‘English only’ measure stokes frustration

Retiree Sam Jones wakes up each day and puts his graying hair in a ponytail, a .45-caliber automatic on his right hip and the U.S. Constitution in his back pocket.

He is a man who knows how to make a statement.

So for Jones, and others like him in this desert outpost, it was a no-brainer when town leaders wanted to send a message to its growing immigrant community.

“This is America, and in America we speak English,” Jones, 55, said of his interpretation of Pahrump’s new English Language and Patriot Reaffirmation ordinance. “Old Glory has got to be flown on top.”

By approving the new law this month, a town best known for its proximity to legal whorehouses thrust itself into the nation’s immigration debate.

The burgeoning bedroom community 60 miles down a two-lane road from Las Vegas made English its official language and put limits on the display of foreign flags.

The new ordinance does little, if anything, to change business in Pahrump. But it has done much to reveal frustrations simmering beneath the surface of a town in transition.

“This isn’t just about Hispanics, it’s about anyone who is different, anyone who comes from a different community,” said Henry Amaya, 23, a Latino who recently moved to Pahrump from California. “People should be able to speak whatever language they want to.”

Since the debate over federal immigration reform fired up in the spring, several local governments have taken their own first steps. English is now the official language of Taneytown, a central Maryland town of 5,000, and Farmers Branch, a Dallas suburb. This month, voters approved a measure making English the official language of Arizona.

Opponents liken the measures to Jim Crow laws.

“Language is linked to race and culture,” said Anita Revilla, an assistant professor of women’s studies at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas. “This is a civil rights issue.”

Supporters of Pahrump’s new law say its intent is to encourage assimilation, although they acknowledge it’s more symbolism than substance. The ordinance provides exceptions for any communication that the federal government requires to be translated, meaning few, if any, changes.

The county sheriff said he wouldn’t enforce the law.

“You’ve heard of a paper tiger, this is paper kitten. You can’t enforce it,” said Nye County Sheriff Tony DeMeo. “The flag has been considered a statement of freedom of expression. If someone wants to fly one there’s not too much you can do to tell them to take it down.”

But it’s the subtext that troubles the town’s Latino community.

Media attention has some here confused and intimidated, said Carmen Ruiz, a real estate agent.

The phrase, “English only,” has people wondering whether they are allowed to speak Spanish on the streets, she said.

“The law doesn’t bother me, but it’s what people are saying about it. What bothers me is that people who don’t speak the language, they feel threatened and afraid,” she said.

About 11% of Pahrump’s 33,241 residents are Latino, according to state figures.

The number has been growing steadily, like the town, as retirees and young families cross the desert looking for a better life at a cheaper price. They come from Las Vegas and California. They find inexpensive homes and a quieter lifestyle.

Driven by the housing boom in Pahrump, Nye County was the sixth-fastest-growing county in the nation last year.

There are growing pains, DeMeo said.

Nye County had long clung to its dusty Western roots.

Prostitution is still legal in what for years had been a farming and ranching outpost and a refuge for loners who disdained the city. It’s not uncommon for some here to carry guns openly.

DeMeo, a New York transplant, said county leaders were seeing a clash of old priorities with demands of new necessities.

“We’re at a tipping point in the Pahrump Valley,” he said. “The voices that were loudest for a long time, their voices are slowly being silenced by people who are interested in the well-being of the whole community, in schools and safe neighborhoods.”

But DeMeo said it was a mistake to portray the new immigration ordinance as the work of a dying fringe group, as some had tried.

Three members of the board that voted for the measure were not elected but appointed by a Republican governor to replace members who had retired or, in one case, stepped down after being convicted of shoplifting at a Wal-Mart.

Michael Miraglia, the ordinance’s chief backer, was one of those appointed. The 67-year-old retired Illinois state worker, said the idea for the measure had been percolating for years. Television images of Latino protesters carrying Mexican flags at May Day rallies caused him to boil.

He said he thought Latino immigrants were different from people coming from other countries; they seemed to resist assimilating.

“I don’t know why -- maybe pride, maybe they don’t want to give up their culture, maybe they don’t want to become Americans,” he said.

When he was appointed to the town board, Miraglia’s first move was to search the Internet for models of other anti-illegal immigration ordinances.

He proposed a measure prohibiting businesses from accepting foreign identification, offering housing, or loaning or giving money to undocumented immigrants. He submitted his first draft with supporting materials that linked illegal immigrants to sex crimes.

Miraglia said he had no idea the issue would spark controversy, but fellow board member Richard Billman, an opponent, said he had no illusions.

“My first reaction? Well, it’s probably not repeatable, certainly not printable,” Billman said. “I knew the backup material ... would be something that would polarize the issue.”

The measure was watered down after the business community objected.

A section barring the city from providing social services to illegal immigrants, a moot point because the county provides nearly all such services, is the only mention of illegal immigration. The measure was dedicated to U.S. service members who lost their lives in battle.

But the tone lingered, Billman said.

The measure was approved at a contentious Nov. 14 meeting attended by only a few Latino residents. Some cried as the measure passed, 3 to 2.

“It’s an approval for people to say vile and degrading things to Hispanics. It’s one of those things that cannot be tolerated,” said Fernando Romero, a political activist who attended the meeting.

The American Civil Liberties Union has called the section of the law dealing with flag display a violation of the 1st Amendment and said it might sue.

Newly elected members of the town board who take office next month said they planned to rewrite it.

“Whatever measures we take, they have to be something that means something, and certainly they have to be constitutional,” board member-elect John McDonald said.

In the meantime, business people like Ruiz have found themselves in a new position of community leadership. She’s trying to educate Latinos about the ordinance, planning community meetings and encouraging people to report cases of discrimination or harassment.

“This is my town now. This is where I live, where I spend a lot of money. I’m not leaving, so I’ve got to do something about it,” she said.