with misdemeanors and disorderly conduct. This, according to Walsh, is from having “knowingly failed to obey a lawful order of dispersal, causing substantial inconvenience by blocking traffic.”

The group has been released and awaits a court date on May 24.

Chicago Public Radio’s City Room reports on protests for immigration reform.

[vimeo]http://vimeo.com/11438244[/vimeo]

Chicago Public Radio’s City Room reports on the protests.

Youth Protesters Talk About Immigration Reform

Eight undocumented young people are taking their fight to Washington after “coming out of the shadows” last week in Chicago’s Federal Plaza.

The Immigrant Youth Justice League and nearly 6,000 Illinois supporters will join thousands from around the country in Washington, D.C. on Sunday to demand that President Barack Obama uphold his promise to support comprehensive immigration reform.

“We want to bring the message to the president that immigration reform is urgent and affects a lot people, not only immigrants but also citizens in regards to the economy and keeping families together,” said Catherine Salgado, a member of the Illinois Coalition for Immigrant and Refugee Rights. “We are asking the president to use leadership in moving immigration reform forward.”

The trip to Washington follows last Wednesday’s march for immigration reform where hundreds of supporters joined the Immigrant Youth Justice League in Chicago’s Union Park; protesters marched through downtown before assembling at a rally in Federal Plaza.

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HS93wb_jpAg&NR=1[/youtube]

“We are here to say that we are undocumented and unafraid,” said one young person as supporters took up the chant.

At the risk of possible deportation, members of the League declared their immigration status to the crowd gathered below Sen. Dick Durbin’s office in a move meant to “turn up the heat “ on the senator, an advocate of comprehensive immigration reform.

Several phone calls were made to Sen. Durbin during the rally, but the calls were redirected to his voice mail.

Among the issues addressed at the rally were education, social services and human rights as well as deportations, which are reported to have increased under the Obama administration.

While there are several ways to gain access to the country, many undocumented immigrants are brought to the U.S. as children only to find, typically upon graduating high school, that services guaranteed to their peers are denied them despite years of growing up in this country. A student may graduate high school to find that they are ineligible for the financial aid that could pay for college.

“[I] received a $20,000 scholarship from a great university,” said Uriel Sanchez, a member of the League. “One week before I was supposed to start school I received a call from an administrator asking for my social security number … I didn’t have one, and I had to pass on the scholarship and on going to a four-year university.”

Though it isn’t against the law for undocumented students to attend college in the U.S., stories of undocumented students held from college educations are common. The DREAM act, supported by U.S. Rep. Luis Gutierrez, would alleviate this situation by proposing that undocumented youth be eligible for a conditional path to citizenship in exchange for completion of a college degree or two years of military service.

As the U.S. continues to struggle over how to best deal with immigration, stories of deferred educations, separated families, workplace raids and back-logged legalization processes serve as narratives on the state of our national undocumented population.

Under the present law, any of the nearly 11 million individuals in the U.S. illegally are subject to arrest, detainment or deportation.

According to a written statement from Gail Montenegro, spokeswoman for the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement in Illinois, “U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) respects the fundamental right of individuals to advocate for reform of our nation’s immigration laws. ICE is focused on smart, effective immigration enforcement that places priority first on those dangerous criminal aliens who present the greatest risk to the security of our communities.”

To contact Sen. Dick Durbin’s office with your comments, call (312) 353-4952 or click here.

“Here, anything is good,” said Naama. “It’s a good life—a nice one.”

Naama is one of an estimated 2,400 Iraqi refugees to resettle to Illinois over the last 2 ½ years, one of 18,000 who have resettled nationwide. The resettlement process, experts say, isn’t easy. But for those like Naama who fled a world of chaos, resettlement is the crisp red apple on the tree of freedom.

Naama, who had fled Iraq for Lebanon, arrived in the United States on July 27, 2009. His wife, Bernadette, 28, came with him. The two met in Lebanon where Bernadette Naama, originally from the Philippines, had originally gone to find work. But because she had been working without proper paperwork, her husband had to pay a hefty fine to get her out of the country.

“He insisted to pay because he didn’t want to go to America without me,” she said. “When we were inside the plane, we felt very safe.”

Once in Chicago, workers from the Heartland Alliance Refugee and Immigrant Community Services (RICS) met the couple and helped them get in touch with her aunt, who they lived with for about two months. But the tight living situation caused tension in their relationship. Bernadette said she and her husband were fighting all the time.

She said when her husband first came to the United States, he had a hard time getting used to the idea that he was a free person because he had gone from a dictatorial government to a democracy.

“It was so hard for my husband,” she said.

But now that the couple has their own apartment, Bernadette said things have become much more pleasant. Still, she said there is a lot of hurt hiding behind her husband’s broad smile and jovial laughter.

“He’s just pretending to be happy,” she said.

Sattar Naama left Iraq for Lebanon in 2000 in hopes of finding work. He returned for a visit in May 2008 after finding out his brother, Muhammad, had been killed by terrorists. On May 13, when Naama and his sister were in his car, a white car with four men wearing black masks showing only their eyes pulled alongside them. Naama noticed at least one of the men had a gun. The man pointed the gun at him and questioned him.

“They said, ‘Why did you come to Iraq—because your father died?’” said Naama. His father had died recently as well. Then the man said, “’I kill you now.’”

Tires screeched as Naama pulled away from the men and made a U-turn in the narrow street; one of the masked men pointed a gun at him again. As he started driving off, the pop of a gunshot echoed through the air. When Naama looked over at his sister, she was dead.

“I need to forget it, but I can’t,” said Naama. He said his family is the biggest thing he misses about Iraq now and that he has no plans of ever going back. He also misses the perks of his job in Lebanon as a supervisor of a cleaning company.

“I had money, a car—I had everything,” said Naama. He said he’s happy, though, because he just got a job working six days a week at Little Lady Foods, a frozen food manufacturer in Elk Grove Village, Ill.

The job requires him to make a 2½-hour trip each morning, which means he has to leave his apartment by 3 a.m. to make it there on time. The reddish tint to his dark eyes shows how the traveling has affected him. But he has a job nonetheless.

Sarah Cady, senior program officer of reception and placement at the U.S. Committee for Refugees and Immigrants (USCRI), said it’s often hard for refugees to find employment once in the country.

“We really want clients to become self-sufficient earlier, and with the economic downturn,” said Cady, “it’s become more of a challenge.”

She said the steps for successful resettlement in the U.S. involve having an adequate amount of culturally competent people on staff to help refugees and the ability for refugees to have access to employment, housing, case management and English language services.

