Brother, I'm Dying - Edwidge Danticat [77]
Noting the “nature” of my uncle’s inadmissibility, Officer Reyes cited a positive Central Index System search involving the 1984 immigration file.
In the remarks section beneath his check mark, he wrote, “Subject has an A#” or an alien registration number. In a more detailed memo, he would later write, “The Central Index System revealed that subject had an existing A (27041999) number which revealed negative results to him being a resident. The Central Index System did not contain any information on the subject except his name and date of birth and activity date of 02/14/1984.”
Still, I suspect that my uncle was treated according to a biased immigration policy dating back from the early 1980s when Haitians began arriving in Florida in large numbers by boat. In Florida, where Cuban refugees are, as long as they’re able to step foot on dry land, immediately processed and released to their families, Haitian asylum seekers are disproportionately detained, then deported. While Hondurans and Nicaraguans have continued to receive protected status for nearly ten years since Hurricane Mitch struck their homelands, Haitians were deported to the flood zones weeks after Tropical Storm Jeanne blanketed an entire city in water the way Hurricane Katrina did parts of New Orleans. Was my uncle going to jail because he was Haitian? This is a question he probably asked himself. This is a question I still ask myself. Was he going to jail because he was black? If he were white, Cuban, anything other than Haitian, would he have been going to Krome?
“Are age and health factors in this situation?” demands the Discretionary Authority Checklist for Alien Applicants.
In spite of my uncle’s eighty-one years and his being a survivor of throat cancer, which was obvious from his voice box and tracheotomy, when answering whether there were age and health factors to be taken into consideration, Officer Reyes checked No.
Is the applicant a well-known public figure?
No.
Congressional or media interest?
No.
Does the applicant have a legitimate reason for entering the U.S.?
No.
Is the applicant’s reason for entry based on an emergency? No.
Credible claim of official misinformation?
No.
Is there a relationship to a U.S. employer or resident?
Yes.
Intent to circumvent admissibility requirements?
No.
Misrepresentations made by applicant during inspection process?
No.
Would the applicant be admissible if s/he had a valid passport and/or visa? (My uncle had both.)
Yes.
Is there relief for the applicant through the parole or visa waiver process?
No.
Tomorrow
My father’s rough patch had continued. He was becoming agitated, panicked at times over his decreasing ability to speak for extended periods. His anxiety sent us on a renewed search. During his monthly visit with Dr. Padman, Bob asked if he could be considered for any experimental treatment programs and procured a referral to a pulmonologist at Columbia Presbyterian in upper Manhattan.
Suddenly my father had a place and time on which to pin his hopes. He was so looking forward to his appointment that he would end each of our brief conversations by saying, “We’ll see what they tell me at Columbia.”
On Saturday morning, as my father struggled for breath and dreamed of Columbia, I had to tell him that his brother was at Krome, a place that he, like all Haitians, knew meant nothing less than humiliation and suffering and more often than not a long period of detention before deportation.
“So it’s true,” he said. Uncle Franck had called the night before to tell him that Uncle Joseph might be going there.
“I hate to put this on you,” my father said. “You’re pregnant, but you’re the only family he has down there. It’s in your hands.”
I told him that Fedo and I had already called a few immigration lawyers and they’d all advised us that there was nothing we could do before Monday morning.
“You mean,” my father said, “Uncle has to spend the whole weekend in jail?”
When he arrived at Krome, my uncle was lined up