A Disabled Son
Imperils Family's
Immigration Hope
Igor's Parents Pay Medical Bills
But What If They Die?
Becoming 'Public Charge'
Learning to Love the Beatles
By MIRIAM JORDAN
December 27, 2006; Page A1
MARTHA'S VINEYARD, Mass. -- Zandro Souza, an immigrant from Brazil, rose in six years from being a restaurant dishwasher who barely spoke English to a successful chef in upscale restaurants here on Martha's Vineyard. Last year, after a long bureaucratic journey, Mr. Souza and his wife, Fernanda, were tantalizingly close to winning green cards that would let them remain in the U.S.
WALL STREET JOURNAL VIDEO
See video of Zandro Souza and other immigrants speaking at a Thanksgiving luncheon hosted by the Massachusetts Immigrant and Refugee Advocacy coalition. Mr. Souza begins speaking about two minutes into the clip.But during a final interview with a U.S. immigration official in Providence, R.I., the Souzas' five-year effort to win legal status hit a wall. "I have no problem approving you and your wife," Mr. Souza says the official told him. "But I need more information about your son."
The Souzas' 11-year-old son, Igor, is blind and developmentally delayed. His condition requires countless doctor visits, frequent runs to the emergency room and more than $1,000 a month in medication. Mr. Souza says he has paid almost all of Igor's medical bills -- about $20,000 annually -- out of pocket, without insurance or help from government programs. He feared accepting aid would jeopardize his family's attempt to gain permanent U.S. residency.
According to Mr. Souza, the immigration official told him that if Mr. Souza and his wife died, their son could become a "public charge." Although the family tried to prove that Igor would be cared for if his parents passed away, the U.S. government earlier this year denied green cards to the couple and their son and placed them in deportation proceedings. This time the government cited another reason for rejection -- that they applied for and entered on tourist visas but intended to stay permanently.
"If this were only about me, I would throw in the towel" and return to Brazil, says Mr. Souza, 30 years old. "But I want the best for my son."
The Souzas' story shows how compassion can collide with hard-nosed financial considerations as the U.S. decides which immigrants should be admitted and which should be turned back. The Souzas rose through hard work and paying their own way. Yet they also hurt their case by entering the country on a false pretext, although many immigrants who later gain U.S. citizenship do the same.
Admitting productive, self-reliant people has long been a goal of U.S. immigration policy. The Immigration Act of 1891, one of the country's first efforts to regulate immigration, allowed the exclusion or deportation of any individual deemed to be a burden on the public purse, referring to "idiots, insane persons, paupers, or persons likely to become a public charge."
At Ellis Island, newcomers inspected by public-health officials and deemed unfit were returned to their country of origin. Steamship lines were often fined for having ferried them to the U.S. Later, legal immigrants from Mexico and Asia faced similar scrutiny on entering from the West.
A 1996 federal law says immigrants must be legal U.S. residents for five years before they qualify for Medicaid, which pays medical expenses for the poor. However illegal immigrants cannot be refused emergency medical care.
Between 1921 and 1930, 10,703 foreigners were deported on public-charge grounds. In more recent years, the government has cited other more basic reasons for forcing someone to leave, such as having entered the country illegally.
In 2005, 75,532 foreigners were deported for entering the U.S. without proper documents or through fraud or misrepresentation. Public charge was the official reason for only 824 out of the total 208,521 deportations that year.
Illegal-immigrant children are entitled to attend public schools, and special-needs children receive the same services as other students. In recent years, however, the escalating cost of providing education to children with special needs has fueled clashes between advocates for disabled students and those concerned that they are draining already-limited school budgets.
In Massachusetts about 16.5% of the state's student population receives special education. The cost of educating these children is increasing faster than for mainstream students and placing a financial burden on many school districts, according to school administrators.
Shawn Saucier, a spokesman for U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services, says privacy laws prevent the agency from commenting on the Souzas' case. "However, if we were talking to a couple who had a son with disabilities, we would have to be satisfied that the child would not become a public charge," he says.
James R. Edwards Jr., an adjunct fellow with the Hudson Institute, a conservative Washington think tank, says the public-charge concept is rooted in this country's emphasis on self-sufficiency. "We aren't interested in taking foreign countries' criminals ... and certainly not those unable to support themselves," says Mr. Edwards, who favors restricting immigration.
As for the Souzas, he says, "My heart goes out to the family and the kid." However, he says, the U.S. already contends with "native-born Americans who face the same kind of crisis, with their children being ill and suffering disease."
Mr. Souza and his wife met as teenagers in 1990 in Cuparaque, a small Brazilian town. In 1994, Fernanda, then 17, became pregnant and the couple decided to marry.