Naama is taking an English class at the Heartland Alliance and though he has progressed a lot, his English still waivers at some points.

“It’s very hard for him to learn English,” said Bernadette Naama. Thankfully, she is relatively fluent in English and helps her husband when she can.

Ed Silverman, bureau chief of Immigrant and Refugee Services at the Illinois Department of Human Services, said learning English is crucial.

“The fact of the matter is, the better your English, the higher your pay is going to be,” said Silverman. “Learning English is a primary survival tool.”

Silverman said refugee resettlement is a long process. He said it takes a minimum of three years before refugee families find economic stability. And in Lebanon, where Naama and his wife had been living prior to coming to the United States, things are very unstable.

“In Lebanon, the situation is challenging,” said Elizabeth Campbell, a senior advocate for Refugees International. She said Lebanon has a history of political instability and division. USCRI estimates there are 50,600 Iraqi asylum seekers and refugees in Lebanon. Those refugees, said Campbell, are “generally viewed with a certain amount of suspicion and fear.”

Bernadette Naama said she and her husband were definitely an oddity to the Lebanese. She said that though the people at first came across as very kind and polite, they would regularly talk about her behind her back.

“The people there are all biting you at the back,” she said.

One afternoon, while Naama was waiting for his wife to come down from getting something in an apartment, a group of about 11 Lebanese men threatened to attack him because he wouldn’t move his car from the side of the road.

They said “’you better move your car or we’re going to kick you.”’ When his answer was no, one of the men came over to Naama and slapped him. What saved him was the screwdriver he had in his glove compartment. He waved the screwdriver around and the group of men disappeared.

Bernadette Naama said she only misses her friends in Lebanon—not the country itself. “If there is worse than hell, we can compare it to that,” she said.

Campbell said the Lebanese government does not recognize any refugees other than those from Palestine. Lebanon, she said, does not regard the 1951 Refugee Convention, which was put in place by the United Nations to protect refugees worldwide. The U.S. is one of the 147 countries the United Nations Refugee Agency lists as compliant to the guidelines set up by the 1951 convention.

Campbell said the U.S. resettles a maximum of 70,000 to 80,000 refugees each year—a number more than all other countries combined. She said Australia and Canada had the next largest numbers, resettling about 15,000 refugees worldwide. European countries, she said, had the smallest numbers, resettling between 30 and 2,500 refugees annually.

Silverman said Iraqi refugees were the most recent to come to the U.S. and that he didn’t expect them to stop coming any time soon. “I expect Iraqi refugees to be coming for the next 20 years,” said Silverman. He mentioned that it took 25 years for Vietnamese and Bosnian refugees to go back to their countries.

What often anchors refugees to the U.S., said Silverman, is having children.

Bernadette Naama said she hopes to have children someday, but right now they are focused on saving enough money to move to a different apartment and escape their noisy neighbors—who are often heard partying through the apartment’s unforgiving thin walls.

Naama said he hopes the move will happen within the next few months. He wants to get a car and move to either Des Plaines or Skokie.

He said coming to America had been his dream ever since he was about 15 years old and saw America for the first time on TV. “I love America,” he said.

Another thing he loves is soccer. Every month or so, Naama and a few other Iraqis play soccer on the street corner. His favorite soccer team is from Barcelona. He rarely misses a game on TV and looks up team scores online.

“That’s his addiction—Barcelona,” said Bernadette Naama, laughing.

“I love Barcelona,” said Naama. “My wife and then Barcelona.”

No one would assume that Mabouc was separated from his family when he was five years old in Sudan as people were dying all around him, or that he spent three years walking from war-torn Ethiopia to Kenya or that he was educated in a refugee camp, but that is how this well-dressed man spent his formative years.

Quiet, calm and slightly reserved, the handsome, dark-skinned Mabouc was very composed as he talked about the long journey that led him to Chicago.

Running for their lives

He was playing in a field with other kids from the Sudanese village of Kongor when his life was forever changed. Sudan has been ravaged by civil war more than once, and as Mabouc played with other village children, the war exploded into his life and separated his family. Tanks rolled into the area as shots were fired randomly and homes were set on fire.

“People were running in different directions,” Mabouc said. “Some of the children like myself were out playing in the field. We ran away from the fights in another direction.”

That group of people would keep running — running for safety, running for their lives. “We walked for several months,” Mabouc said, before the group ended up in a refugee camp in Ethiopia.

“In the camps, a lot of people had no parents,” including Mabouc. “We were put in groups,” he said. “Kids whose parents were unaccounted for were taken care of by the U.N. We were in camp for three years until war broke out in Ethiopia. We [then] walked for three years to Kenya.”

Mabouc said the group walked mostly at night, often setting up day camps in the forest, hiding for their own safety, as the various military groups who destroyed their village and many others would look for people in the daylight. Not everyone survived the long and treacherous journeys to Ethiopia and Kenya.

“Food was whatever we could find… leaves, anything,” said Mabouc. When asked about the availability of water, he said there was “not very much. If there were no rivers around, people would go without or drink whatever we could find… ponds, rain.”

Mabouc and the survivors among his group eventually arrived in northern Kenya, at a United Nations refugee camp in Kakuma. Mabouc said supplies were nearly always low, as the camp was built for a limited number of people, but continually received an influx of refugees, from Rwanda, the Congo and Somalia, as well as other refugees who had been forced to flee from Sudan.

Mabouc spent more than a decade in the camp. He said the camps had schooling set up for kids in kindergarten through high school. While Mabouc was educated in the camp, he got the chance to participate in drama.

“We did a bunch of plays,” he said. “We had professional writers who would write stuff, and we would perform them. We participated in national competitions in Kenyan schools.”

In the camp Mabouc learned English, which is taught in Kenyan schools. His native language is Dinka.

Throughout the long journeys to Ethiopia and then Kenya, and for much of his childhood, Mabouc did not know what happened to his family or even if they were alive. He left his parents and two older siblings behind when his village was raided.

Finally, in 1996, still not yet a teenager, Mabouc learned of their whereabouts. His family ended up in a camp in northern Uganda. The Red Cross had a system in which representatives went from camp to camp in an attempt to document the location of refugees in order to reunite families. Though he was not able to rejoin his family, Mabouc was able to see pictures of them.

Mabouc had some contacts with uncles and cousins who had been together since their arrival in Ethiopia, but through the efforts of the Red Cross, he learned that he now had four younger siblings. For the most part, the refugees in the camps and the people who had made the journey from Sudan to Kenya had become Mabouc’s family.

