Reuters
By Dan Levine and Kristina Cooke
October 21, 2014
It
was the week of Chinese New Year, and Jian Zhen Huang was climbing her
sister’s doorstep in Brooklyn with cups and other supplies for the
celebration inside. Suddenly,
a young man grabbed her, punched her in the face several times, knocked
her down to the pavement and stole her phone.
The
housewife spent that February 2013 night at a hospital and left with
her head wrapped in gauze, staples in her scalp and black circles around
her eyes - “like a panda,”
her husband said in an affidavit. Headaches and sleepless nights
persisted for months.
Reporting
the crime to the police carried a potential risk: Huang had entered the
country using someone else’s passport 14 years ago. But after she left
the hospital,
Huang gave the New York Police Department a description of her
attacker. Her husband, an undocumented cook, called the police to
provide tracking information for the phone.
While
they waited to hear back from the NYPD, Huang learned from her sister
about a visa the federal government grants to undocumented immigrants
who are victims of violent
crime and who help law enforcement try to catch the perpetrators. The
so-called U visa, which allows the recipient to live and work in the
U.S. for four years, would remove the threat of deportation and start
Huang and her husband on the road to citizenship.
Huang
hired a lawyer to help with her application. On one of the forms, an
NYPD sergeant attested to Huang’s help. Then Huang hit a snag: Police
headquarters must officially
verify her cooperation before her application can be submitted to
United States Citizenship and Immigration Services, and it hasn’t done
so. According to Chunyu Jean Wang, Huang’s lawyer, the NYPD hasn’t
responded to her repeated inquiries for months. “We’re
lucky if anyone picks up the phone,” Wang said.
The
U visa program was created by Congress to help police and prosecutors
build trust with immigrant communities. But national data analyzed by
Reuters, along with dozens
of interviews with police, prosecutors, lawyers and immigrants across
the country, show that for undocumented immigrants like Huang who seek a
U visa by helping the police, the chances of gaining a legal toehold in
the United States are largely a matter of
geography.
TELLING NUMBERS
In
some cities, police and prosecutors readily verify that an undocumented
crime victim cooperated; in others, they stonewall. From 2009 through
May 2014, law enforcement
in New York City verified 1,151 crime victims, according to figures
provided by federal immigration authorities in response to public
records requests by Reuters. Meanwhile, police and prosecutors verified
4,585 crime victims in Los Angeles, a city with less
than half of New York’s population.
Oakland,
California, has less than 5 percent of New York’s population, yet law
enforcement there verified 2,992 immigrants during the same period -
more than twice as
many. Sacramento, California, has a slightly higher population than
Oakland, but verified just 300 crime victims.
The
federal data do not include the number of immigrants whose requests for
verification are ignored or denied by the police. Nor is it possible to
determine how many
of those would have ultimately been rejected anyway because the
applicant would not qualify under the program. Victims of misdemeanor
assault, for instance, do not qualify.
But
wide variations in the numbers of certifications among jurisdictions of
similar size suggest that thousands of victims of violent crimes who
have embraced the offer
of a U visa haven’t got one.
“There
is a significant portion of the country where law enforcement is not
providing certifications,” said Gail Pendleton, co-founder of ASISTA,
which helps lawyers who
work with immigrant survivors of domestic violence and sexual assault.
“That means that you have tens of thousands of victims of crimes like
domestic violence and rape that are just not getting help, and their
perpetrators are not being held accountable.”
In
a nationwide survey of advocates and attorneys in 2013, researchers at
the University of North Carolina School of Law found that the U visa
program “is kind of like
geography roulette,” said Deborah Weissman, a UNC law professor.
NYPD
Deputy Commissioner Susan Herman said the department has revamped its U
visa policies since a new city administration took over earlier this
year. “The problems were
a lack of transparency and a lack of understanding about what the
process was, a lack of speed, and a sense that people didn’t have any
recourse if they were denied and they felt they were wrongly denied,”
Herman said. “We’ve tried to address all three of
those problems.”
Herman
declined to comment on specific cases like Huang’s. She said the NYPD
views U visas as “very helpful” for law enforcement. “It’s appropriate
that if someone is
involved in an investigation, that they have this protection.”
UNEVEN APPLICATION
Democrat
Senator Ted Kennedy and Republican Senator Spencer Abraham worked
together in 2000 to create the U visa, part of the Violence Against
Women Act. Congress limited
the number to 10,000 a year, and the program is heavily oversubscribed.