Igor was born on March 1, 1995. At seven months, he was diagnosed with congenital toxoplasmosis, caused by a parasite that is present in uncooked meat and the fecal matter of cats. Transmission to the fetus can cause severe problems, including mental retardation, seizures, blindness, and even death. Doctors believe that Ms. Souza was infected by the cats in her grandmother's home, and Igor contracted the condition from his mother during pregnancy.
The couple soon realized that Igor's condition would require careful management and virtually around-the-clock monitoring, not to mention a panoply of special drugs. The Souzas had access to free care through Brazil's vast public health-care network, but the large hospitals and long waiting lists were difficult to navigate. To get Igor to the doctor, Fernanda rose at 4 a.m., taking two buses to line up just to make an appointment for a month later. The family couldn't afford private care on Mr. Souza's $300 a month salary working in a restaurant.
The Souzas saw an answer thousands of miles to the north, on Martha's Vineyard where Brazilian immigrants are the backbone of the local tourism industry. In 1989, Mr. Souza's father, José, found summer work in a restaurant called the Navigator, eventually settling here in 1997.
Fernanda and Zandro Souza (left) with their son, Igor, who is blind, in Boston.
In 2000, Mr. Souza arrived in the U.S. on a six-month tourist visa. He joined his father at the restaurant, rising to become daytime chef. His hourly wage doubled to $17. At night, he worked a second job up the street at the Harbor View Hotel's Coach House, one of Martha's Vineyard's finest restaurants. Mr. Souza moved swiftly from dishwasher to sauté cook to lead line cook, overseeing all the workstations in the kitchen. "He has a passion," says Jim Moore, the restaurant's food and beverage director, who took Mr. Souza to demonstrate his cooking -- including his mini lobster rolls -- at the upscale Tribeca Grill in New York City.
In early 2001, Mr. Souza brought his wife and son to the U.S. The two took an overnight van to Rio de Janeiro, where an official at the U.S. consulate issued them tourist visas.
Igor started kindergarten at the Oak Bluffs School, where he was assigned a special assistant, as well as occupational and physical therapy. About 400 students attend Oak Bluffs School, where Igor today is in the fifth grade. About 20% of them require special-education services. However, "only three or four have the level of need requiring a one-on-one assistant" such as Igor, says James Weiss, Martha's Vineyard school superintendent. Mr. Weiss estimates it costs more than $40,000 to educate Igor annually compared with $15,000 for "regular" students.
"He certainly is a youngster who impacts our budget in a significant way," says Dr. Weiss. However, "it's both our legal and moral obligation to help students who have identified needs."
As Igor mastered English, story time and music became his favorite classes. He began singing Beatles songs. A poem he wrote in Braille with the help of his teacher reads, "My favorite song is 'Yesterday.'" A lanky, curly-haired boy, Igor recently entertained teachers and classmates in the hallway with a rendition of "Hey Jude."
Initially, the family relied on friends to drive them to Boston for appointments with Blaise Bourgeois, a neurologist at Children's Hospital Boston. The consultations, every four or five months, cost the couple about $350 each, which they paid out of pocket according to bills and receipts reviewed by The Wall Street Journal.
Igor also required a special dentist, nutritionist, endocrinologist and frequent visits to his pediatrician. Every three months or so, Igor suffered a seizure that landed the Souzas in the emergency room of the Martha's Vineyard Hospital. One of his worst episodes, Christmas Eve in 2003, lasted 45 minutes. The emergency-room visits have cost between $1,500 and $2,500 each. Mr. Souza says Igor's medical bills this year are about $16,000; in previous years they have risen as high as $20,000.
Mr. Souza says he pays for his son's doctor visits and prescription medication on the spot. Mr. Souza says he still owes $4,000 to the hospital for emergency-care visits. "If I can't pay in one lump sum, I make sure and send a check in every month -- even if it's just for $100 or $300," says Mr. Souza.
Mr. Souza, his wife and son live with Mr. Souza's parents and other relatives in a three-bedroom house owned by Mr. Souza's father. Mr. Souza earns $5,000 to $6,000 a month; about 27% of that is deducted in taxes from his weekly paycheck. He contributes $600 a month to his parents' mortgage.
In 2001, Mr. Souza sought to take advantage of a temporary immigration law, known as Section 245i, to apply for an employer-sponsored green card for himself and his family. The bill allowed immigrants to adjust their status from within the U.S., even if they had overstayed their visas or entered the country illegally. Employers regarded the program as an opportunity to legalize their work force, while critics said it was tantamount to amnesty.