“I was able to connect with some family members… uncles and cousins. But mostly [it was] the guys. We were together since Ethiopian camp… we were together; we got to know each other. We were the family,” Mabouc said.

Brought to America, receiving little government help

In 2001 as part of a special program set up by the United Nations and the U.S. State Department, Mabouc was brought to America. He was 17 years old when he arrived in Syracuse, N.Y., that August. The group of refugees was settled in various locations in the U.S. and Canada and became known as “The Lost Boys of Sudan.” The group has since been documented in books and films.

Through the program that brought Mabouc to the U.S., he was set up in an apartment in Syracuse for three months. After that, it was up to him to pay rent and support himself.

The refugees received very little government support. They were assisted by some case workers, volunteers and community organizations. Syracuse doesn’t have a strong public transit system, so refugees like Mabouc were very dependent on the community organizations for rides to stores for groceries and basic supplies.

“Especially in the winter, it was very hard to get around,” Mabouc said. “I worked very hard to get my license,” which he received in 2002.

Mabouc’s struggles and the minimal amount of government support he received upon arriving in America are typical of what all refugees must deal with, though Mabouc at least knew English, something many refugees do not, according to Vanessa Parra, a spokeswoman for Refugees International.

“[Refugees] don’t have a lot of resources,” Parra said. “Each situation is very unique. It is very hard for people when they come here. It’s every kind of culture shock you can imagine.”

Mabouc was eventually able to speak with his mother on the telephone. At first, she didn’t believe it was really her son. He was also able to speak with his younger siblings for the first time.

“It’s very hard to establish that relationship on the phone with someone you’ve never met,” said Mabouc. “It’s hard to put your mind around a sibling you’ve never physically met.”

Moving to Chicago, making a difference

Mabouc moved to Bourbonnais, Ill., to study sociology at Olivet Nazarene University. Mabouc and other refugees face the same difficulties in paying for college as American citizens, including having to fill out the dreaded FAFSA financial aid application forms and relying upon student loans.

Mabouc later moved to Chicago, where he worked at the Pan-African Association. His job there was to help refugees and other immigrants from all parts of Africa.

Organizations such as this are essential to refugees, as government help is very limited in its scope. Assistance often comes from faith-based organizations, such as Catholic Charities, whose spokeswoman Kristin Ortman said creating self-sufficiency among refugees is their most important goal.

“I think the number-one issue is employment,” Ortman said. “Many times our staff and our many volunteers are able to offer job training and assistance in finding a job. So often [refugees] have many talents and job skills that they learned in their country. Our goal is to help them achieve self-sufficiency as soon as possible.”

Catholic Charities’ Refugee Resettlement Program helps refugees with basic life skills, such as learning how to navigate the public transportation system and how to operate basic equipment in their apartments. Their organization receives some government funding, but relies heavily on donations and the work of volunteers.

“I worked as a tutor for a family from Sudan, and they were very grateful to receive assistance from a local parish who found them and had taken them under their wing,” said Ortman.

Mabouc is still adjusting and settling into American life, living in Albany Park with two roommates who are also from Africa. His time at the Pan-African Association helped him meet people from all parts of the African continent.

Mabouc enjoys basketball and football, having attended a Notre Dame football game last fall and Chicago Bulls games in the past. He likes to play dominoes at home and listen to reggae music in Chicago bars and music venues. He recently started a new job for an organization that provides assistance to people in need in Chicago, though he asked that his new employer not be named, as he was unsure of their media policy.

Sowing the seeds of hope

Mabouc has had the opportunity to speak to various groups about his life’s journey. It was through a speaking engagement to a continuing education class of teachers studying genocide that he first met Oak Park teacher Karen Tokarz.

Moved by what she’d heard, Tokarz invited Mabouc to speak to students at Gwendolyn Brooks Middle School in Oak Park, where he made quite an impression on students and teachers alike.

“We were all in tears,” Tokarz said of hearing Mabouc’s stories. “Watching friends get eaten by crocodiles or having worms in your feet because you have no shoes… it’s heart-wrenching… it’s an unbelievable story of inspiration, an unbelievable story of survival.”

Tokarz said part of what amazes her about Mabouc is how he has coped with “not having the nurturing of [his] parents.” She noted that as the Lost Boys were re-settled in different cities all over America and Canada, “it was sort of an abandonment all over again.”

Though Mabouc said he “likes Chicago as a city,” he is no fan of winter weather. And despite his success at becoming self-sufficient in this country, Mabouc still thinks about going home and helping the people of his village.

He is volunteering his time with the Oak Park school district and working with Tokarz on her school’s “Exchange of Hope” program, in which students from Gwendolyn Brooks Middle School participate in a cultural exchange with sometimes impoverished or underprivileged students in other countries. They recently started a program in which the students will connect and share ideas with new friends in Southern Sudan.

Tokarz also said each of the ten schools in the Oak Park school district will be raising money to help Mabouc fly to meet his family in Uganda and then check out the conditions in his homeland in Southern Sudan. (Donations can be made to the Gwendolyn Brooks Middle School Service Learning Club.)

Mabouc hopes to raise awareness of the situation in Southern Sudan. The people in his home village have farmlands to return to, as property rights are ancestral-based and very important to the people of his region, but right now they lack the equipment and tools to work the land, leaving them financially unable to leave refugee camps and move back home.

“What I can really emphasize is to support the programs and to get to know the situation,” said Mabouc. “Any sort of small help can make a big difference. Getting a hoe or a rake to clear your land is a big deal and can save lives. People don’t have money to buy these things.”

In addition to the Exchange of Hope program, Mabouc is helping to develop a non-profit group called “Tools of Hope” to help families such as his be able to return to their homes and farm their land. He said he hopes Tools of Hope’s website will be live soon.

“He’s such a peaceful person,” Tokarz said of Mabouc. “He’s always just happy that he has another day. He’s not living with any kind of wealth. He’s dying to get back there and see his family and help Southern Sudan.”

For now Mabouc works hard at his new job, while dedicating what time he has to helping his native village. For the most part, he is too busy to dwell on the journey that brought him to Chicago, but he does recognize the struggles he has endured and survived.

“It’s tough, but I’m still alive. That’s the most important part.”

See also: Lost Boys of Sudan in Chicago, Exchange of Hope: Southern Sudan

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Four mornings a week Yasmin winds her way down Whipple Ave. to the Albany Park Community Center. The second floor classroom is a global village of 26 students from 13 countries. Class starts promptly at 8:30 a.m. The diverse tongues quiet down and the teacher steps from behind her desk to give the class its first assignment. “Talk about the time that you moved.”

