Francisca Lino hears m from her room. Sometimes y kick door of church and ors shout, "We don't want cockroaches here!" He knows y say it for her, but he doesn't move. Close your eyes and stay still, almost petrified, in your orange-walled room, on first floor of United Methodist Church Adalberto. The building, stunted and dark brick, is its sanctuary. The place that gives shelter to racist fanatics that roam Hispanic neighborhoods of Chicago, but also in front of immigration agents who want to deport her and never dare to cross a sacred threshold. There he entered night of last August 23 fleeing an order of expulsion and re will remain until United States recognizes right to live on same ground as her husband and children.
Francisca, 46 years and quiet voice, is accustomed to walking uphill. Since 18th of July 1999 crossed Rio Bravo fleeing misery of Zacatecas (Mexico) has done nothing but work. First of cleaning and n in a chocolate wrapper factory. He has never committed a crime and has always paid his taxes. But nothing has served him. Although her husband and five children are Americans, administration has ordered his deportation: he does not forget that he tried to enter country with a false visa and was expelled.
"I was kicked out and that same day I paid coyote again and crossed again." Since n, I haven't been back to Mexico. And look, it was worth it because my daughters have been able to study, she says sitting on a church stool. In this space, between wooden crosses, unstitched Bibles and Food boxes, Francisca kills day. He hasn't been out in three months. The closest he's ever been is backyard. A sleepy plot where she is planted next to two unleafed poplars, looks at sky and sees storm that shakes United States.
In his 10-month term, President Donald Trump has launched a gigantic offensive against immigration. While many are waiting for wall to be built with Mexico, ir administration has erected a much stronger and more deterrent. A network of executive actions and legislative projects that is intended to empty country of foreigners. The figures--.
Under motto "Immigration is a privilege", Trump has put an end to program that prevented deportation of almost 700,000 dreamers (undocumented who came under and are fully integrated). It has also cut number of refugees from 110,000 to 45,000 a year and has given green light to a legislative project to reduce annual Green Cards grant (residence and employment permits) from one million to half a million. Not even those affected by disasters have been saved. The end of temporary protection Statute for 5,300 Nicaraguan and 50,000 Haitians has already been decreed, and y are awaiting a similar decision 86,000 Hondurans and 263,000 Salvadorans.Façade of United Methodist Church Adalberto, in Chicago. XAVIER DUSSAQ
All this has been accompanied by a hardening of persecution. Not only has he threatened to cut $4 billion in funds to cities that refuse to pursue without papers (from new York and Chicago to Los Angeles and Washington) but has ordered to hire 15,000 border agents more and has approved guidelines That allow expulsion of practically almost any undocumented.
Without building a meter of wall, America has become a pillbox. Getting out is easy, getting in less and fewer. The result is deterrent. The illegal crosses, according to White House, have fallen around 50% and have reached ir lowest point since 1970s.
Trump's rhetoric is a "wonderful success." Seen by those affected is hell. "I feel fear, here lives my far and my girlfriend, I have work and future, but I want to return to Mexico where y killed my cousins and kidnapped my sister," complains phone Omar Rosas, 29, undocumented who arrived in 2007. He is locked in Baton Rouge Prison (Louisiana) for driving a car with expired circulation license. You know that nothing else pays bail, immigration officers will deport you. "They'll kill me if y do."Magdalena González, Dreamer. Xavier Dussaq
It is a sentiment that Magdalena González shares from afar. When he was eight years old he crossed Sonoran desert with his parents. He entered illegally in Arizona and 20 years later he still has no residence permit. But that never slowed her down. While his mor scrubbed floors, she struggled to study. With private scholarships (to public I could not access), it took career of business administration and now it is coordinator of programs in Chamber of Commerce of Villita, in Chicago. He aspires to a master's degree but his dream has an expiration date: January 1, 2019. That day expires its legal coverage as dreamer. "My life has been suspended." They're going to leave me without a future. And why? Because y don't want those who are different. There was a time, with Obama, that we thought we were going to better. "But reality is that y do not accept us," says Magdalena.José Humberto Mora, Chicago activist. xd
The experience of rejection is general among migrants. They have been in United States for years and have not stopped feeling it. But now, everyone agrees, Storm has arreciado. They've never seen anything like this. "There is a gigantic effort by administration to create a bureaucratic wall, to radically change laws." "One can talk about a widespread racist attack," says Fernanda Durán, of home support entity. "Well, it's true that Trump generates panic and is obscene in his treatment of undocumented, but deportations and racism are not something new, y have a long existence." "Obama expelled more people than any previous president," adds activist José Humberto Mora.
Repression, whatever its origin, has multiplied. The undocumented suffer on a daily basis, some of m extreme. "Trump doesn't want us to have a better life," she summarizes with simplicity Francisca Lino. Today he has make-up and has earrings. But he admits that many days has a worse face. In evenings darkness plays mirrors with her and does not get to sleep. "I'm afraid of being afraid," he says.Francisca Lino's room in Sanctuary Church. X.D.
Francisca fears that someone should come in and separate her from her children and her husband forever. Just thinking about it stuns it. Take a deep breath and do things to distract yourself. Look at 12 dried roses her husband gave her and write some lines in her diary. Nothing deep. Paragraphs in which you remember that your granddaughter liked your pozole or that tomorrow is your eldest daughter's birthday. But that, sometimes, is not enough. Then he breas deep again and closes his eyes looking for sleep. It says to herself that nightmare cannot be true. That everything will be fixed and will be as it was before. Francisca, deep down, still believes in America. If only to dream.