In Pro Per

By Itir Yakar
     
      The Visit
      The phone rang on an otherwise ordinary Tuesday morning in July, and my mother picked up. When the man on the line identified himself as "the police" and asked her to open the front door, she thought it must be about the recent break-ins at our apartment building. Downstairs she was surprised to see two men, clad in not-so-professional attire, who identified themselves as U.S. Department of Homeland Security agents. They wanted to know if my brother lived there.
      My brother had applied to extend his tourist visa three months earlier. U.S. Citizenship and Immigration officers had advised us that it was OK for him to remain in the U.S. until he received a decision from the government. It took only one week after we got notice that his application was denied for immigration agents to show up at our door.
      We had moved to California from Turkey nearly 15 years before, a year after my father's unexpected death. My mother, 39 at the time, decided it would be in the best interests of her children, a 15-year-old girl and a 13-year-old boy, to get an education in California, where her older brother lived. Since then, each of us has resided in the U.S. on valid student or work visas, and my mother eventually got her permanent residency. My brother moved back to Turkey in 2000 to complete his mandatory military service requirement. He has lived and worked there since, visiting us every so often on a valid visa.
      When the two agents visited my mother, we were already in the process of booking a ticket for my brother's return to Turkey. So, that's what she told them.
      But the questions the agents asked my mother, coupled with their file on our family?including an enlarged photo of my brother?gave a glimpse of the way immigration authorities seem to regard this country's immigrants: more or less as criminals, regardless of legal status. They not only inquired about my brother but also demanded to know why I was still in the country and working when, after completing a graduate degree from Northwestern University, my student visa had expired. Apparently, they did not know that their agency had approved a skilled worker visa for me.
      Next, one of the agents asked my mother how she got her green card (that's like asking someone how they got their birth certificate) and for the name and contact information of her immigration attorney (as in the doctor who delivered you). My mother told the agents her family hadn't done anything wrong over the nearly 15 years she has resided here. She assured them that my brother was leaving the country within six days.
      One of the agents provided his own assurance: If my brother wasn't gone by then, they would "be back and bother you again." When my mother asked the agents for their names and phone numbers, they said they had no direct lines, only a fax number. One of the agents gave her his card, jotting down a number; the other reached for his pocket and took out a card, only to put it back.
      I sent one of the agents numerous faxes over the next few days, and after dropping off my brother at SFO for his Istanbul-bound plane I was left pondering many questions: Why had immigration agents been so eager to pay us a visit when my brother's denial notice didn't indicate a date by which he had to leave the country? Why would the Department of Homeland Security spend its resources questioning the integrity of someone who clearly went through legal means to request an extension of his visa?especially someone who spent eight of his formative years here and has deep familial connections here? And why was our thoroughly documented, law-abiding family made to feel like criminals?
      I couldn't help but think there had to be bigger fish out there for the Department of Homeland Security to catch?like human traffickers or perhaps even terrorists?instead of targeting law-abiding immigrants. Most disturbing of all, I realized how vulnerable my family and I are here to treatment that smacks of harassment despite our legal status, especially given an overly aggressive immigration department that seems to lack accurate files, not to mention a sense of humanity in how it deals with people.
      Finally, it made me hesitate about writing this column for fear that, as a noncitizen from a Muslim country, anything I say can and will be used against me in future immigration applications. But, then, I still have faith in the fundamental principles of the United States, such as freedom of speech.
     
      Itir Yakar (itir_yakar@dailyjournal.com) is a staff writer for the San Francisco Daily Journal.
     

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