Yasmin grips a yellow pencil and spreads her red Nikes wide across the floor. She drags her desk across the blue and gray tiles to sit by a classmate, a polite refugee from Afghanistan. The wall a few feet away is lined with the English alphabet. K stands for King, a reminder of the preacher who once spoke in Africa about justice’s triumph. Sunlight beams in from a window overlooking Kimball Ave.

Yasmin’s first memories are of Kakuma, a refugee camp in northwest Kenya. It’s about 600 miles west of the Somali capital of Mogadishu. Yasmin says the camp was violent.

Roaming gangs and ripping bullets might rule the night. “I don’t remember Mogadishu. I remember Kakuma,” Yasmin says.

Warring Clans ruled the Somali capital. “Mogadishu all of the time fighting. No peace,” Yasmin said. The past is heartbreaking, it’s “sad,” she added.

Yasmin came to the United States on April 5, 2007 at age 21. Four days later she enrolled in English class.

One journey ends another begins

When a voyaging refugee arrives in Illinois, they’ve prevailed through humankind’s darkest nights. For Yasmin, and more than 1,400 other Somalis, the land of Lincoln offers safe harbor from the storms of famine and violence.

As Yasmin prepares for the Midwestern winter, turmoil persists in east Africa. A September report by the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees says 530,000 Somalis are refugees, and another 1.5 million have been displaced from their homes. Public resources in the U.S. might be unimaginable to hundreds of thousand of African refugees, but Yasmin’s life will forever be linked to them, and to Somalia’s history that has forced millions to flee their homes.

Challenges

As coffee brews and break time approaches, teacher Lindsay Crammond paces between conversation groups. Yasmin understands how important education is, Crammond says. Yasmin’s life is a perseverance lesson. “This person spent 13 years in a refugee camp, you don’t learn job skills there. You learn life skills,” adds Crammond.

While the classroom is warm and welcoming, the U.S. economy is not. Like so many who have made it to the United States, Yasmin remains challenged by economic insecurity.

Yasmin met her husband in Africa, and they came to Chicago together. For Yasmin finding employment was challenging in her new country. “I looked for a job everywhere,” she said. Her husband found work pushing wheelchairs at O’Hare Airport. Trouble came when he lost his job.

The two decided to move. At one point she was in Minnesota looking for a job while he pursued meatpacking work in Nebraska. They talked on the phone but longed for each other. When Yasmin landed a part-time janitor’s job they reunited. “When I got this job I rent apartment so I told him to come back Chicago, and he come back, and he’s here right now,” she said.

“I am cleaning the offices,” said Yasmin, who has balanced work with school. She had to miss class once for work. Like a trustworthy friend, she came by class to let Crammond know the reason for her absence.

Many of her co-workers are Mexicans; she likes them, but wants more opportunities. She cooks at her apartment and finds sanctuary in study. “I want to write complete sentences,” she says.

She walks confidently through the school, wearing a brightly colored hijab, the traditional Muslim headdress. Occasionally she smiles, and in that expression a united and peaceful Somalia seems possible. “I think I will be a good writer; I think I will be able to speak English very good,” added Yasmin.

Fractured Somalia

David Shinn, former U.S. ambassador to Ethiopia, said Somalia had no central government. He said the country, located 200 miles south of Yemen, had a U.N.-backed temporary government controlling a tiny part of Mogadishu. Two other militant Islamic groups control a larger part of the country, he said.

Scant media attention makes it difficult to understand what is happening in the country. “The problem, of course, is it’s very difficult to get into Somalia right now,” says Shinn, an associate professor of international affairs at George Washington University.

Shinn said relief agencies consider Somalia the world’s greatest humanitarian crisis.

He said the U.S. greatly reduced its humanitarian assistance after 18 soldiers were killed in October 1993. The “Blackhawk Down” incident led Western governments to shift troops and resources away from Somalia.

War, drought and exile continued. Attention shifted back after 9/11, and particularly since the anti-western Islamic Courts Union came to power in 2006. A recent food shortage might have made the inhumane living conditions into the grossly inhumane.

Hope for peace

Each new refugee brings personal sadness and heartache to the U.S. But, they may find hope, just as Yasmin did when her anchor dropped in a Chicago English class.

“When I come here I didn’t speak English well. But now I’m better. I hope I will be better than this,” said Mohamed.

The refugee who now has friends near the shores of Lake Michigan said, “I would like to go back someday and see my people.”

She hopes to see her homeland.

“If it’s peaceful.”

MORE ON THE BROADER REFUGEE EXPERIENCE

What it means to be a refugee

By Christopher Pratt

Pirates and warlords don’t rule in the U.S. but money matters in a big way. One refugee challenge is paying rent with a relatively meager sum they typically get from the government. “Refugee cash assistance is $243. And that refugee is facing $550 to $650 rent,” said Ed Silverman, the state’s refugee coordinator.

Last year the non-profit community in Illinois raised $1 million to ensure adequate services for refugees, said Silverman. Funding refugee resettlement is a constant challenge, but particularly in this recession, he added. Support from organizations like World Relief is important to the resettlement process, and their staff work is critical.

Silverman said more than 50,000 African refugees live in Illinois.

Most U.S. refugees depend on public aid to resettle. The Refugee Act of 1980 directs the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services to work with non-profits and states to resettle refugees — people that the U.N. says have well-founded fears of persecution in their homeland.

Silverman began working in refugee assistance more than 30 years ago. “We are in a global community. People have a right to earn a living and provide adequate education for their children,” said Silverman.

The 1980 law was one of the late Sen. Edward M. Kennedy’s legislative accomplishments, added Silverman. Kennedy once said the country had a humanitarian- and a foreign policy-interest in welcoming refugees. In 1981 over 150,000 refugees resettled in the U.S. By 2006 it was just 42,000. The refugee law allowed the president to determine, on an annual basis, how many refugees could immigrate, and left Congress to decide how to fund the program. In recent years the refugee ceiling rose but funding decreased.

Okanovic, now 21, is a University of Illinois at Chicago student studying psychology. Her experiences in Bosnia and beyond have shaped her in ways many students her age could not imagine.

“When the soldiers came, we went into my friend’s basement,” she said.  “I remember hearing a bunch of shots. My mom took my hand and said, ‘if someone approaches you just pretend you are really scared. Do not say a word.’ This is how my mom passed us off as the other side.”

Okanovic was born in 1988 and grew up in Velika Kladusa, a town in Bosnia by Croatia, only a few years before the Serbian and Bosnian war broke out in 1991.

