In Tragedy, an Emotional Surge in Citizenship Hopes

Requests for U.S. citizenship have soared this year, driven in large part by the emotional and legal ripple effects of the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, according to immigrants and those who counsel them on adjusting to the United States.

For many longtime residents, the tragic events stirred patriotic feelings, sparking long-delayed decisions to formalize their American identity and take the oath of citizenship. Others, anxious about the Justice Department’s more aggressive pursuit of immigration law violators, have sought shelter in legal protections that come only with citizenship.

Just Monday, Atty. Gen. John Ashcroft announced that the Justice Department would expect full compliance with a widely ignored rule that noncitizens report any address changes or risk criminal penalties, including possible deportation.

“I want to have rights in this country,” said Anacleto Nieves, 36, a Mexico native who is raising his family in Pico Rivera and recently became a citizen after 17 years in this country. “When you are an American citizen, you have security to stay in this country. It’s different when you are only a resident.”

Nieves took the oath of citizenship in May. His wife’s application is pending.

Nationally, requests for citizenship surged 65% during the eight months after Sept. 11, according to the Immigration and Naturalization Service, with a leap of more than 100% in Los Angeles. In May, the most recent month for which national figures are available, they jumped 121% from the same month in 2001.

Close observers trace the increase to all kinds of people. “It’s not based on ethnicity,” said J. Kevin Appleby, director of migration and refugee policy for the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops. “It’s not just Middle Easterners. It’s in all the immigrant communities.”

Nor is Sept. 11 the only cause. A 2001 law that streamlined the citizenship process for the children of those who take the oath may have encouraged some parents to move forward. Fee hikes for INS fingerprinting and citizenship applications that took effect in February, raising the combined cost from $250 to $310, touched off a mini-stampede the month before.

A flurry of high-profile mayoral races involving Latino candidates in Los Angeles, New York, Houston, San Antonio and other cities may also have inspired some immigrants to seek citizenship--and the right to vote.

“I think a lot of the buzz around those elections and around those candidates may have had an impact on immigrants’ decisions,” said Rosalind Gold, senior director of policy research and advocacy with the National Assn. of Latino Elected and Appointed Officials.

Not Feeling Welcome

On the street, some of these factors have blended together unpredictably. Antonio Martinez, 60, a factory worker from Cudahy who passed the citizenship exam Tuesday, said he interpreted recent INS fee increases as a sign of less-welcoming attitudes toward immigrants after Sept. 11. (In fact, the INS formally announced its plan on Aug. 8 to hike fees.)

“After the rates went up, I started to see that this country didn’t want any more people becoming citizens,” he said.

Martinez, who is from Mexico, said he was concerned that he would not be welcome in the United States if he did not become a citizen. But more than that, he said his decision reflected his gratitude for his adopted land.

“We love this country,” Martinez said. “This country opened its arms for us. This country gave us jobs. This country gave us schools. This country gave us everything. In my opinion, this is the best country in the world. I want to be part of it. You cannot be part of the country if you’re not a citizen.”

It is a conclusion that some immigrants reach only gradually. Martinez and others said they were wary of losing money to unscrupulous operators who prey on immigrant communities with promises of helping them gain citizenship.

The citizenship exam itself, which touches on U.S. history, government and English proficiency, can be a source of anxiety. Finally, some are reluctant to abandon dreams of returning to their homeland or demoting it to second place in their national allegiance.

When one immigrant makes the leap, it can motivate relatives or friends to follow suit. “For every new citizen, there’s often someone waiting in the wings,” said Jeff Chenoweth, division director for the Catholic Legal Immigration Network.

The number who have to wait has increased this year, as the INS has subjected applicants to more stringent criminal background checks. The number of requests approved from October through May (337,590) was down 10% from the year before, when the INS was reducing a big backlog.

‘We Weren’t Prepared’

For those who work closely with immigrants, this year’s surge in applications has been a surprise. Nelly Paredes, who runs the 605 Citizenship Project, named for a freeway corridor that cuts through many immigrant neighborhoods east of downtown Los Angeles, said its Saturday sessions used to draw 12 to 18 people. This year, the number is closer to 50.

