-- by Jacob Lichtenbaum, CAIR Coalition volunteer
My name is Jacob Lichtenbaum. I’m a senior Spanish major at Haverford College in Pennsylvania and a prospective worker in the immigration field (and hopefully, someday, an immigration attorney). This week, I’ve been volunteering at CAIR Coalition, a nonprofit organization that helps people in immigration detention with pro bono legal assistance, including representation in their immigration court proceedings since they have no right to appointed counsel. Individuals CAIR Coalition sees in detention include arriving asylum seekers, long term residents of the United States who initially entered without documents and individuals who have had an encounter with the criminal justice system. My role as a volunteer has included translating documents, manning the detention center hotline, and breaking down jail intake visits. Yesterday, I had the opportunity to actually participate in such a visit, an undertaking that has become, in my eyes, the highlight of my nascent career in immigration.
One quickly forgets the drudgery of a three hour drive necessary to reach Farmville Detention Center in Farmville, Virginia. Focused adrenaline kicked in once my team (a young assistant, a legal fellow, and a fearsomely capable attorney) and I made our way through security and were escorted to the chapel where we were to accomplish our work. My job was twofold: fill out legal intake forms for potential clients who had not yet come into contact with CAIR Coalition and deliver messages to immigrants that CAIR Coalition was already in the process of assisting. These tasks seemed somewhat simple and monotonous at first, but quickly revealed themselves to be anything but.
To borrow from a classic film, delivering messages to immigrants is like a box of chocolates – you never know what you’re going to get. The messages I imparted yesterday ranged from the mundane (“here is a packet of information you requested”) to the legally stringent (“we NEED to know if you have any other past criminal convictions of ANY kind”) to the absolutely heartbreaking. Unfortunately, my first jail visit featured one of the truly heartbreaking variety.
The immigrant took a seat across from me as I asked him his name (the messages are ordered alphabetically by last name). After finding him in my immense packet (CAIR Coalition does its best to aid as many immigrants as possible), I quickly skimmed his message so I would be best prepared to deliver it in Spanish (the immigrants’s native tongue). As I did so, a massive detention center-sized lump materialized in my stomach. The immigrant’s U-Visa application had been rejected, as had the application of his young daughter – a development that would result either in her deportation back to Honduras or her placement with a foster family in the United States. Either way, the immigrant would lose custody of his child.
Needless to say, that was not easy news to deliver. I struggled through the message, my Spanish hindered by emotion and my need to constantly interject my apologies into the information: “I’m sorry about your daughter, I’m sorry I can’t be of more help, I’m sorry I can’t change a system that is inherently unjust and unforgiving, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Eventually, the immigrant seemed to come to terms with the message and we agreed that he should talk to our present attorney to figure out his best remaining course of legal action. When he got up to leave, I shook his hand, offered one last apology, and wished him the best of luck with his situation.
That form of goodbye was a constant throughout my day at Farmville Detention Center. I would help the immigrants to the best of my ability, and then wish them luck as they went on their way. It was a goodbye that made me feel horribly guilty and incapable. Majority of the men I spoke to would almost certainly be deported back to countries which many of them hadn’t been to in years – countries where many of them faced persecution from gangs or estrangement from their families that would remain in the US. Meanwhile, I would be driving home to my extremely comfortable life in which I attend a superb school, enjoy the company of a loving family, and am a US Citizen.
This feeling of guilt and helplessness, while horrible to experience, also had its positives. It has strengthened my resolve to dedicate my time and energy to the US undocumented immigrant upon my graduation from college. It has expanded my perspective as an immigration worker and a human being. It has made me realize that there is always another immigrant to be helped, and that the fight to enlighten them about them about their human and civil rights must never end. It is my sincere hope that anyone who has even a passing interest in the world of immigration will attempt to learn more about the situation of people in detention centers and likewise attempt to help them in the best way possible.
Interested in volunteering with CAIR Coalition? Check out our volunteer opportunities here.