According to her, the Serbian government’s goal was to keep Yugoslavia together in one country. However, the individual countries wanted out. Slovenia was the first country to declare independence followed by Croatia. Serbia, Kosovo, and Bosnia were the only countries left.

“Serbia was already mad that these countries broke off,” she said. “It is really hard to distinguish who is Serbian, Croatian, or Bosnian because we lived in one country. The only way they could differentiate between the three was through religion. If you were Catholic you were considered Croatian, or if you were Orthodox Christian you were Serbian. If you were Muslim you were Bosnian.”

Tensions only escalated, however, when Bosnia attempted its break from Serbia.

“Serbia said, ‘If they don’t want to be with us why don’t we just wipe them all out’,” she said. “That’s when they did a whole genocide against Muslims and Catholics.”

Velika Kladusa went untouched while the war intensified, but residents knew it would not be long before troops made their way in.

“We knew Serbia was going to come in and kill us,” she said. “Our leader said, ‘Don’t touch my people, we’re going to help you in return.’ My town was known for betraying its own country because of that.”

This deal stated people from Velika Kladusa would join the Serbian forces and fight against Bosnia, and in return Serbia would not touch them.

When the larger war with Serbia ended, the rest of Bosnia declared a mini-war on her home town, and this is when her war experience truly began.

At the age of five, she remembers staying at a friend’s house where they heard troops were approaching to attack the city.

“There was a whole fleet of people running toward Croatia,” she said. “I remember holding onto my mom’s hand while all around us were grenades and gun fire.”

While running toward the refugee camp, she saw a man on a white horse who was shot through the chest and collapsed onto the ground.

“I was five at the time,” Okanovic said. “I didn’t have the mental capacity to comprehend the danger of it.”

She and her mother, Mina Okanovic, arrived safely to the refugee camp, which she described as a row of chicken coops, and stayed there while her father, Esad Okanovic, and uncle, Asko Okanovic, fought in the war. The conditions in the camp were unsanitary and overcrowded.

“All these people were piled in there,” she said. “There was a forest where everyone used the bathroom, and when you changed someone had to hold a blanket in front of you.”

After four months, the refugees heard Velika Kladusa was safe, so Naida Okanovic and her mother went back to their unrecognizable neighborhood.

“Houses were blown up, windows were shattered, and gunshot holes were in every building,” she said. “It was a complete disaster.”

They were far from safe, however, because the troops came back to Velika Kladusa. She said the town started running toward Croatia again, but her mother stopped at the border and told her she was not going to run away from home any more. Mina Okanovic was able to pass them off to soldiers as the other side by bluffing names.

“Could you imagine that,” Naida Okanovic said. “A woman in a country where women are seen as powerless taking her daughter and walking through a burning town. That’s when I saw who my mom truly was.”

Mina Okanovic said this was one of the scariest moments of her life.

“Sometimes you have to do certain things no matter how scary they are in order to survive,” she said. “I kept thinking I needed to keep a brave face on.”

Asko Okanovic on the other hand, who stayed at the refugee camp, was given a visa to come to America and eventually sent application papers to the Okanovics.

They came to America in June 1996 and stayed near Kenmore and Thorndale on Chicago’s North Side.  They received food stamps and welfare for the first three months and were also enrolled in English speaking classes.

“It was hard [moving] because Bosnia was all I ever knew,” Esad Okanovic said. “I had to leave behind the soil of my ancestors to come to a different country where I would forever be a foreigner.”

The most memorable part of immigrating for Naida Okanovic was when she started school, which would foreshadow her future academic successes.

“I didn’t know a word of English,” she said. “On the first day the teacher handed out a worksheet with math problems. Because I was forced to be ahead by my mom because she wasn’t sure when schools would be open, I was the first to finish and to get a 100 percent. That’s how I fell in love with math.”

When she was in fourth grade she met her current best friend Amanda Pilipovic, 21, a student at Northeastern Illinois University, who previously lived 10 minutes outside Velika Kladusa.

“If we stayed in Bosnia we would have gone to the same high school,” Pilipovic said. “She came here before me, so she knew English better, and she would help me out.”

Like the Okanovics and other Bosnian families, education was a big factor for moving to America Pilipovic said.

“My parents are all about school,” Pilipovic said. “If you don’t finish school you’re going to work at McDonalds. That’s what I hear every day. It’s a guilt thing. We came all this way just for you, so don’t let us down.”

“I want to stay in this country,” said Padilla. “Everything is here – my family, school, everything.  I don’t know anyone in Mexico.”

Padilla’s troubles started last January when he was arrested for drinking and driving.  When police discovered his immigration status, they turned him over to ICE. Since then immigration reform advocates, teachers, friends and public officials have rallied to solve Padilla’s plight.

“This highlights the mean-spiritedness of the immigration situation,” said Ald. Cardenas. He called for an end to the impasse on immigration reform in Washington.

“Rigoberto is a straight “A” student; he’s working full time – this is someone I would want fighting alongside me in a war,” Cardenas said.

Sen. Durbin’s bill now has 32 co-sponsors and is currently in the Judiciary committee.  It would require that promising individuals who inherited their undocumented status from their parents attend college for two years, or serve in the military.  After that commitment, the individual could complete the long process of becoming a citizen, but in the meantime they would not live in fear of being deported.

Critics of immigration reform want federal officials to enforce existing laws and call exceptions like the one being asked in Padilla’s case a slippery slope that opens the door for tens-of-thousands of people in this country illegally.

“This world is full of exceptions,” Cardenas said.  “This is no different.”

Padilla’s professor and mentor at UIC, Nilda Flores-Gonzalez, said it made no sense for the U.S. to deport students like Padilla because so many taxpayer dollars were spent educating him in the public schools.

“We have invested a lot in him.  We should cash in,” said Flores-Gonzalez.

Padilla does not know what he will do if the deportation happens and he is forced to return to Mexico.  He left Mexico 15 years ago when he was six. He said he does not have any family there anymore, and he would have no place to stay.

“I guess I would arrive in Mexico with my bags in my hand and walk around, not knowing what to do, or where to go,” said Padilla.

He has 28 days to figure it out.

Cardenas said he would send the resolution to members of the Illinois delegation in Washington D.C.  and the White House.

The only alderman to vote against today’s resolution was Ald. James Balcer (11th). He said he voted against the resolution for one reason only – the drunk driving ticket.

“My vote had nothing to do with immigration. It was the drunk driving. I was hit by a car as a kid and I have strong feelings about this,” Balcer said.

