By: Caroline Solis, Legal Fellow, CAIR Coalition
Three years ago, I sat in the Immigration Judge’s chambers researching and drafting decisions. It was my first summer in law school, and I was interning at an immigration court. My experience at this internship opened my eyes to the difficulties noncitizens face when fighting their deportation cases. Immigration law is civil, not criminal, so courts are not required to appoint attorneys to those who cannot afford them, even when facing a consequence as drastic as deportation. I witnessed firsthand the daunting task many immigrants face in representing themselves in immigration court without having any knowledge of the legal system in the United States, much less the complex immigration laws. I observed several obstacles many immigrants encountered when representing themselves, such as not being able to speak English or not knowing how to identify and develop winning legal arguments.
These issues were only compounded for immigrants who were detained, often far from any friends or family. Those in detention, without attorneys, also lacked access to evidence that could help prove their fear of returning to their home country. In many cases, having an attorney can be the difference between staying in the United States and being deported. Deportation has traumatic effects, including breaking up families or resulting in death for those who fear persecution in their country of origin. Interning at the Immigration Court fortified my decision to work with indigent immigrants who are unable to secure legal representation.
Fast-forward three years. I am again in an immigration courtroom, but this time I am sitting at the lawyer’s table. I am a Legal Fellow at the Capital Area Immigants’ Rights (CAIR) Coalition, at the final hearing. CAIR Coalition is a non-profit organization that assists immigrants detained by Immigration and Customs Enforcement in local jails in Virginia and Maryland. Working here has allowed me to achieve my ambition of working with indigent immigrants who are unable to attain representation. My client Mustapha* was patiently, and nervously, waiting from inside a small holding cell in front of a television screen in an immigration detention center. In Virginia, the immigration detention centers are located at least forty-five minutes away from the Immigration Court. In order to save on transportation costs, the noncitizen detainees have all of their immigration hearings through a videoconference system. They can see and hear the judge, and everyone in the courtroom can see and hear the detainees—sometimes. After being in immigration detention for nearly a year, this was Mustapha’s first chance to fight his case in front of a judge. I would argue, on his behalf, that he should stay in the United States because he deserved a second chance, and furthermore, he would be tortured if he were returned to Somalia. At last, the Immigration Judge was ready to begin.
Just as we had practiced, I began to ask Mustapha questions about why he fled from Somalia to the United States. He described what happened when he was 18-years-old. One week after the Somali Civil War broke out, he and his mother, sister, and brother saw anti-government rebels pour into their neighborhood and enter houses at random. The rebels pulled his neighbors from their homes and shot them in the streets. He described the paralyzing terror he felt when the rebels made it to his house and started to break down the front door. By the time the rebels broke through his front door, Mustapha’s family had made it over their backyard fence and were running away, but Mustapha was the last to try to make it over. A rebel shot at him from inside his house with an AK-47 style gun and a bullet hit him in the hip and the leg. He testified that he felt excruciating pain and fell to the ground, but he pulled himself up because he knew that if the rebels caught him, they would kill him. He managed to get over the fence and escape. Mustapha eventually made it to a neighboring town and met up with his mother, sister, and brother.
I then asked Mustapha about his life after entering the United States as a refugee with his family. He testified that his first job was at a fast-food restaurant, and he eventually worked his way up to working at a car dealership. However, after living in the United States for 13 years without incident, he was convicted for possession of khat leaves. Khat leaves are legal in Somalia and often smoked during celebrations such as weddings. He stated he was unaware khat was illegal in the United States. Mustapha was required to serve six months in jail and then was transferred immediately to immigration custody. Mustapha described his extreme fear of returning to Somalia, where al Shabaab (a terrorist organization with close ties to al Qaeda) had taken over much of the country and imposed Sharia law, which he opposes.
Finally, after months of preparing and countless sleepless nights, we waited for the Immigration Judge to dictate whether Mustapha could remain in the United States or not. When the Immigration Judge granted Mustapha’s application for relief from removal, I released a sigh of relief. Mustapha began profusely thanking the judge. Later that day, after spending nearly a full year in immigration custody, Mustapha was finally released.
Mustapha, like many immigrants in detention, did not have the money to hire an attorney. Fortunately, I was able to volunteer to take on his case and provide him with legal counsel. But others are not so lucky. Having a lawyer is so often the difference between deportation and relief. Please consider volunteering through CAIR Coalition to provide counsel to those who need it most. Visit the CAIR Coalition website to view some of the pro bono opportunities available.
*Name changed to protect privacy.
