Measure to curb
undocumented pushes rich, poor to work together
PRINCE WILLIAM (By Pamela Constable, Washington Post) October
9, 2007 Josι Marinay wears tailored suits, plays
racquetball twice a week and displays photos of family-owned racehorses in his
Annandale office. For years, the Colombian-born businessman thought he had
little in common with the area's undocumented, often villagers from Mexico and
Central America who sleep 10 to a house and push lawn mowers or scrub pots for a
living.
But the battle in Prince William County, where a measure to
curb illegal immigration has thrown the Hispanic community into turmoil, changed
his mind.
"This situation has brought together people who never would
have sat in one room before," said Marinay, 50, who owns a real estate
settlement company that has offices across Northern Virginia and a mainly
Hispanic clientele. Since the measure was passed in July, he said, business has
fallen 80 percent at his Manassas office, and he will probably close it. He also
said a sense of growing hostility toward Hispanic immigrants has affected him.
"I dress well, and I drive a nice car. But on the weekends,
when I am in shorts and sandals and I haven't shaved, I look Hispanic enough to
scare a few folks," Marinay said. "There is a definite chill in the air. We may
be a fragmented community, we may eat or celebrate in different places, but now
they are looking at us in the same way. If we don't unite and work together, we
will all sink."
Sense of siege and solidarity
Though not yet enacted into law, the resolution passed by the
Prince William Board of County Supervisors has created a sense of siege and
solidarity throughout the county's wider Hispanic community of about 30,000.
Rumors circulate that people will be arrested if they board buses or drop off
their children at school. Some legal residents, who bought homes and opened
businesses, expecting to stay for years, say they are thinking of leaving.
"When we came to Manassas 20 years ago, it was a beautiful
place. We were full of enthusiasm and optimism. But in the last three months,
that has all gone away," said Carlos Alvarado, 45, a Salvadoran immigrant whose
variety store sells fresh corn tamales, piΒΏatas and frilly girls' dresses. Many
customers are too broke or scared to shop, he said. "Everyone is talking about
moving to Maryland or North Carolina, and I am almost bankrupt."
Sponsors and advocates of the resolution assert it is neither
anti-Hispanic nor anti-immigrant. They insist it is aimed at stopping the steady
influx of undocumented during the past decade, who they complain are crowding
neighborhoods and burdening schools. The measure would deny some services to
undocumented and allow local police to turn them over to federal officials.
At first, the region's Hispanic community was conflicted in
its response, reflecting differences in class, education levels, immigration
status, national origin and ideological roots. Within the business community,
potential allies saw each other as economic rivals first.
The split was exacerbated by the confrontational actions of a
group in Virginia, Mexicans Without Borders, that staged a number of protests
against the measure, including a one-week store boycott in August. The group has
called for a one-day countywide work stoppage today. Last month, the group put
up a huge Liberty Wall in Manassas with a sign that condemns "racism against
Hispanics." The sign was half torn down by vandals last weekend.
Many established Hispanic immigrants in Northern Virginia said
they disapproved of such tactics, saying they feared the efforts would turn
community goodwill against them, too. But as the firestorm over illegal
immigration has spread, more affluent Hispanics in the area, including
entrepreneurs from Colombia and Venezuela, have come to realize they have a
personal and economic stake in resolving the issue.
Use of lobbying, economic power
In August, a regional Hispanic business coalition was formed
to seek subtler ways to fight anti-immigration measures, such as through
personal lobbying and economic power. Coalition leaders said that it was hard to
get some entrepreneurs involved but that more are being spurred to action by a
mixture of self-interest, guilt and sympathy for those they once considered a
lower class of immigrant.
"This is definitely not business as usual. If people can't buy
groceries, they can't buy cars or houses," said Marinay, a coalition official.
Other members work in real estate, banking, entertainment and insurance. "We are
a wealthy group, and we have invested millions in this region," he said. "Why
can't we get these people off our backs? It's our own fault for not being
united."
Ricardo Juarez, a leader of Mexicans Without Borders, said
that despite their tactical differences, he has come to appreciate the efforts
of Marinay's committee. At a county hearing last Tuesday, Juarez and several
Hispanic business owners testified against the resolution, using nearly
identical arguments and similarly polite tones.
"We can march. They can lobby. We are each doing our part,"
Juarez said later. "We all want to solve the problem, and we all have to coexist
in the community."
Ruben Andrade, who owns several cafes and clubs in Prince
William, embodies the contradictions that have pulled successful Hispanics in
several directions on illegal immigration. A war refugee who came to the United
States 25 years ago, he worked menial jobs and faced his share of
discrimination. Now, he prides himself on running stylish establishments and
criticizes Hispanic laborers who pick fights in bars and throw trash in the
streets.
"We need to educate our people," Andrade said. "If your
neighbor asks you to pick up your garbage, you don't tell them to go to hell.
You need to learn English and respect the rules." On the other hand, he said,
"this law will hurt the entire community. It is not against undocumented; it is
against all Hispanics, and we must fight it together."
Fear of arrest, harassment
In Maryland, where attitudes toward immigrants have been more
relaxed, at least one measure similar to Prince William's has been proposed in
the city of Frederick, and Hispanic leaders throughout the state's suburbs are
increasingly worried that the illegal immigration controversy will engulf the
region.
A handful of Hispanic businessmen in Montgomery and Prince
George's counties have joined meetings of the Virginia coalition. Gilbert Mejia,
a Salvadoran restaurant owner, was the host of a recent meeting at his La
Frontera restaurant in Gaithersburg. He said the fear of arrest and harassment
among Hispanic immigrants has become so widespread that business at his
restaurant has fallen sharply this summer.
"Look at this place. Normally, we would be full for lunch,"
said Mejia, gesturing around a room full of empty tables. "People are afraid the
attitude from Prince William will drift here, that Maryland will be the next
target. I have been in this country 27 years, and I've invested hundreds of
thousands of dollars. We need to know what's coming our way."
In Prince William, many immigrants who have never joined a
protest or a committee, but have spent years quietly securing a niche for their
families, find themselves drawn to the unfamiliar fray of public debate. Last
Tuesday, about 200 Hispanics filled an overflow room outside a supervisors
meeting in which the July resolution was being discussed, although a final vote
was postponed.
One was Jesus Calva, 40, who lives with his wife and two
children in Lake Ridge, a woodsy townhouse community. Calva entered the United
States illegally as a teenager and started working as a tree trimmer for $3 an
hour. Today, he makes $27 an hour with a large construction company, and he
helped rebuild the Pentagon after the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attack. On his
living room wall is a certificate of thanks signed by former defense secretary
Donald H. Rumsfeld.
"I have always
appreciated this country, and it really upsets me to hear about this law," said
Calva, who spoke briefly at last Tuesday's hearing. Afterward, he strode
outside, sat down on a curb and began to weep in frustration. "Even when I was
illegal, I worked hard for everything I got, and I paid a lot of taxes," he
said. "If they don't like us, why don't they just say so? I love my home, but I
don't want to live in a place where I am hated."