(The following is a YouTube video of a protest on the ICE lockup in Broadview from June 19, 2008.)

Photo: Eric Young Smith The Pilsen neighborhood, home to Chicago's Mexican culture, is the site of two new affordable apartment buildings.

Two new affordable apartment buildings are benefiting Pilsen residents in two ways: they’re providing residents with high-quality, low-cost housing, and they’re occupying vacant industrial sites that had become neighborhood eyesores.

The recently completed 45-unit Casa Morelos Apartments – one of the two resident buildings – sits on previously vacant land at 2015 S. Morgan St. that, in addition to contributing nothing in the way of taxes or services, had become a source of blight.

“It had been vacant for years before we bought it, and people began to just dump all kinds of junk there,” said Guacolda Reyes, director of community development at NCP lead agency The Resurrection Project, the non-profit developer that built the apartment building.

In April 2006, TRP purchased the plot of a little more than two acres from Alivio Medical Center, which operates a clinic at 21st and Morgan streets, within blighted industrial land that dots several blocks around the medical center and Casa Morelos.

“All of this vacant land was gray and dusty, under-used, under-everything,” said Teresa Fraga, a medical center board member.  The center, a key NCP partner agency, sold TRP’s development site for a less-than-market-rate price, Fraga said.

The seven-story Casa Morelos, completed earlier this summer, has begun leasing its one- to three-bedroom apartments, with 552 square feet to 1,116 square feet of space.  The apartments will be fully occupied by fall, Reyes said.

Under terms of the developer’s agreement with Illinois Housing Development Authority, which provided the project’s low-income-housing tax credits, most of the apartments will command affordable rents that begin at $530. Four of the apartments will be leased at market-rates from $800 to $1,050, Reyes said, and another four apartments will be leased to Section 8 voucher tenants.

A second, 73-unit building
On that same two-acre site, and directly south of the new apartment building, at 2021 S. Morgan St., TRP this spring started construction of the 73-unit Casa Maravilla.

Photo: Eric Young Smith Casa Morelos Apartments, a new building at 2015 S. Morgan St. in Pilsen, offers low-cost rental units. It displaces a former industrial site that had become a neighborhood eyesore.

That $20 million, five-story building, designed by Weese Langley Weese, will be completed by spring 2010, said Reyes. While senior buildings constructed throughout the city in recent years have tended to consist of fairly small, studio-sized apartments, Casa Maravilla will include 13 two-bedroom units.

“We want to accommodate our Latino housing needs and lifestyles,” Reyes said.  “These apartments are big enough so that seniors who want to share their apartment with a sister, a brother or a friend can do so.”

In addition to the two-bedroom units, Casa Maravilla will have a mix of studio and one-bedroom apartments. All will range from 700 to 1,100 square feet of space. Built under Chicago Green Homes program guidelines, the senior building will have several green elements, including a green roof and permeable pavement.

Income-based rents for tenants who are at least 55 years old and who earn 60 percent down to 30 percent of the Chicago area median income, will range from $350 to $550 for studios; $600 to $800 for one-bedroom apartments; and $750 to $900 for two-bedroom units.

Casa Maravilla has received up to $4 million in HOME loan funds from the City of Chicago. A combination of $800,000 in city low income housing tax credits and $883,342 in Illinois Housing Development Authority low income housing tax credits will generate an estimated $13.2 million in equity for the project, according to officials from the city’s Community Development Department.

National Equity Fund Inc. is tax credit syndicator for the project, which also received $108,400 in investment donated tax credits.

The senior building’s location next door to Alivio Medical Center is a big plus, said Reyes.  A Chicago Department of Senior Services satellite center will operate from the ground floor. Other amenities will include a large ground floor community space and a fitness center.

Finding appropriate new use for unused industrial lots – a rare opportunity to modernize segments of the long established Pilsen neighborhood where vast land tracts are rarely available for larger developments – has brought several factions of the Pilsen neighborhood together.

TRP, long involved in building affordable housing and providing social services, now works with block clubs and community groups such as Fraga’s Pilsen Neighbors Community Council. All of those factions came together through NCP about three years ago, said Fraga, and the community’s resulting quality-of-life plan articulates several goals for the neighborhood, including how to re-use those former industrial properties.

El Paseo on the way
Not the least of those plans is the eventual conversion of the unused rail tracks along Sangamon Street, between Cermak Road and 16th Street, into the north/south landscaped pedestrian corridor to be called El Paseo. Since rail cars years ago stopped serving industrial users in the area, the land around them has been threatened with blight.

Photo: David Pintor Dignitaries cut the ribbon at Casa Morelos' grand opening earlier ths summer.

El Paseo is modeled after the Mexican paseos found in so many Mexican villages – town squares where residents come to meet. TRP, Pilsen Neighbors and community leaders are now working with city officials to gain control of the rail company-owned tracks, said a spokesman from Alderman Daniel Solis’ 25th ward office.

The city, which is negotiating a use agreement with the rail track owner, already owns land to the east and west of the tracks which is slated for use as part of the El Paseo corridor, Fraga said.  Once completed, Alivio and TRP expect to share management of the paseo. In roughly five years Fraga hopes El Paseo will attract all the social factions that are today’s Pilsen.

“Historically we have had differences,” she said. “The art district on Halsted Street differed with the families who live in West Pilsen. But we are changing that and, when the Paseo is there, we will all gather as one neighborhood and all those differences won’t matter.”

At a Latino prayer breakfast last month, President Obama said he was dedicated to passing a new immigration plan during his administration, but some believe  it will be hard to muster enough support to change current immigration law.

“There’s been a lot of problems with the immigration reform,” said Israel Vargas, the head of Pilsen’s San Jose Obrero Mission. “It needs to [be changed] as soon as possible.”

The current laws and recent negative attention on the illegal immigrant community have made it more difficult for non-profit organizations to assist the country’s most marginalized inhabitants, according to Vargas.

There’s nothing you can do,” said Vargas in reference to undocumented Americans. “You cannot use any government money to assist this population.”

Vargas’ organization is an interim housing mission that focuses specifically on the Latino community, a demographic that makes up 93.5 percent of Pilsen’s population of 113,000. More than one-third of undocumented immigrants in the nation come from Mexico and Central and South America.

“I think that it is important to reform the law right now,” Louis Rodriguez of the Instituto Del Progresso Latino said. “Any delay in reform is bad for a lot of people and bad for the economy…it is important for the economy to get all of these people on the right track.”

Vargas agreed that incorporating undocumented immigrants would be good for the struggling U.S. economy. “Right now the country is missing out on a lot of income tax,” he said.

