An agonizing wait
A Salvadoran couple adopted three American daughters. Now they face threat of deportation.
On a recent evening, S.M., her husband, A.A., and their three daughters settled in for a pajama party at their home in Coachella, Ca. There would be princess movies, popcorn and lots of snuggling.
The parents knew these kinds of sweet evenings could be numbered.
For nearly 20 years, S.M. and A.A., both from El Salvador, have worked le- gally in the Coachella Valley under a federal program called Temporary Protected Status. It has allowed them to save money to buy a home and start a family.
But ever since the Trump administration announced in early January that it would be ending deportation protections for Salvadorans, S.M. and A.A. have wrestled with a daunting question: If they lose their status in the country, what will happen to the three Americanborn daughters they’ve adopted in the
past five years?
The Desert Sun, part of the USA TODAY NETWORK, is using the couple’s initials because they fear they could be targeted by immigration officials.
This Coachella family’s plight is the result of the intersection of federal immigration policies and the state adoption system, two labyrinthine systems that don’t often communicate with each other. In California, adoption officials prioritize stability when placing a child in a new home, but they are not required to ask adoptive parents about their immigration status. In this case, the Temporary Protected Status for Salvadorans — which had come to appear “temporary” in name only — allowed S.M. and A.A. to build the permanent home the little girls needed.
But now the rules have changed. S.M. and A.A. are slated to lose their temporary status in September 2019. The clock is ticking, and the Coachella parents have three choices:
Move their daughters to El Salvador, a nation so unsafe that the U.S. government warns tourists against traveling there.
Return to El Salvador without their daughters, splitting apart their family.
Remain in the United States as undocumented immigrants, trying to maintain their lives while facing the daily threat of arrest or deportation.
They thought they were safe
The family’s predicament comes as President Trump cracks down on legal and illegal immigration. Under his watch, the Department of Homeland Security has announced the end of temporary status for Salvadorans, as well as Haitians and Nicaraguans.
Homeland Security can designate a country for temporary status if it’s facing extraordinary and temporary conditions, such as a civil war, an environmental disaster or an epidemic. Temporary status protects beneficiaries from being detained and deported and allows them to work and obtain travel authorization.
The policy change will affect more than 200,000 Salvadorans, as well as their more than 192,000 U.S.-born children, according to the Center for Migration Studies. But it’s likely that few parents with such a designation have adopted American-born children, as S.M. and A.A. have.
The California state agency that oversees adoptions doesn’t track the immigration status of adoptive parents, so it’s nearly impossible to say how rare the family’s quandary is. But four attorneys across the country who specialize in adoption, immigration or both said they had never heard of a family with temporary status adopting U.S.-born children.
The parents have discovered that the country’s convoluted immigration sys- tem leaves them with few remedies for their new family.
S.M. and A.A.’s 5-year-old twins, Yamil and Nicol, are in kindergarten. Their third daughter, Sophia, is 4. The Desert Sun is using the girls’ middle names because their parents fear for their safety.
The government’s decision to end Temporary Protected Status for Salvadorans rocked the family.
“We thought (our status) would be converted into residency after so much time,” A.A. said in Spanish. “We never thought they would take it away.”
S.M. and A.A. don’t want to leave the USA. They don’t want their daughters to grow up in El Salvador.
“There is so much crime in our country now,” S.M. said.
El Salvador, a country of more than
6 million people, registered nearly
4,000 murders in 2017, according to the Associated Press. The country is so dangerous that the U.S. Department of State has recommended that Americans reconsider traveling to the country.
For S.M. and A.A., perhaps the only thing worse than being sent back to El Salvador is the idea of being separated from their daughters.
“It breaks your heart,” S.M. said. “I would go crazy if I were left without my kids.”
A life built in the USA
S.M. and A.A. grew up in the same rural community near San Miguel, El Salvador.
She emigrated in 1990 and worked as a babysitter in Los Angeles before moving to Coachella. He arrived in 1994 and labored in the valley’s fields.
Both were undocumented until 2001, when a pair of earthquakes devastated El Salvador. The U.S. government determined that Salvadorans who already were in the United States were eligible for the temporary status.
S.M. and A.A. qualified and reapplied every 18 months. With the designation, they got better jobs and a sense of security. They got married and bought their house.
They tried to have children but couldn’t, so they decided to adopt.
As part of that process, they underwent a criminal background check, fingerprinting, reviews of their medical, employment, emotional, marital and life history, and a home assessment. They said they provided information about their place of birth and their extended family.
They said their immigration status was never brought up.
Plans are on hold
Michael Weston, spokesman for the California Department of Social Services, confirmed that adoption officials don’t routinely ask parents about their immigration status.
“There’s no requirement to ask that question,” he said.
Weston said federal law prohibits the discrimination of adoptive parents based on age, race, religion, national origin and disability, and “this includes the immigration status of adoptive parents.”
S.M. and A.A. were at the hospital in 2012 when the twins, Yamil and Nicol, were born prematurely at 33 weeks. The adoption was finalized in 2014.
Sophia was born in 2013; her adoption was also finalized in 2014.
“They changed our life, but it’s really nice,” A.A. said. S.M. agreed, “We wouldn’t change it for anything.”
They have long talked about adopting a fourth child, a boy they would name Jason. But that plan is on hold, maybe indefinitely.
The permanent home that S.M. and A.A. pledged to provide their daughters is now in jeopardy. And they have few remedies available to them.
They could hope Congress or the White House comes up with a solution for Salvadorans with temporary status before the September 2019 expiration date. As of now, at least one of the immigration bills that has been proposed in Washington would provide green cards for some immigrants who lose temporary status.
They could rely on their children to petition for their parent’s citizenship — but under current law, their girls couldn’t do that for at least 15 years.
“When the focus is on what’s in the best interest of the child, this family is probably what’s in the best interest of the child,” said Irene Steffas, a Georgiabased attorney who specializes in immigration and adoption. It also would be in the best interest of the children to remain with their parents in the United States, she said.
In the worst-case scenario, Steffas said, the parents could rely on the contingency plan they developed during the adoption process in case of their death. That could extend to the parents’ detention or deportation, she said.
S.M. and A.A. do have a plan for what would happen if they’re both picked up by immigration agents. It’s painful for them to consider, after having had deportation protection for nearly two decades, but this is it: A.A.’s youngest brother, an American citizen, would care for the girls while the parents figure out their next step.
“Sometimes I dream and I have one of these nightmares,” S.M. said. “And then I wake up and open my eyes and say, ‘Thank God it was a nightmare.’ ”
“It breaks your heart. I would go crazy if I were left without my kids.” S.M. Mother to three girls