The Middletown Press (Middletown, CT)
Fair Haven reflects
Residents support immigrant who took sanctuary at church
NEW HAVEN » The sidewalk, parking lot and patchy incline area outside Iglesia de Dios Pentecostal church appeared vacant on a recent afternoon.
The overcast sky and empty streets crafted a scene far removed from the day the area had been brimming with people ready to rally on behalf of Nury Chavarria, a Norwalk mother of four. Chavarria had taken up sanctuary at the church the previous week to avoid deportation to Guatemala.
The rally never really happened. Instead, a celebration sprung for Chavarria after she was granted an emergency stay from her removal order.
Fair Haven, where the church is located, is known as a Latino enclave in New Haven, a living patchwork of families both documented and undocumented from across Latin America and the Caribbean. Walking further along the nearby streets from Dios Pentecostal, along boisterous
Ferry Street and along the more quiet Exchange Street, it wasn’t clear whether everyone around the church had bore witness to Chavarria’s celebration or story, which had catapulted her into the state and national spotlight. She became the latest poster child, her supporters said, for how President Donald Trump’s new immigration policy was targeting noncriminal undocumented immigrants such as Chavarria.
Many residents, even those who had no idea who Chavarria was or what her story entailed, agreed that her outcome was a positive one.
Iglesia de Dios Pentecostal parishioner Klades Hernandez has lived in the neighborhood for 18 years and has attended the church for about seven years. Originally from Mexico, she said she first learned about Chavarria’s story from the local news. The church’s Pastor Hector Otero had always assured the parish that if this kind of situation ever arose, the church would respond.
“He still did it, even though he knew that he was at risk,” Hernandez said in Spanish. “I felt proud of the pastor, that they opened their door for Nury.”
Hernandez said the events provided some validity to New Haven’s status as a so-called sanctuary city. She believed Dios Pentecostal was the first church in the state to offer sanctuary from deportation.
“There was a lot of support,” Hernandez said.
Down the street from Hernandez’s house, Francia Aguero clutched a phone to her head while standing on a doorway. A native of Santo Domingo in the Dominica Republican, Aguero said she was visiting New Haven on vacation. She has thought about moving to the United States, but knows such a move would be difficult. She had heard snippets of Chavarria’s story, which she playfully said could encourage her to more seriously consider a move to the United States.
“She (now) has an opportunity,” Aguero said in Spanish.
Leilany Rivera said she wasn’t aware of Chavarria’s story, but she understood the underlying narrative. Rivera said it was an “injustice” to have someone like Chavarria issued a deportation order, since she was here to seek, “a future for her children, for her family,” like most immigrants.
“I would feel bad about her being deported,” Rivera said. “The whole world deserves an opportunity.” Sarah Miller lives on Clinton Avenue, about three blocks from Dios Pentecostal. She was of many organizers who gathered materials for Chavarria, which she said triggered, “a flood of support.”
The episode helped test the city’s sanctuary status, Miller said, and remind neighbors how much of a community they have in Fair Haven.
“The neighborhood has a long tradition of welcoming immigrants,” Miller said. “People rallied from lots of different background... Everybody wanted to do something to help.”
While sitting outside a mechanic shop on Ferry Street, Ivan Mateo said he had not heard of Chavarria’s story. But he said he wished he could do more for immigrants like her.
Mateo pointed out that nearly everyone in Fair Haven speaks Spanish, a lingua franca that helps provide a common thread from anyone who arrives in the neighborhood. Yet there are differences that can come into play.
Mateo is from Puerto Rico, which means he’s a U.S. citizen. The distinction between documented and undocumented immigrants can sometimes turn petty, which he said involves legal immigrants who can be arrogant and look down on folks who don’t have legal residency.
“We’re all the same,” Mateo said wistfully.