The Instituto Del Progreso Latino, also centered in Pilsen, works at educating and employing the Latino community.  Its executive director, Juan Salgado, also serves as the board president for the Illinois Coalition for Immigration and Refugee Rights.

The coalition is an organization dedicated to immigration reform, its Web site calls for Illinois lawmakers and citizens to “reject the politics of hate” in regards to anti-immigrant sentiment and policy.

Vargas said that the best plan for immigration reform would be one where the people already in the U.S. receive work visa’s immediately, so that they can work and pay taxes. And then are subject to a background check and a five year wait for citizenship, saying that five years would be ample time to “decide if this was someone we want in our country.”

“We must never forget that time and again, the promise of America has been renewed by immigrants who make their story part of the American story. We see it in every state of our country. We see it in our families and in our neighborhoods,” President Obama said at the prayer breakfast in Washington D.C. But he outlined a plan that would require those who came here illegally “to pay a penalty and pay taxes…and go to the back of the line behind those who played by the rules.”

According to a study commissioned by Americans for Immigration Reform, there are 8.1 million undocumented workers employed in the United States. The same study concluded that undocumented immigrants “pay far more in overall taxes than they receive in benefits from various governments.”

The Minutemen Midwest, located in Harvard, Ill. has called for tougher border enforcement, and on their Web site it states that President Obama’s proposed reform would be amnesty for lawbreakers. They did not return phone calls seeking comment.

Rosa Vamorra, a communications associate at the Instituto in Pilsen, said she believed that everyone who worked with the group “would like to see the policy [on illegal immigration] changed quickly” to give citizenship to all immigrants. She said that immigration reform was a key focus of the Instituto.

“It’s frustrating for our youth especially,” Vamorra said of the current laws. “When you are raised in America, you’re taught you can do whatever you want, that you can be whoever you want to be. But, you know, we understand that is not the case for some kids. They can do their best and they can try really hard, but then there are these barriers and limitations that are going to prevent them from being all that they really can be.”

Quick passage of a new immigration bill has been derailed on Capitol Hill where House Democrats say they do not have enough votes to pass a reform bill.

Barriers for undocumented immigrants can make his organization’s goal of finding a job and housing for their clients within 90 days nearly impossible, according to Vargas. Because of pressures from the government, less businesses are willing to hire illegal immigrants.

“As an agency we see what the participants go through that don’t have documentation,” Vargas said. “They should at least be given the opportunity to…work.”

Part Three: ChicagoTalks’ urban affairs series

May 28, 2009 – It was a regular day in Summar Othman’s English class as students waited  to present their research papers.  Othman, a devout Muslim and DePaul University student, was still getting used to her new school.  One of the few students on the campus to wear a traditional Muslim head scarf known as a hijab, she felt awkward and alone when a student raised his hand and proclaimed that his research findings proved that Islam was the only religion that accepted prostitution.

“I felt a bit scared,” Othman recalled of that defining moment during her freshman year.  “I didn’t want to raise my hand and be ‘that Muslim kid’, but I also wanted to clear up the misconception.”

Othman did end up raising her hand that day, and was glad she did.   She explained the misconception and pointed out how her classmate’s sources taken from the internet were not very credible.  The moment left Othman with a sense of comfort, and she was surprised to find that other students had a positive reaction.

This wasn’t the first time Othman has felt these feelings of isolation.   Stepping onto a Catholic University’s campus after spending all of her academic life in schools that she said were “100 percent Muslim,” Othman was surprised to find herself being the minority for the first time in her life.

There’s evidence that students like Othman with religious convictions different from the majority of Americans have a reason for concern.

The DePaul Conservative Alliance, a student organization that promotes conservative values, held  Terrorism Awareness Week at DePaul.  The event was formerly known as Islamabad Fascist Week.  Othman said she felt it was a direct target for Muslim students.  Othman said the group has a history of trouble with other student groups making it  necessary for the group to hire security at some events.

“It was some of the worst discrimination I’ve seen in my entire life,” said Othman.

The event included lectures that linked Islam directly to 9/11, and a description of Jihad that Othman said was both wrong and played off of a media frenzy.  There was also a screening of the film Obsession , which according to Othman negatively depicts Muslims by focusing entirely on extremists.

“One percent of us doesn’t speak for the religion of millions of people,” she said.  “I was really glad I was there to [comment] about Islam.”

“A lot of misconceptions have been created about Muslims from the media,” Othman said.  “[The media] associate us with the extremists and caused stereotypes of us and the faith to emerge. “

Othman feels that those misconceptions have set the stage for public discrimination against her faith as well as others.

Discrimination on the basis of religion isn’t limited to students at campuses in Chicago.  The city’s Commission on Human Relations reported that in 2008 nearly 13 of the 72 hate crimes were based on religion.  Late last year, a Molotov cocktail was thrown at one of Chicago’s oldest temples, Temple Shalom, at 3480 N. Lakeshore Dr.

Luckily for students like Othman, there are student groups at colleges and universities in Chicago that serve as meeting grounds for those wanting to express and discuss their beliefs with other members of their faiths,  giving them a sense of community and shelter from outside criticism.

Othman is the Vice President of United Muslims Moving Ahead (UMMA), a DePaul student group that allows Muslims and others to participate in the practices of Islam.  UMMA also works with an interfaith initiative aimed at talking and helping with other faith-based student groups at the university.  Within their own organization, the group organizes meetings, hosts movie screenings, holiday parties, dinners, prayer services and lessons on everything from charity to the life of the profet Muhammad.

“Muslims on campus need a space where they can talk about religion and have someone to turn to with matters and questions of faith,” Othman explained.  “We aim to break down barriers and misconceptions.”

Ty Turley, a student at the University of Chicago and president of the Later Day Saint Student Association, is another local college student who has felt faith-based discrimination.  Unlike Othman, his feeling doesn’t stem from the attacks of other student organizations.  He said everyone at his college has been very respectful about his religion.

“I feel as if students here are more intellectual,” Turley said.  “We discuss and debate [aspects of LDS faith], but people [at the University] are thoughtful.”

However, “media portrayal, especially over the last year, hasn’t been that fair,” Turley said.  “Personally, I felt discontent and ill treated, and that some (news) stories seem anti-Mormon.”

Turley said his views were the result of allegations that former presidential candidate Mitt Romney, a Mormon, would be upholding Mormon ideology and using it to influence U.S. policy and lifestyles, and that he would also be upholding a Mormon prophecy.

