Former IRC Board Member Norma Ramirez and current Ph.D. candidate in Clinical Psychology at Fuller Theological Seminary is hosting DACA Thriving Tuesdays, a webinar series of The Thrive Center for Human Development at Fuller Theological Seminary. Tune in weekly at 10a via Facebook Live from May 26, 2020 through June 23, 2020 for self-care tips and resources for undocumented individuals with or without DACA. For additional resources, Norma has released free self-care, mental health resources to foster thriving and resilience: https://thethrivecenter.org/resources/multidimensional-identities-of-the-undoc-generation/?fbclid=IwAR3-q6qoSFhdeEJ3lFBqn2-dvFz2eqOSz_5dPRwfplb_b3GVeYaBJ3hW744
Teresa has been living in the San Gabriel Valley for decades. She is undocumented and the IRC is helping her apply for for immigration relief due to a violent crime she endured. Teresa and her four children face many struggles.
Teresa's 20-year-long domestic violence marriage was suddenly halted last year when Teresa's husband left the state without a trace. With his absence, the abuse halted, but so did household income. Teresa has been a stay at home mother for her four children, one of whom has a disability and requires constant caregiving.
Teresa's oldest son was providing for the family until COVID-19 hit. Then his hours were cut, then his job altogether. He is not eligible for unemployment insurance. The family did not receive stimulus checks. Before the pandemic, Teresa described her family's favorite activities: going to the park, dancing baile folklorico, and going to the movies: they take joy in being together. Now Teresa is worried about getting food on her table and not being evicted. She told the IRC legal team what keeps her going during these hard times are her children. She fights for them daily. She has survived much hardship before and will survive this pandemic.
However, undocumented families desperately need financial support. Thankfully, the IRC was chosen to be a funnel for special emergency grants through the County of Los Angeles and the California Community Foundation for our immigrant neighbors in response to the COVID-19 pandemic. We were able to redistribute $2,000 to Teresa's family for direct financial relief. It is a small dent in the bills and missed rent piling up, but it brings comfort in the midst of uncertainty. Teresa's appreciation culminated in a phrase we hear from clients often,
"Que Dios le bendiga mucho por su trabajo."
May God bless you for your work.
We are mutually transformed by our work. We exist to serve alongside the immigrant community in their fight for justice and humanization. We empathize, not sympathize, with our clients, meaning we feel their pain.
During the pandemic and civil uprising, we are all feeling stretched, but we cannot stand idly by. Thank you for supporting our work and for supporting positive change in the lives of Teresa and her children, and so many others.
On Friday, the Immigration Resource Center of San Gabriel Valley and The Center for Racial Reconciliation at Fellowship hosted an exclusive online screening of “Status Pending,” a new documentary short film, along with a panel featuring the film’s producer-director Priscilla González Sainz and the lawyers she followed in her documentary. The Immigration Resource Center’s director of legal services, Jonathan Fung and immigration activist Dr. Alexia Salvatierra also participated on the panel.
“Status Pending” primarily offers a look into the lives of five incredibly hardworking immigration lawyers in Southern California: Araceli G. Guerrero, Jose Osorio, Alma D. Puente, Gladdys J. Uribe, and Elizabeth Uribe. Each of these attorneys began their own individual practices after finishing law school and now work tirelessly to assist their clients in gaining legal residence in the United States. Despite their practices being scattered across the state, the group remains a tightly-knit support system through constant online communication and occasional in-person meetups.
“Status Pending” excels at demonstrating the intense, almost paradoxical extremes that persist throughout immigration lawyers’ lives. They have the difficult job of balancing short-term crisis management with long-term problem-solving. The strength of this very special cadre of Mexican-american attorneys is cleverly represented throughout the film via text-message animations.
