Crimes of Past Haunt O.C.’s Newest Citizens

The incident at the border happened in 1972--so long ago that Maria Elena Andrade barely remembered it. She tried to cross with a fake ID. She was caught, spent an afternoon in an immigration holding cell and was sent back to Mexico.

That was the extent of Andrade’s criminal history. And so, three years ago, when an examiner for the Immigration and Naturalization Service asked if she had ever been arrested or convicted of a crime, she didn’t think to mention it.

Now that lapse could cost Andrade her U.S. citizenship.

The Santa Ana mother of three is among 1,481 naturalized citizens nationwide who recently received notices that the INS may revoke their citizenship. As many as 4,000 more could be notified in the coming months.

The unprecedented mass revocation, which has struck fear into Andrade and scores of other immigrants, results from a $1.8-million review of more than 1 million people naturalized in the 13 months before the 1996 elections, during the Clinton administration’s aggressive Citizenship USA drive.

Outside consultants found problems--including undisclosed criminal histories--in slightly more than 6,000 cases that could lead to citizenship being revoked. A team of 23 INS attorneys and examiners are now reviewing those cases, setting off a process of notification, hearings and appeals that could drag on for years.

In a small number of cases--369--people were naturalized despite having had serious criminal convictions, including aggravated felonies, that should have disqualified them from ever becoming citizens. They could face deportation.

But most were people like Andrade, whose relatively minor crimes would not have prevented them from becoming citizens--if only they had told the truth. Covering up a criminal past, no matter how slight, could violate the “good moral character” requirement of citizenship, according to the INS.

Although the notices raised old fears of deportation among naturalized immigrants who had once been here illegally, most will merely be returned to legal U.S. resident status. Many will eventually be able to reapply for citizenship. Until then, they cannot vote, collect many public benefits or help family members immigrate as easily.

Peter Le, a 63-year-old native of Vietnam who was notified of the possible revocation of citizenship last fall, said he has done nothing wrong.

“I wasn’t afraid when I read it,” he said. “I knew that it was just a mistake. I’m not a criminal. I didn’t do anything.

In 1993, Le was arrested after a dispute with his wife, but he said the charges were dropped. He said when he applied for citizenship in 1995, someone helping him with the application advised him the incident was a family matter that didn’t need to be disclosed.

Le is one of several naturalized citizens who brought their notification letters to Santa Ana immigration attorney Gabriela Wood Coo.

“Some people forgot, some were embarrassed, others clearly lied because they were afraid they would never be naturalized,” Wood Coo said.

Another of her clients is the 27-year-old daughter of immigrant parents from Mexico, who became a legal U.S. resident at the age of 3.

At 19, she was cited for shoplifting and later ordered to volunteer several hours at a hospital. In a declaration to the INS, signed under oath, she insisted she was never arrested or convicted.

“Since I was not arrested [for shoplifting], and since the judge merely told me what I had done was bad,” she wrote in the affidavit, “I truly believed I was telling the truth when I completed and signed the application.”

The third client is Andrade, a native of Colima state in Mexico who worked as a maid in San Diego at the time of her border arrest. She became a legal resident under the 1986 amnesty law, married, and settled in Santa Ana, where she now sells real estate.

Andrade said she wanted to become a citizen because “one has more rights” here and said she remembers clearly the day three years ago when she took the oath of citizenship in Los Angeles. “It was really emotional, beautiful. I felt so wonderful. Now it’s not so great. It was such a shock when this happened. I never saw myself as a criminal.”

Immigration authorities said although Andrade’s citizenship is at risk, she and others targeted in the revocation proceedings would remain legal U.S. residents, unless they had been found guilty of a serious “deportable” offense.

Those who receive notices can argue in writing against revocation to the INS review team in Washington. They can also request a hearing, which would be held in the local INS district. They could ultimately appeal the decision to federal court.

INS spokesman Andrew Lluberes said hundreds of cases have been dismissed by reviewers before notices were sent out, and he expected more would be. “We’re talking about an extremely small number of people, and we already know not all will have citizenship revoked,” he said.

But immigration attorney Carl Shusterman of Los Angeles, who once worked as an INS examiner, said he expected there would be some political pressure to be tough on citizens who lied.

“Right now the prosecutors and the judges and the attorneys are all [working for] the same guys,” he said. “I would think they would have a tremendous amount of pressure to take away the citizenship, because they’re being hounded by Congress.”

Shusterman represents a native of India who became a citizen two years ago but failed to disclose a 20-year-old arrest in an Orange County traffic accident in which a young girl was killed. He said the charge was later dismissed. “He’s very worried they’re going to deport him, even though I assure him it’s not true,” Shusterman said.

“I think he has a good case [for keeping his citizenship], but I’m just not sure that all our evidence is going to be enough to stop them from doing this.”

Times staff writer Tini Tran contributed to this report