Also seen as unfair by Turley were actions and protests against  Mormons after the LDS support for California’s Proposition 8 and other efforts around the country to ban same sex marriages.  Turley said the student LDS  gives him a type of community not easily found around the country.

It’s an experience Othman shares at DePaul.

“Muslims on campus need a space where they can talk about their religion,” she said.  “They need a group so they have people like them to talk about it with.”

Part Two: ChicagoTalks’ urban affairs series

May 27, 2009 – Seventeen years is the average amount of time it takes for an immigrant to legally come and live in the United States. For some, it’s 17 years too long.

Louis, who didn’t want his last name revealed because of an expired green card, came to the states 14 years ago with his brother Mark from Manila in the Philippines. When he arrived at O’Hare Airport, the first person to see him was his father.  Louis, then 17, hadn’t seen his father in ten years and didn’t know whether to shake his hand or hug him.

“We had been separated for so long and I didn’t know how to say hello to him,” Louis said. “It took us about a couple years to get to know who our father is.”

Louis, now 31, lived with his father while becoming acclimated to life in America. Louis’ mother stayed in the Philippines because his parents had briefly separated at the time. Today, both of his parents are once again together living in a Chicago suburb. He recalled that he and his father formed a better adult-to-adult relationship once he finished college at the Illinois Institute of Art in Chicago.

Some families, like Louis and his brother, get the luxuries and joys of reuniting with their loved ones. But others may not be as fortunate. Many apply to become citizens. And yet many still wait.

“The 17 years to wait is just too long,” Louis said. “Distance with your family is tragic. These are lost years which, hopefully, you can get back once you are settled here.”

Illinois has the eighth highest illegal immigrant population in the country. The 2000 U.S. Census revealed there were nearly 30,000 Filipinos living in Chicago.

Many Filipinos come to the states as tourists, migrant workers and as students. But once their visas expire, it’s time to return home. Those who stay,  are here illegally. Many of them hide from the Immigration and Naturalization Services and become T.N.T., a Filipino term that means “in the hiding.”  According to Jerry Clarito, founder and executive director of the Alliance of Filipinos for Immigrant Rights and Empowerment (AFIRE), over 280,000 undocumented Filipinos are living in the U.S. today.

The issue of immigration reform is one of the biggest obstacles facing many immigrants. Anna Guevarra, an assistant professor of sociology and gender and women’s studies at the University of Illinois at Chicago, said that now is the right time to push for reform legislation.

“We have a good administration but we really need to push for the Dream Act and get the students who are really committed but who don’t really have the path to do that,” she said. “There are a lot of undocumented Filipinos that are here to work, as are many immigrants. So if they are given the resources and the pathway to citizenship and permanent residency they can really do the work they want to do and contribute to our economy.”

The Development, Relief, and Education for Alien Minors Act (DREAM) is legislation reintroduced in congress by Sen. Richard Durbin (D-Ill.) and others.  It would help children who were brought into this country as undocumented immigrants. The act would give these children every opportunity and right to a higher education. Students would also be given in-state tuition.

Leo, who did not want his real name used, immigrated to the states with his parents and his sister over three years ago. So far, they say they have lived good lives, have gone to school and made plenty of friends in the process. Leo’s sister Amanda, 21, finished nursing school and is currently working as a nurse on the North Side of Chicago. But Amanda could no longer be a dependent under her mother’s working visa once she turned 21. This also prevents her from renewing an Illinois Driver’s License.

Amanda, who also asked to have her name changed, could now face possible deportation because she is out of status. Right now her options are to go back to school on a student visa, get married or go back home to her native hometown Cebu, in the Philippines’ Visayas province.

Like Amanda, Leo could be facing possible deportation. At 19, Leo is still considered underage and a dependent covered by his mother’s working visa until it expires next year. As a student, Leo and his family didn’t want to apply for a student visa because tuition rates for international students are about six times higher than native students, he said.

“It’s so expensive to be an international student,” he said. “That’s one of the reasons why I didn’t want one. Also students with student visas have to go back home once they finish school. That’s not what I want to do. I love it here.”

Like his sister, Leo has limited ways of staying here. For him, it’s marriage, military or deportation. “I am willing to do anything and everything to stay here,” he said. “I love life here in Chicago. I love the people, the diversity.”

AFIRE executive director Clarito is the son of Filipino immigrants.  He recalled his own immigration experience.

“At that time, my father was already a U.S. citizen,” he said. “So I came here as a legal permanent resident until I became a U.S. citizen. So I know the experiences of people waiting from the Philippines to be connected with their family. That is one of the reasons we are fighting for a change in legislation because there is about 17 years of waiting for families to get together.”

Part of AFIRE’s mission is to build the capacity of Filipino Americans community to defend constructive social change through popular education, Clarito said.

AFIRE Chicago is about immigration and their goal is to work for the reform of the immigrant Filipino community. Many of the undocumented workers in the U.S. have been waiting for a long time. AFIRE Chicago aims to protect immigrant rights as working people.

Guevarra said that many Filipinos who do come to the states end up working in jobs for which they are overqualified. In other words, she believes that many Filipinos are underemployed.

“So many of them are being funneled into low wage jobs because that is the only opportunity being given to them,” Guevarra said. “And many of them are highly skilled professionals who are teachers, doctors and nurses.  However, because they are out of status they’re not able to tap into their skills.”

Circa-Pintig, a Filipino cultural theater group in Chicago has been highly involved in immigration rights among Filipino Americans in the community. Circa, which stands for Center for Immigrant Resources and Community Arts, gives immigrants the opportunity to be here according to membership director Levi Aliposa.

“We use the arts as a powerful tool reflecting the collective experiences, struggles and dreams of immigrant communities in America. Immigrants need to know how to feel safe so they can come out of the shadows.”

Louis, who is also a member of Circa-Pintig, said that the group only has a few American-born members. Most are first generation. The group has also put together a number of plays that dealt with immigration issues.

“There are a lot of stories within our own membership,” he said. “The immigration issue is something present with us.”

When discussing the views on the U.S. immigration issue, Clarito likens them to Matthew 15:40, a Bible parable about the sheep and the goats. The verse reads, ‘When I was thirsty, you gave me drink, when I was hungry, you fed me.’

“Jesus says, ‘whatever you do to the least of my brethren, you do unto me,’” Clarito said. “That is the connection of the parables in the Bible. We usually don’t think of the undocumented or the people who are oppressed. Jesus says that you have to do something for them.”

“We need to show the immigrants who come here to not be afraid,” said Clarito. “They are righteous people. The earth does not belong to us, it belongs to God.”