Somewhere Out There Is a Citizenship Application

To: Doris Meissner, INS Commissioner

From: A. Gurza, Alien No. 7389058

Re: My citizenship application

You don’t know me. I’m one of the 1.3 million legal residents of the United States waiting for our citizenship papers to be processed by your agency, the Immigration and Naturalization Service.

I’m writing to you because my case is taking longer than expected, and I’m starting to get worried.

I was hoping I could vote for president this year for the first time in my life, even though the Gore/Bush race isn’t shaping up to be all that stimulating. The election in Mexico, where I come from, is much more dramatic. But they wouldn’t let an expatriate like me vote there either.

Talk about a real nowhere man. I haven’t lived in my native country (except briefly as a student) since my parents brought me here as a baby in . . . well, it’s been a long while.

I hesitate to say how long because Americans get mad at me. They wonder how I had the gall to live here all this time without becoming a citizen. They call me ungrateful. They question my loyalties.

But they forget that when I became an adult and first had the chance to become an American, the United States was bombing Southeast Asia into oblivion. I saw that war as rich versus poor. Do you think I was being too simplistic? Anyway, I just couldn’t get myself to officially join a country that had picked up the imperialist banner from France in Vietnam.

Don’t get me wrong. I signed up for the draft as the law required. I just never got called. Good thing I didn’t do anything stupid. Because I notice you asked about my Selective Service registration on my application. I’m sure I’d have some explaining to do if I had been a draft dodger, even though America is real chummy with Vietnam these days.

It’s all water under the bridge anyhow. I’m anxious to be a citizen now. I just worry you’re not as anxious to have me.

I applied in January 1999 and was told it would take about a year to get my interview. Sure enough, I got an appointment in your El Monte office for Feb. 25, 2000. This ain’t so slow and inefficient, I thought.

Then I hit the dreaded bureaucratic bog. I got a notice saying my appointment had been “descheduled,” a peculiar way of saying canceled. The only excuse I got was mysterious: “Due to unforeseen circumstances.”

Wow, what happened? Was it that big fuss over the cute Cuban boy in Miami, Elian Gonzalez. Hey, you had your hands full with that kid, huh? I notice he’s even got his own special page on your snazzy new Web site (https://www.ins.us.doj.gov). It all took time--handling the press, monitoring those mind-blowing negotiations, planning that surprise commando raid.

I don’t know how you do it. Really. And now you’ve got to deal with death threats against your agent, that woman seen hustling Elian awkwardly out of the house in his shorts. I can see how other cases might fall by the wayside.

I learned a lot from your Web site. Last year alone, you received 5.3 million applications for immigration benefits, including citizenship. And you collected $1.1 billion in fees, including my 120 bucks.

Since 1993, your budget and staff have grown tremendously. Why, you’re the largest law enforcement agency in the federal government. What people don’t realize is that most of those extra resources went toward guarding the border so we don’t let more poor people in.

Oh, sorry. There I go being simplistic again.

I know you get pressure from all sides. So you must be relieved to hear that Sen. Dianne Feinstein is coming to your rescue. On Thursday, she introduced a bill that promises you even more money to take care of your ballooning backlog. The average wait for naturalization is now 14 months, more than twice what it was 10 years ago.

I’m now at 16 months and counting. So I called your new toll-free customer service number ([800] 375-5283) to get an update. A sweet woman with a Southern accent answered so fast I was shocked--in less than a minute.

Here’s the weird part. She said I needed to write to you guys to reschedule my interview, even though the notice says you’d get back to me. The notice doesn’t say I should request a new appointment.

“It won’t tell you that,” said the nice lady, resigned to the absurdity.

See why people get irritated? It’s like dealing with a Third World bureaucracy. And I know cases a lot more muddled and maddening than mine. At least you haven’t lost my file yet.

So I’m going to write you that letter requesting a new interview. Perhaps the 2004 presidential election will be more interesting.

Agustin Gurza’s column appears Tuesday. Readers can reach Gurza at (714) 966-7712 or agustin.gurza@latimes.com