Who Gets to Live in America
Inside the Immigration Courtroom
Sitting in the corner of a drafty courtroom, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead, Flavio Teodoro Cabrera listened to a translator through big, black earphones and waited for the two words that would change his life.
Cabrera, an undocumented immigrant from Ecuador, travelled to the United States alongside his wife, Rosa Maria Mendoza (then 16), in July 1994, at the age of 19. A husband, father, and a cook, Cabrera has lived in Providence, RI, for the past 24 years.
Cabrera started one day this April just like any other––by opening his front door and collecting his mail, where an Order of Removal from the Department of Homeland Security lay among bills, advertisements, and letters.
After filing a Cancellation of Removal, Cabrera was granted a court date with Judge Brenda O’Malley.
On Thursday, June 24, Cabrera, his wife, and two of his three kids huddled close together in the back row of wooden benches in O’Malley’s courtroom, awaiting the start of his trial.
Such scenes are unfolding in courtrooms across America, as the Trump administration intensifies its crackdown on undocumented immigrants. “The current administration has really terrified us,” Mendoza said.
President Trump has not shied away from the topic of immigration––he has imposed a travel ban suspending immigration from seven countries (North Korea, Syria, Iran, Yemen, Libya, Somalia, and Venezuela), and has increased border patrol and deportation efforts. Stories of detention facilities and the deportations of children and parents have dominated the news in recent weeks.
As Cabrera was called forward, Jennifer, his middle child, began to bite her nails. She stared straight ahead, shifting her gaze only to answer her mother’s whispered questions in Spanish.
“I’m scared,” Jennifer said. “I love my father. He’s lived here all my life. His future is riding on today. My future is riding on today.” Jennifer, a recent high school graduate, is planning to attend Rhode Island College in the fall.
Even with the scholarship she has received, Jennifer will not be able to complete her college education without her father’s support––which he would not be able to provide from Ecuador. “If my father gets deported today, I won’t go to college,” Jennifer said. “I want to be the first in my family to go, but instead I will have to work to help out my mom and brother.”
This is the reality for many undocumented immigrants and their children. At present, school districts across the country are required by law to give undocumented children access to education through high school. After graduation, higher education has no requirements.
Forty-nine percent of unauthorized students who have graduated from high school are presently enrolled in college or have attended college. On the other hand, seventy-one percent of legal, American born high school graduates go on to attend college, says the Association of American Colleges and Universities (AACU).
The AACU attributes these figures to a combination of a greater need for scholarship and for undocumented immigrants and their children to work at a younger age.
“Flavio needs to stay here for his family,” his lawyer, Hans Bremer, said. “That’s what his case is built on.” The Mendoza-Cabreras have three children; Steven, 21, Jennifer, 18, and Anthony, a 12 year old middle school student.
Cabrera told the judge that he is especially concerned about his son Anthony, whose grades plummeted when Cabrera received the deportation notice. “He has always been a nervous kid,” Cabrera said, “but this has made it much worse.”
Cabrera explained that Anthony has been going to see a counselor for his anxiety, and if he returns to Ecuador, Anthony will not be able to afford the counselor.
Anthony’s older sister Jennifer agrees that this would have a significantly negative impact on her brother. “The sessions have been helping a lot, I think,” Jennifer said. “He comes home more calm, and he does his homework. It has been great to see.”
Cabrera’s older son Steven, meanwhile, is training to become a marine. Bremer argued that Cabrera’s son’s willingness to serve this country should entitle the entire family to a life in the United States.
Cabrera’s three children — all American citizens — have no desire to travel back to Ecuador if his Cancellation of Removal case were to fail. “We don’t want to go back with him,” Jennifer said, “We were born here. We grew up here. We don’t know Ecuador.”
The U.S. Department of State’s Travel Advisory has assessed Ecuador as “Level 1: Exercise normal precautions.” The U.S. Embassy advises against travel to the northern border region due to “the presence of organized crime, drug, and small-arms trafficking, and incursions by terrorist organizations near Ecuador’s porous border with Colombia.”
Cabrera is brought to tears at the thought of being separated from his children. “They will all suffer,” he said. “They will have no money, no house. They will have to work, pay the bills… Anthony will suffer too much.”
After a direct and cross examination of Cabrera, Judge O’Malley granted his Cancellation of Removal. “It’s obvious Mr. Cabrera is a good person and father, and his family needs him to thrive economically,” she said. She declined to hear the testimonies of his wife and children.
The green card given to Cabrera will allow him to live and work permanently in the United States. “We are so happy,” Mendoza said through tears as she walked out of the courtroom, clinging to her husband and repeatedly thanking their attorney. “We walked into that room not knowing if Jennifer would go to college, and if my husband could live with us. We have been blessed.”