With a citizenship test, mom’s fears turn to smiles
A recent drive to San Antonio with my mother, Alicia, was uncommonly quiet.
Our visit south wasn’t a quick mother-daughter getaway meant to enjoy the city’s beautiful scenery or popular restaurants. Our mission was to get my mother to her interview with U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services — a critical step in her quest to become a U.S. citizen. My job was to ensure she arrived relaxed and focused.
She had prepared for this day for at least eight months.
The journey for this trip began last August, when my mother finally decided to become a U.S. citizen. Her decision, as I noted when I first wrote about her choice, was born out of fear of what might happen to immigrants in this country — even legal ones like her — if Donald Trump were elected. Trump the candidate was known for his anti-immigrant rhetoric.
Typically, when I’m in the car with her, my mother’s voice becomes the soundtrack for the duration of the ride. But on this particular sunny day, the drive down I-35 was different. Instead of filling the air with her usual colorful commentary, my mother spent almost 90 minutes forcing small talk that quickly faded to silence. Mostly, she looked straight ahead at nothing in particular. Every now and then, she’d write something on the back of a credit-card-bill envelope she pulled from her purse.
I didn’t have to ask what she was thinking. She was worried what would happen if she didn’t pass the test.
Our family assumed that my mother’s application for citizenship would bring us all peace of mind. Boy, were we wrong. Since Trump’s move into the White House, my mother grew increasingly worried about her future here.
“Yes, I’m here legally, but what if (Trump) decides to kick us all out, too?” my mom said on several occasions. It’s a question, I’m certain, being asked by many, with good reason: Trump has doubled down on his campaign’s unwelcoming message to immigrants.
Take, for instance, Trump’s executive orders that have created fear in immigrant communities across the country:
A border security policy that calls for the construction of a wall along the U.S.-Mexico border.
A ban on nationals from Iran, Iraq, Libya, Somalia, Sudan and Yemen from entering the U.S. for at least 90 days — and his indefinite ban on nationals from Syria.
A policy on interior enforcement that broaden the definitions of unauthorized immigrants prioritized for deportation.
If you recall, it’s the latter that recently created shock and fear here in Central Texas.
Federal immigration officials led an immigration enforcement operation that spanned several days in mid-February, ending in the arrest of 51 people suspected of residing in the country illegally. Before, deportation proceedings in Travis County normally were prompted by an arrest that led to an immigration check. This time, Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents were out in the community, pulling people over and taking them in.
The raids were retribution, the American-Statesman reported, for a new policy by Travis County Sheriff Sally Hernandez that sharply limits her cooperation with ICE agents. Hernandez announced her policy on the same day that Trump was sworn into office.
Experts credit Trump’s hardline immigration rhetoric as one of the reasons behind a sharp decrease in illegal border crossings since his inauguration.
There is little doubt that fear has been a factor that has kept some folks out. It’s also the reason why people like my mother are taking steps to secure their place in this country.
Still, until her application process was complete, she worried.
Arriving an hour early for her interview didn’t serve much good. She remained mostly quiet and pensive. I asked if she wanted to go over the 100 questions she’d been studying for the civics test portion of her interview. She declined.
When she was called for her interview, I stayed in the waiting room. I looked over to my mother’s empty seat and saw the envelope she’d been writing on during our drive and our wait.
Roosevelt. Woodrow. Lincoln. Each written several times.
They were answers to some of the questions she studied. She wanted to make sure to spell each correctly.
After nearly an hour, she came back into the waiting room with a smile I didn’t recognize.
She nodded. “Si,” is all she said — and with that I knew her worries were no more.
She passed her interview. One step closer to taking the ceremonial oath and becoming an American.