"This
is our civil rights movement," Saenz said. "I guess it's our turn now.
What the blacks did in the '60s, I guess we are going to do in the
2000s."
For Enrique Bautista, a turning point came last year at a Franklin driver's license office.
A worker took his Tennessee-issued ID and U.S. government-issued green
card and disappeared for 20 minutes. When she came back, it was to say
she'd be keeping the documents on suspicion they were fake. Bautista, a legal permanent resident, was stunned. He'd never been
in trouble with the law. He'd raised five children in the United
States, working hard here for decades.
But with no ID of any
kind, Bautista would be unable to visit family in Mexico for Christmas
or even leave the house without fear.
So, last month, he sued the
Tennessee Department of Safety and joined the ranks of Tennessee
Latinos filing civil rights lawsuits against state and local
governments. They're claiming policies and actions are directly aimed
at making Tennessee a less attractive place to settle, even for legal
immigrants.
Observers and the plaintiffs themselves say the suits are the
strongest evidence so far of a social turning point — a refusal to keep
living anonymously and in fear.
"I wanted justice," said
Bautista, a 60-year-old construction worker who lives in Franklin. "I
just want justice … and to be able to get my license in peace."
A
Department of Safety spokesman wouldn't comment directly on the case
but said, in general, it is the agency's policy to investigate
suspicious documents.
Three major cases have been filed this year
alone: Bautista's, one against Metro government over a proposed
English-only amendment, and one against the governor and Davidson
County Clerk's Office over marriage licenses.
"No less than
Thomas Jefferson said all men are created equal and are endowed by
their creator with certain infallible rights," said immigration
attorney Elliott Ozment, who is representing Bautista. "The reality is
that all people who are present in this country — legally or
undocumented — have certain fundamental rights."
There could be
more to come. Ozment said measures such as the state's new Illegal
Alien Employment Act and Davidson County's 287(g) program — which gives
local deputies limited authority to enforce federal immigration law —
are driving ordinary immigrants to call the government on its promise.
'Our civil rights movement'
For lawyer Vanessa Saenz, the turning point was a series of phone calls
from people looking for help but unwilling to formally protest their
inability to obtain a Tennessee marriage license. When the same thing
happened to Saenz, a U.S. citizen from Puerto Rico engaged to an
immigrant, she sued Gov. Phil Bredesen and Davidson County Clerk John
Arriola. She and her fiancé were denied a marriage license when he
couldn't produce a Social Security card.
County clerks in
Tennessee have asked for a Social Security card since 1998, or, failing
in that, a valid passport and visa. Saenz's fiancé had only a passport.
Tennessee’s policy was enacted as part of a federal initiative to make
it easier to track parents who failed to pay child support.
Saenz
has taken calls in her office for years from people in her same
situation. She's even heard stories about a Kentucky judge just over
the Tennessee line who has set up an entire marriage market to serve
Tennesseans who cross the state line looking for a place where those
without Social Security cards can marry.
She hired one of
Nashville's best-known civil rights lawyers, George Barrett, and filed
suit, claiming the policy was affecting the ability of Tennessee
residents to exercise a constitutionally protected right.
"This
is our civil rights movement," Saenz said. "I guess it's our turn now.
What the blacks did in the '60s, I guess we are going to do in the
2000s."
The case came to an end in May after the attorney general
essentially agreed with Saenz in court documents. He instructed every
county clerk in the state to stop denying marriage licenses to those
who could not provide Social Security cards.
Will lawsuits spur change?
There is no doubt that states now are seen as the battleground for
what could not be accomplished by legislators in Washington, said
Jessica Vaughan. She's a senior policy analyst with the Center for
Immigration Studies, a Washington-based research organization that
advocates for stricter immigration policies.
Vaughan said the
unintended consequences of such policies around the country have begun
to surface. But that is not a reason to roll those policies back
completely, she said.
"No law or legislation is ever perfectly
surgical in its application and its impact," Vaughan said. "That's not
completely to say that the ends justify the means, but it sounds like
some of these things ... are more of a management problem than a
conceptual problem."
It's tough to say whether the lawsuits can
launch a major change in political consciousness among Tennessee
Latinos, said Efren Perez, a Vanderbilt
University political scientist. Most of them are new to the state,
whereas other states such as California and Texas have a
multigenerational presence.
Still, there's evidence to suggest
that a 1990s-era California proposal that limited illegal immigrants'
access to a number of public services — later found unconstitutional —
galvanized Latino political participation and enhanced the sense of
group concern.
"The message that people who are behind these
policies — people who support them and people who pass them — the
messages they are intending may not be the message that people
receive," Perez said. "Feeling unwelcome does not mean that you are
going to pack up and go home."
Man refused to sign notice
For Bautista, who speaks only limited English, interacting with
government agencies is always an anxiety-filled experience. He went to
the Franklin driver's license office in November 2007 and failed the
exam. When he came back eight days later to try again, as instructed,
workers took the cards and asked him to sign a "notice of document
seizure."
He refused.
"I told her that I wouldn't sign,
that it wasn't right," Bautista said. "They are the driver's license
office. They don't have the right to confiscate my green card, my ID
maybe, but not my green card. I told her I wouldn't sign."
In January, the office sent a letter acknowledging Bautista's documents were legal. It asked him to come pick them up.
Contact Janell Ross at 615-726-5982 or jross1@tennessean.com.