8 February 29 - March 6, 2024 dallasobserver.com DALLAS OBSERVER Classified | MusiC | dish | Culture | unfair Park | Contents “That’s kind of the easy way and the pro- cess, which I hate, but it’s a very easy pro- cess to manage here,” Marquez said with an apologetic smile. “When we call ‘One!,’ I know that it’s one number that is going to be one, instead of three Josés or four Pedros.” (Yoiber was No. 2.) Questions swirled around Marquez from all directions, and she answered each one with patience and grace. Migrants who didn’t understand Spanish or English would communicate through a phone translation app. Some that day spoke only Russian or Creole. Marquez wasted no time getting every- one checked in. A conductor in a symphony of organized chaos, she moved with alacrity yet focused her full attention on whoever needed her help. As the migrants nibbled on snacks, chat- ted on their phones or stared off into space, a second busload of asylum seekers pulled up and entered the church. Now, roughly 40 immigrants filled the frenetic room. As far as Marquez knew, the shelters in Dallas are over capacity and are not accept- ing anyone else. “That’s the first thing that I told them here: Unfortunately, we’re not a shelter, but we try to help the process,” she said. That process looks something like this: After the welcoming center opens its doors, migrants can decompress. Volunteers serve meals and distribute donated clothing. (Jackets were a hot commodity this winter amid reports of immigrants sleeping on snowy streets in cities like Chicago, New York and Denver.) Asylum seekers are then helped with transportation, getting rides with volunteers to the bus station or airport. Oak Lawn United Methodist Church acts as an in-between point: the comforting space between the cold, indifferent deten- tion center and a new home. Buses arrive two or three times weekly and drop off around 300 people per week, Marquez said. Supplies dwindle quickly. The welcoming center is in constant need of donations, from financial assistance to back- packs to clothing to food. One sweet lady en- joys dropping off homemade cookies. Immigration is part of what makes the U.S. beautiful, Marquez said, yet misconcep- tions abound. “[Asylum seekers] are waiting for the courts, they are coming with a number. They are cleared by immigration, and they are cleared for any issues that people might be scared of,” she added. “These people are looking for an opportunity and chance to be here. … We need to remember that this country was founded by immigrants.” Migrants reaching the southern border have endured a long and arduous expedi- tion, said Shalaina Abioye, executive direc- tor of the Human Rights Initiative of North Texas. Most of these asylum seekers — whether because of social status, nationality, race, religion or political opinion — were driven from their homes out of a legitimate fear of persecution. That’s not to say the decision to venture to the U.S. was easy, nor that the ensuing landscape was kind. Many migrants carve out a path through Latin America, she said. But heading north can be unsafe, and vul- nerable migrants may encounter wrongdo- ers looking to exploit them along the way. “By the time they get to the United States, they have gone through the trauma of being persecuted in their country, the trauma of their pathway to the United States — that physical journey — and then just getting past the border is another extremely difficult thing for them to do as well,” Abioye said. “And so once they get here, we want to wel- come them with open arms, because we know to get here has taken a lot from them.” G ov. Greg Abbott assumed his place in front of the line of troops. His crisp white button-down contrasted with the get-up of the soldiers, who donned sun- glasses and camouflage and held guns. The Lone Star State, Abbott explained during the Feb. 16 news conference, would be introduc- ing a new approach to boosting its border security. “We are building a new Texas Military Department base camp that allows the Texas National Guard to increase and to im- prove operations in this area,” the Republi- can said. This, he added, would allow a greater number of personnel to work effi- ciently and effectively in Eagle Pass. Border operations have indeed turned more militant in recent years. GOP officials now favor combat terms, including “inva- sion” and “self-defense,” when describing immigration. Abbott drew fury in January after stating that Texas isn’t shooting mi- grants crossing the border because “the Biden administration would charge us with murder.” That same month, outrage soared after a woman and two children drowned in the Rio Grande while attempting to reach Texas; state military officers had reportedly blocked federal border agents from render- ing them aid. Claims of migrants getting slashed by ra- zor-wire barriers have horrified observers. Troopers were allegedly commanded to withhold water from parched pilgrims amid last summer’s brutal heat. Some border agents are more compas- sionate than others, said Abioye. Those who first clocked in between 2017 and 2021, when Trump was in the White House, may lean more hostile than humanitarian. Abioye’s organization provides legal ser- vices to people seeking asylum, but it lacks the resources and capacity to help everyone in need. “A lot of them will find themselves going from agency to agency and being turned away, saying, ‘Sorry, our caseloads are at a max. You have to go on a waiting list, and you have to wait until we have consultations open up,’” she said. “And then they go to the next organization and hear the same thing.” Whether an asylum case is successful may also depend on the state to which someone is headed. While more than two- thirds of cases were approved in New York’s immigration courts in fiscal year 2021, Texas gave the green light to only 39%, according to the Migration Policy Institute, a nonparti- san think tank. It also takes around 12 months for asylum hopefuls to receive employment authoriza- tion, Abioye said. Cases used to hit the court within a couple of years, but now, some may take as long as eight years. Around 3 million pending cases were congesting the immigration courts as of late 2023, smashing records. Abioye is married to a former immigrant who’s since become a citizen, and she has worked with migrants for more than 15 years. She underscored that when folks leave their homes, they’re often entering a country where the language, customs and culture are drastically different. “For them to have to take that risk means that it’s out of necessity for them: for safety, for freedom, for equal access to things,” she said. “So, I think the misconception is that people just want to be here for the sake of being here, but they want to be here because they need to be here — because it’s Carly Gravley Migrants (top) get breakfast, charge their phones and grab some rest. Those (bottom) arriving on the second bus of the day head into the church. Carly Gravley Unfair Park from p6 >> p10
