Citizens in All But Name

By DAN GOODGAME

On the climb to middle-class acceptance, the Valenzuelas have all their tickets punched, save one. They own a growing used-tire shop and two cars. They rent a tidy, three-bedroom home in Los Angeles' San Fernando Valley. Their four children maintain B averages in public schools. They pay Social Security and income taxes and keep a clean credit rating. All the family lacks is permission to live in America.

The Valenzuelas entered illegally from Mexico, chasing their American dream through a hole in the border fence near Tijuana on a moonless autumn night almost ten years ago. In contrast to the popular image of transient workers cowering in fear of deportation, they are among a burgeoning number of illegal families who have sunk deep roots in hospitable American soil. They are granted nudge-and-a-wink acceptance by employers as well as government agencies.

After arriving in the U.S., Agustin (now just "Gus") Valenzuela, 40, held a variety of farm and factory jobs. "Nobody ever asked me for a 'green card' or resident's permit," he says, "just a Social Security number." Like most illegals, Valenzuela simply made up a number. (He was later able to get a legitimate number after applying for legal residency.) He was caught once by the INS while packing coleslaw in central Los Angeles and was bused across the border, but he sneaked back through the fence in time for work the next morning.

Valenzuela feels more secure now that he is working for himself, in a shop that he built from scrap lumber. He got a permit to sell used tires from a local policeman who knows the Valenzuelas are illegal. The officer assured the family that they can report crimes without fear of exposure. Los Angeles Police Commander William Booth explains, "If someone is a victim of crime, we need to know about it, and it's not our policy to inquire about their status."

Many state and local agencies take a similar approach. Both Valenzuela and his wife Elvira, 38, secured California drivers' licenses by showing their Mexican birth certificates and by passing a driving test and a written examination in Spanish. When the Valenzuelas registered their cars they needed no immigration documents. The same was true when they borrowed money from a major California bank, first to buy a car and later to nurture their business. "Anybody asks, I just say 'American citizen,' and I show them my driver's license and Social Security card," Valenzuela says.

The couple have three Mexican-born children and one, Enriqueta, who gained her coveted American citizenship the most direct way: born in the U.S.A. After her birth in 1977, Valenzuela filed a residency application, which is still pending. Such long waits are common. The Valenzuela children were enrolled in the Los Angeles public schools without any inquiry into their immigration status. After school, the boys, Ricardo, 16, and Jorge, 15, work in the family business, changing and repairing tires, while Leticia, 14, helps keep the books. The girls also do many of the household chores, because their mother badly twisted her back five years ago while lifting boxes at a local garment factory. Workmen's compensation paid for surgery on her spine, and her resident's status was never at issue.

For the Valenzuelas the greatest drawback to being illegal is not being able to visit relatives in Mexico. Their lawyer advised them that a trip across the border could prejudice their application for legal residency, since it might be taken as evidence that they are transients. A hearing on the Valenzuelas' application has finally been set for October. There is a risk of deportation if their application is denied, but Valenzuela is willing to gamble. "America is our home now, and we want to stay."