As federal officials try to keep up with refugees arriving at our southern border, federal courts in Virginia are facing a growing workload. Many immigrants with families here have been deported -- only to return, get caught and face trial for a felony.
Twenty-three-year-old Jaslene Paredes is a U.S. citizen – her mother American, her dad Mexican. She grew up in Charlottesville and met her husband Antonio here. He came from Mexico with his dad at the age of 13 and after graduation found work with a local builder. The couple has a 2-year-old son.
Liam has big brown eyes, curly black hair, a sweet smile and a passion for his father.
“His dad is his world,” Jaslene says. “He forgets he has a mom when his father gets here. It’s all ‘dad, dad, dad.’”
Liam also expected to have a baby brother, but the child – Josiah – was born with a rare and fatal genetic defect.
“He was born on the 6th, passed away on the 7th, and on the 9th we had his funeral.”
A few days later, on his way to work, Antonio was picked up by ICE agents. He called Jaslene to explain.
“It was really hard, because I still hadn’t gotten over the death of our child, and then my support system was taken away.”
Antonio would probably have qualified for the DACA program which allows undocumented immigrants brought here as children to stay, but one summer he went back to Mexico to see his mother.
“He went when he was 17, and then in that 2-month period he turned 18, so when he came back he was an adult.”
He was caught and returned to Mexico but eventually got back to Charlottesville where he worked for nine years before his latest arrest. Jaslene – suddenly a single mother – tried desperately to get her husband out of jail.
“I called every immigration lawyer,” she recalls. “I left messages. I said I was willing to pay anything, and nobody called me back.”
That’s not surprising, since dozens of people in Central Virginia are now facing a federal felony charge of illegal re-entry according to public defender Lisa Lorish.
“If someone doesn’t have a criminal history, they might not receive any jail time, but there are people if you have any kind of criminal history who do actually receive another year, another 18 months just for the re-entry offense,” she says.
She’s represented a dozen people on the federal charge, including Antonio, and Jaslene found him a second lawyer to try and prevent his deportation.
“She told me, ‘Tell him not to sign anything,’ and he called me the next day, and I was like, ‘Don’t sign anything,’ and he said, ‘I already signed.’ And he was like, ‘I just don’t want to be in jail,’ because they said it would take six to nine months for him to get in front of a judge, and they said a deportation would take two weeks.”
Jaslene went to court – hoping Antonio would be freed on bail. At his request, she brought their son.
“He threw the biggest tantrum when he saw his dad. It broke everybody’s heart, and they were about to escort me out of the building because his cry – you could hear it in the courtroom.”
Now free and awaiting trial, Antonio knows he may be sent back to Mexico – a move Jaslene dreads.
“It’s just a completely different culture,” she says. “Like here I have the liberty of getting in the car with my son and running to Walmart if I need something. Over there I wouldn’t be able to travel by myself, because we are US. citizens, and we are in danger. They could think that we have money or that my family has money, and they can take us, or they can take our child.”
And if he’s convicted, the couple probably couldn’t find a home in another country – like Canada. Having a felony on his record here would keep Antonio out, and would make it impossible for him to emigrate legally to the United States.