At times, hopelessness strikes the lawyers as they experience repeated setbacks and defeats, including sudden policy changes and chaos set in motion by a single tweet by the US President. Each admits to occasionally being tempted to quit and move to a career that doesn't’ cause them so much pain. Yet they always bounce back from moments of frustration to find a sense of hope for the future –– hope that policies and laws will favorably change, that clients will reunite with their families, that their actions can actively make the world a better place. This exhausting cycle of hope and hopelessness makes the lawyers’ work unenviable and all the more admirable.
González Sainz also paints a brief yet vivid portrait of the people that the lawyers represent. Over the course of only 26 minutes, we see one longtime U.S. resident successfully gain citizenship, while another is placed in detention for so long that he ultimately opts to leave the country. One of the most heartbreaking details from this case: is when the client’s lawyer must advise the man’s son and daughter to pack him a suitcase because he won’t be able to return home in the foreseeable future. Examination of the clients' cases in the film highlights the inefficiency of the United States’ immigration system, as the process to obtain legal residence took many clients over 20 years to complete.
The filmmaker panel revealed a number of intriguing insights into the project. González Sainz explained that she was initially inspired to shoot the film following the 2016 election, as anti-immigrant policies and sentiment increased throughout the country. González Sainz witnessed the inspiring work of her sister, attorney Araceli G. Guerrero, and decided to tell the story of Guerrero and her colleagues. Since each of the lawyers is first-generation Mexican-American, González Sainz saw the unique opportunity to depict first-generation professionals and their immense impact on California’s immigrant communities.
Without fail, each attorney cited their parents as primary inspirations for pursuing immigration law and for participating in the documentary. Elizabeth Uribe explained, “I chose this career to be able to continue lending a helping hand to those that come after me.” Gladdys J. Uribe expressed a similar sentiment, saying, “the person sitting across from us could be our parents however many years ago.”
“Status Pending,” which was funded through the Tribeca Film Institute’s If/Then Short Documentary Program and the National Association of Latino Independent Producers, will continue screening at film festivals throughout the summer. After that, González Sainz hopes to arrange a wide release for the film. If you find the opportunity to watch it, I strongly recommend this film –– it’s a beautifully eye-opening tribute to underappreciated public servants and the people they help.
Featured as part of our Donor Profile Series, Bonnie James explains why she gives to the work of the IRC. Read her interview below:
Monthly donations like Bonnie’s allow the IRC to ensure low-cost immigration legal aid services in the San Gabriel Valley and beyond, as well as educational events and connections to local community resources. For as little as $25/month you can underwrite the cost of legal services for one immigrant family. Become a monthly donor today!
Q: Can you tell us more about how you and your husband approach your giving?
My husband and I grew up in church settings and were taught about tithing and how that kind of giving helps fund community outreach. My husband gave 10% of his earnings to charities the moment he began his first job at age fourteen. We think of budgeting for donations as equally important as budgeting for our bills, because we know the value that organizations like the IRC add to the world.
Q: What would you say to younger donors who have student debt and feel they can't give?
If there is an organization that you believe in and want to give to, such as IRC, it’s okay to start with giving a small amount, like five dollars a month. I have also found in non-profit work, there is always work to be done. If you really can’t afford to donate money, see if there is volunteer work you could do. A gift of time can be just as valuable as a monetary gift.
Q: What’s the emotional component to donating for you?
I grew up in a home where domestic violence was present. I know what it feels like to need help and not know who is safe to ask for that help. I am fortunate enough to be in a position now where I can give financially, and I want to pay things forward so that people are not left without the help they need. I can’t help everyone in all the ways I want to, so it’s immensely gratifying knowing my donations help do work in areas I want to see improvements made – like immigration support.
Q. Your method for choosing how you give is really creative! How do you decide who to give to regularly?
We’ve decided to tier our giving at local, national and international levels. We look for how the money is being spent. Online resources disclose budgets and senior staff pay, but we also check on how the organization engages with its target audience. In cases like domestic violence where anonymity is required, it can be a little less transparent, but generally we monitor how an organization engages with the community it serves. Small organizations like the IRC are so great because just about everything goes to the causes and people they help.
