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Music Professor Hits a Sour Note With INS

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TIMES STAFF WRITER

An acclaimed music professor at Irvine Valley College who joined the faculty six months ago has been ordered to leave the United States by Feb. 2 because of what he says was an honest misunderstanding of one of his immigration papers.

The college’s music department waited 10 years for the money to hire a full-time music professor like Daniel Luzko, a Paraguayan composer whose work has won awards and recognition in several countries.

Now students and faculty are scrambling to convince Immigration and Naturalization Service officials that Luzko is indispensable.

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On Monday he will be required to appear before the INS to show them that he has purchased a plane ticket back to Paraguay.

Luzko, 33, has been in the United States for 11 years. During that time, he earned a doctorate and taught at Catholic University in Washington. Before moving to Aliso Viejo for the job at Irvine Valley, Luzko served as the music librarian for the National Symphony Orchestra at the Kennedy Center.

The musician applied for citizenship nearly two years ago, and has been waiting his turn for an interview with the severely backlogged INS ever since.

But when Luzko traveled to Paraguay in December to receive a $10,000 music prize from his native country’s government, it was with a permit he had used on a previous trip--a permit that he believed was still valid.

Not so, immigration officials said when he returned to the United States through Miami.

His lawyer, Jim Acoba, filed an application for humanitarian parole on his behalf at the INS offices in Los Angeles.

If it is granted, Luzko will not be deported. But he will be required to start his application for citizenship all over again.

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The INS examiner who is handling Luzko’s case could not be reached for comment Friday afternoon.

Luzko’s misunderstanding stemmed from a red stamp on the document he had used to travel to Spain to receive a previous award in 1998. It said, “Paroled . . . May 8, 2000.”

The stamp, it turns out, refers to his permission to remain in the United States until his scheduled INS interview, not his ability to travel.

“It was my mistake,” said Luzko. “I went to the dictionary and I looked up the word parole before I went to Paraguay. But this paper expired Oct. 27, 1999.”

Luzko is weary but calm; caught in limbo somewhere between trying to do his job and figuring out how to sell his car and pack up his belongings in a hurry.

“It was a mistake I made, I realize that. But I’m losing everything because of human error.”

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