“We weren’t prepared for all these people,” said Paredes, whose program in Santa Fe Springs coaches immigrants on the INS exam and their responsibilities as U.S. citizens. “I had to go out to buy more chairs. We now have 50 chairs.”

Nieves is among those who have recently filled those chairs. In an interview, the father of three said many immigrants initially put off the idea of becoming citizens: “All the people, when they come to this country, say, ‘I love my [home] country. I won’t change my country.’ But when time passes, you think different.”

Nieves said he could not help but notice that, after Sept. 11, the Justice Department detained and deported noncitizens who had not committed terrorism. “I don’t know what will happen in the future to other [noncitizens],” he said. “I want to have rights in this country. It’s hard. Somebody else can decide for you.”

Experts agree that noncitizens have become more vulnerable to deportation. To the surprise of immigrant advocates, the Justice Department this week made clear that noncitizens risked serious penalties if they failed to report changes of address within 10 days. For decades, immigrants have generally been allowed to ignore the 50-year-old rule.

Carl Shusterman, a former INS prosecutor, recalled that, when he left in the early 1980s, the agency had “just let it fall by the wayside, even though it was still on the books.”

Plan for Local Police

Immigrant advocates also are nervously following Justice Department plans to involve local police in the pursuit of certain immigrants whose names have been posted on a national criminal database.

“I just see this in every way--from the attorney general on down to the lowest person at INS--a real tightening up of control over people who are noncitizens, even in areas that have nothing to do with terrorism whatsoever,” maintained Shusterman, now an immigration lawyer in Los Angeles.

So far, today’s citizenship boomlet echoes a more massive movement in the mid-1990s, when millions who had been granted amnesty were becoming eligible to become citizens. Also at that time, an anti-immigrant backlash--symbolized by California’s Proposition 187, which would have closed off most state services to undocumented immigrants--galvanized many newcomers to seek their voting rights.

Applications for citizenship peaked at more than 1.4 million in 1997, although the actual number approved had topped out at more than 1 million the year before. By 1998, the numbers began to plunge, bottoming out at about 460,000 applications in 2000. The current pace, if maintained, would exceed 800,000 requests for the year, higher than all but the top years of the 1990s.

Return of ‘90s Anxieties

If the clamor for citizenship is starting to remind some of earlier years, so is the rising political anxiety of many immigrants.

“The apprehension that we saw in the middle 1990s is to a great extent reappearing now,” said Sergio Bendixen, a Miami-based pollster and political analyst. “I have seen a lot of it in focus groups. I have seen a lot of it in polling that I’ve done.”

As one barometer of fear, Bendixen in May asked a national sample of Latino voters whether they felt more or less secure in their daily lives since Sept. 11. Two-thirds of those who had been born outside the United States felt less secure, compared with half the overall sample.

“If you have an accent, if you’re from outside the United States, if you’re not a citizen, people fear that difficult times are coming,” Bendixen said.

Not that the current surge is driven only by fear. Greg Simons, who teaches a course on citizenship at Southwest College in Los Angeles, recalled how older students sometimes hesitated when he would ask their willingness to bear arms on behalf of the United States, a time-honored part of the oath.

But when he posed the question recently among a class whose median age is in the mid-40s, Simons said that “without any hesitation, everybody raised their hand and said yes. There is this higher sense of patriotism and defense of all that they’ve invested throughout their lives here.”

Just ask Martinez, the factory worker. Not only did he pass the exam last week, but so did his wife, Hortencia.

Two of his children were born in this country, and he hopes the other five will join them in citizenship soon.

“It’s a big celebration when you become a U.S. citizen,” Martinez said. “It’s good. It’s the best thing you can do in this life. You probably don’t know because you were born here. It’s nothing new for you.

“But to all of us who came from Mexico, without any money, without any jobs, without a house, it’s a big thing when you become an American citizen.”