Alan Counsell, then manager of the Navigator restaurant, had previously agreed to sponsor Mr. Souza's father and mother. He agreed to sponsor the Souza family as well. "It was a small repayment" for their dedication, he says. "Anything I asked of them they gave me."
Mr. Counsell followed the requirement to place advertisements in the newspaper, to show that qualified chefs -- like Mr. Souza -- weren't readily available on the Vineyard. Mr. Souza paid for the ads -- and over the next few years paid almost $10,000 in fees to lawyers and the U.S. government.
In July 2003, the Souzas received notification that their employment authorization was being processed. Mr. Souza was thriving professionally, earning a reputation as a fine seafood cook and collecting employee awards. He acquired hundreds of cookbooks, which he says helped him improve his English. His favorite chef is the well-known New York restaurateur Mario Batali, whose picture on the cover of a 2002 edition of Gourmet Magazine Mr. Souza pinned to a wall.
Mr. Souza's son, who shares a bedroom with his parents, refuses to go to sleep before his father arrives home from work each night. On Mondays, Mr. Souza's only day off, the father picks up his son from school and treats him to pizza. On Sundays, the family dresses up for evening services at the local Brazilian evangelical church, where Igor sways and chants spiritual songs.
In 2004, the Souza family was fingerprinted and issued Social Security numbers and work permits, "I felt like the gates to freedom were opening," recalls Mr. Souza. "The only thing missing was the interview." The family was summoned to Providence for an 8 a.m. interview on May 13, 2005, the final step in the process.
Mr. Souza was nervous but hopeful. He and his wife took an oath to tell the truth, he recalls. They began answering questions from the adjudicator. Among them was the question of why the family had come to the U.S. Mr. and Mrs. Souza told the official that they had come here to make a better life.
As Igor squirmed in his chair and babbled in Portuguese, the immigration adjudicator turned to Mr. Souza and asked whether he relied on the U.S. government for the child's care. Mr. Souza answered without hesitation: "No."
Mr. Souza recalls the adjudicator then asking: "So you pay for his schooling?"
Mr. Souza answered hastily -- failing to explain that while his son attended public school, he paid for Igor's health care himself.
Then the immigration official voiced concern that the son would become a public charge if his parents passed away, Mr. Souza recalls. The Souzas left the room clutching a form letter with Igor's name filled in at the top. In the space next to 5, "PLEASE SUBMIT THE FOLLOWING," the official had written: "I-864 from your father Zandro Souza showing evidence you will not become a public charge." They had 12 weeks to supply the documentation.
"I can't even remember driving home," says Mr. Souza.
According to U.S. immigration policy, an applicant can overcome a public-charge inadmissibility issue by providing sufficient evidence that he or she is unlikely to become a public charge. This evidence can be a posted as a bond, an "affidavit of support" from friends or family, personal funds, or an offer of employment.
The Souzas set out to prove that, in the event of a tragedy, Igor would be cared for by their family, not the government. Mr. Souza sent evidence that his father's house on Martha's Vineyard -- bought for $265,000 several years earlier and now worth about $500,000 -- could be put in a trust in Igor's name if his parents died. It could then be sold, if necessary, to cover his health expenses. Some immigration attorneys question why the government requested an affidavit of support in the Souzas' case, because the family was being sponsored by an employer who already serves as a financial guarantor.
But this soon became a moot point. In January 2006, immigration authorities denied green cards to each member of the Souza family and ordered them to appear in court for deportation proceedings. The government was no longer raising the "public charge" issue. Rather, the government notice stated that Mr. Souza, his wife and Igor had come to the U.S. on six-month tourist visas in violation of U.S. law because their actual intention was to stay in the U.S. for good.
"I felt an empty feeling, like everything had been in vain," recalls Mr. Souza.
Mr. Saucier, the spokesman for immigration, says: "We don't look for one reason and deny the case. We issue it for all reasons applicable to the application."
While they wait for their deportation hearing in February, Mr. Souza continues to pay for Igor's health care. Early this month, the family paid $643.98 for two antiseizure drugs, according to receipts reviewed by the Journal.
Mr. Souza says that if his family receives their green cards, he will continue to pay for his son's medical costs. As new legal residents, the Souzas won't qualify for Medicaid for five years under current immigration law. And Mr. Souza's current income level already puts the family well above the poverty limit for Medicaid.
That's why Mr. Souza says he wants to cook for a larger restaurant or one owned by a chain. Those restaurants, he notes, offer health insurance.
Write to Miriam Jordan at
miriam.jordan@wsj.com
"I used to be on an endless run.
Believe in miracles 'cause I'm one.
I have been blessed with the power to survive.
After all these years I'm still alive."
Joey Ramone, em uma das minhas músicas favoritas ("I Believe in Miracles")