And all they will call you will be deportee

I had a customer in the book shop yesterday, who started off speaking California Spanish, but switched to English.  He reads English much better than Spanish, having been raised in gringolandia, a little bit lost in Mexico.  He’s been sort of stuck working in resort areas, not having the professional education to have anything to offer employers other than English proficiency, but bright enough to have a life, even if it isn’t the one he chose.  I’ve met a lot of people like “George” (and he didn’t introduce himself as “Jorge”, nor am I sure he doesn’t have an Anglo name) — born in Mexico but culturally more or less gringo.  He has enough of the Mexican to get by, but there are others less able to adjust.

Elizabeth Zavala a brave reporter for writing on another “reluctant returnee” whose personal story would tax the literary abilities of  Franz Kafka.  Zavala’s short article in yesterday’s Fort Worth Star-Telegram is an interview with the sister of  Robin Whitley, “a man without a country” thanks to a narrowly legalistic reading of U.S. immigration law.  I sent an e-mail to Ms. Zavala this morning, questioning her description of Robin Whitley’s present life in Reyonsa as that of an “undocumented immigrant.”   Undocumented, yes… an immigrant… probably not in Mexico.  Though it’s hard to tell.

Zavala leads off her story:

Lorrie Whiteley McMillan is spending another holiday season without her brother Robin Whiteley. She is praying that the family’s immigration nightmare will end soon and that Whiteley can come home to Texas — the only home he knows. McMillan, 43, was 8 when her parents brought home the baby they named Robin. Now, because of missteps the parents made in the complicated international adoption process — and bad decisions on his part — Whiteley, 35, has been deported to Mexico. “He is not an undocumented immigrant,” McMillan said. “He did not falsify any documents. He didn’t sneak over here. He is an American.” Her brother is a man without a country.

Robin was — although there is no proof one way or the other — delivered by a midwife in Mexico and adopted in Texas.  A “typical American” — even in south Texas —  he never learned any language other than English, and has no knowledge of, nor experience with, the cultures of other countries.  And — typically Texan — Robin Whitley managed to commit one of the 2,383 separate felonies on the books in the State of Texas — which means… with no proof that he IS a citizen, his deportation was automatic…  to a country where he may or may not be a citizen.  But there’s no proof of that either.

As Zavala reported, a large part of the problem is with a nearly unknown glitch in adoption law.  She quotes an attorney specializing in adoption law, who says “Texas adoption will establish that you are the parent, but not that the child is a citizen… The adoption decree does not establish citizenship [but only] the legal parent-child relationship.”

Even if Whitley was a legal resident, but not a U.S. citizen, he might have been “deported” anyway, given two other weird glitches in U.S. immigration law.  His conviction was a narcotics offense of some kind.  If it was an “aggravated felony” — one that would be a felony under federal, as well as state, law he would also have been deported:  or so the United States Supreme Court ruled in 2006 (Lopez v Gonzales).

I may get some comments from the usual “legalize it” crowd, but this is an immigration, not a narcotics user issue.  (As it is, a large portion of the statistical rise in narcotics use in Mexico, which is used to justify continuing the “drug war”,  is among those who acquired addictions in the United States.) That hasn’t stopped deportations for persons convicted of less serious criminal offenses — brown, Spanish speaking ones anyway.

Adding to the confusion of Texas adoption law is the problem with birth certification.  In south Texas, this has been a problem.  Home deliveries or midwife deliveries are fairly common, especially in rural areas, and weren’t always properly recorded, and there were a number of false certificates issued at one time — leading to the assumption that those without birth certificate were probably born in Mexico.

Mexico also has a problem with unrecorded births.  Lack of a birth certificate can prevent kids from getting enrolled in school, or — at 18, registering to vote.  Voter registration cards are used like drivers’ licenses in the U.S., as one’s basic identity card, and — without identification of some kind, based on your birth certificate, it’s not just a matter of not being able to rent a video, but of not being able to apply for a job, or open a bank account.

Lacking a birth certificate, not speaking the language, not even being sure one is in the right country… ahi, es un problema.