In fiscal 2012, Citizenship and Immigration Services received 24,768
applications from crime victims certified by local law enforcement. If
the agency determines an immigrant is eligible
for the visa but the yearly cap has been reached, that person can still
obtain protection against deportation - and work authorization - while
joining the U visa queue.
To
guard against potential fraud, lawmakers required that local law
enforcement verify applicants so “someone whose day job it was to decide
who is telling truth” could
vet them, said Leslye Orloff, director of the National Immigrant
Women’s Advocacy Project at American University, who has lobbied on the
legislation over the years.
Interviews
with attorneys across the country reveal wide disparities in approaches
to law enforcement certification. Some agencies will only certify for
open cases, others
only for cases that are closed. Others put further limits on the type
of crime or rule out victims whose injuries aren’t deemed severe enough.
UNC’s
Weissman said that in many instances, local law enforcement is, in
essence, usurping Citizenship and Immigration Services’ authority to
decide whether to grant someone
a visa or not.
Citizenship
and Immigration Services declined to answer questions about the
program. In a statement, it said it was “committed to the integrity of
the immigration systems
and administers this program based on the law and the information
provided by both the applicant and law enforcement agencies.”
In
some jurisdictions, law enforcement is split: Police may refuse to
certify crime victims, while prosecutors will sign off, meaning that
only those victims whose cases
result in arrest and prosecution can apply for the visa, though that is
not a requirement under the law.
That’s
been the case in Albuquerque, New Mexico. In all, law enforcement there
has certified 225 U visa hopefuls since 2009, the federal data show. By
comparison, Fresno,
California, with about 50,000 fewer people and a lower violent crime
rate, certified 492 people during the same period.
Albuquerque’s
number includes some certifications by the district attorney’s office.
And over half of them – at least 140 cases from 2008 to 2013 – were
certified by Quintin
McShan.
‘A CULTURE THING’
In
2008, McShan, a New Mexico state police captain, started certifying
crime victims in cases investigated not by his own agency, but by the
Albuquerque Police Department.
“I strongly believe it is the right thing to do,” McShan said. “How can
you tell people, ‘I have the power to help you, but I won't use it?’”
When
he first started interviewing victims in APD cases, McShan considered
it a stop-gap measure until the department put its own policy in place.
He said he soon realized
he was the only officer in Albuquerque tasked with signing off on U
visa certifications.
“It’s a culture thing in that agency,” said McShan, who retired last year. “They didn’t think it was their job.”
APD
spokeswoman Janet Blair said that in most cases, prosecutors, not
police, can best determine whether a victim should be certified. She
said that “within weeks,” the
city will finish revised guidelines for victims whose police reports do
not result in an arrest. After that, she said, the city will agree to
review applications that were previously denied.
McShan
recalled a woman who made four separate police reports about her
abusive boyfriend, saying he broke her wrist and threatened her with a
steak knife. In the last
incident, he shoved her head into a wall and threatened to have her
deported if she testified against him. She remained willing to testify,
and McShan certified her in 2010.
Hugo
Reyes was not so lucky. In 2012, the 28-year-old had just been to Home
Depot when he stopped off at his Albuquerque home to use the bathroom
before taking his children
to get a hamburger. On his doorstep, a man stopped and spoke to him,
and then stabbed him.
“I
had no idea what he had done to me… There was just a hole in my
stomach,” Reyes said. “I wasn’t bleeding, but within three minutes I was
unconscious.”
Reyes
walked across the border from Mexico with a group of about 30 people
when he was 16. Following the attack, Reyes spoke to the police multiple
times, giving them
a description, as best he could, of the man who stabbed him. The man
was never caught, which meant Reyes isn’t eligible for a cooperation
signature from the DA’s office. And McShan retired before Reyes applied.
APD did not respond to specific questions about Reyes's case.
Recently,
the only work Reyes has been able to get is in construction. His doctor
told him that to avoid complicating his injury, he should try not to do
any heavy lifting.
On the construction site, he wears a supportive belt. If he got a U
visa, he said, he would look for work that doesn’t require constantly
lifting heavy things. “My neighbor works at Wal-Mart and says that they
pay well.”
AMBASSADORS
Responding
to concerns that some local agencies weren’t certifying crime victims,
Democratic Senator Patrick Leahy proposed a change to the law in 2011:
If a crime victim
seeking verification from local police is stonewalled, he or she could
then submit evidence directly to Citizenship and Immigration Services.
That language drew opposition from other senators, including the ranking
Republican on the Judiciary Committee, Charles
Grassley. Leahy dropped the provision.
“It
would have undermined the entire program,” Grassley said at a 2012
hearing. His spokeswoman recently told Reuters that the committee had
not been presented with any
evidence that law enforcement was not properly certifying U visa
applicants.
The
Oakland Police Department developed its U visa procedures in 2008, and
faulty requests to verify cooperation have been rare: Between 2009 and
2013, the department
rejected just 57, said Lieutenant Kevin Wiley, supervisor of the
special victims section. Wiley recently turned away an applicant who was
in prison for participating in the very crime of which he claimed to be
a victim.
Wiley
said he believes crime reporting has gone up in immigrant neighborhoods
because of the U visa. “We’d rather give an applicant the benefit of
the doubt at this level,”
he said.
Oakland
verifies more undocumented crime victims than any city besides Los
Angeles, though it has little more than a tenth of the population of Los
Angeles. Both the Oakland
Police Department and the Alameda County district attorney’s office
have coordinators who work with undocumented crime victims.
“They’re
our ambassadors” for law enforcement in immigrant communities, said Kim
Hunter, an Alameda County senior deputy district attorney.
The
system worked for Zurisadai Cortez. A few weeks after he graduated from
high school in 2007, he was hanging out with buddies in San Leandro,
adjacent to Oakland, about
to head for a pickup soccer game. A couple of guys walked up to them,
made small talk, and walked a few paces. Then one of them opened fire on
Cortez and his friends.
“I
heard the ‘ch ch,’ and [saw] him just turn around, and we all just hit
the ground,” Cortez said. No one was hurt, and the police came right
away. “They seemed to believe
we were good kids right off the bat,” he said. Later that night, he
accompanied the cops to identify a suspect. Cortez testified for the
government in court, and the shooter was sentenced to 12 years in
prison.
Afterward,
Cortez heard about the U visa from a family member whose husband had
been shot. An Alameda County prosecutor certified Cortez’s cooperation
form, and Citizenship
and Immigration Services approved his application. Cortez, who walked
across the desert with his family as a child to enter the U.S.,
graduated from college last year.
“It’s just crazy how that piece of plastic gives you a sigh of relief, just such empowerment,” he said.
‘MASSIVE LOGJAMS’
Allegations
of police dragging their feet on certifications have arisen in New
York, with one of the largest populations of undocumented people in the
United States.
Huang’s
attorney filed a lawsuit against the city on behalf of Huang and six
other immigrants, alleging that the NYPD abused its discretion under New
York law because
it wouldn’t allow anyone to verify cooperation besides the
commissioner. That has created “massive logjams” and “leaves many crime
victims with no alternative for obtaining certification,” according to
the lawsuit filed earlier this year in New York state
court.
NYPD
Deputy Commissioner Herman said two additional police officials can now
verify undocumented immigrants who cooperate with law enforcement.
“That has sped up the application
process, and that’s a good thing,” Herman said, adding that most crime
victims shouldn’t be waiting more than two months. The lawsuit is
pending.
Huang,
meanwhile, said through an interpreter that the lack of certification
is an obstacle to realizing her dream of opening a restaurant with her
husband. Now living
in Fairbanks, Alaska, all she can do is wait for the required
signature.
“I’m living an afraid life,” she said.
Another
New York crime victim, Omar Merabet, entered the country illegally on a
ship from Algeria in 1994. Three years ago, he was badly beaten while
out delivering Little
Debbie snacks on Rockaway Boulevard in Queens. A driver in another car
scraped his parked van and blamed him for the collision. He broke nine
bones in Merabet's face, which is now held together by a metal plate.
“In the wintertime, honestly the left side is
like, dead,” he said. “It’s like numb.”
Merabet
cooperated with police at the scene and returned to the station to look
at books of mug shots. He never heard of any arrests in the case. The
detective working
on the case attested to Merabet’s cooperation, he said, but since that
officer is not authorized by the NYPD to sign the certification form,
Merabet needs a higher-up to do so. He is not part of Huang’s lawsuit.
Another
sticking point is that Merabet’s assault is classified as a misdemeanor
on the police report. NYPD officers often misclassify felony assaults
as misdemeanors,
said Merabet’s lawyer, Disha Chandiramani.
NYPD’s
Herman said the department would still verify those cooperators if they
provide medical records and other evidence demonstrating that the crime
was actually more
serious than a misdemeanor.
Merabet
is currently under supervised release, fighting a deportation order
issued after he lost a bid for political asylum. He hopes the NYPD will
verify his cooperation
so he has a chance to stay in the country.
For more information, go to: www.beverlyhillsimmigrationlaw.com
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