Stranger in a strange land
Stranger in a strange land
Lufkin man adopted as baby living out immigration nightmare in Mexico
By JESSICA SAVAGE
The Lufkin Daily News
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
A man adopted by an American family 35 years ago the day after his
birth has been caught in an immigration nightmare, unable to return to
his family in the United States.
Robin Whiteley, of Lufkin, now spends his days hiding out in a Mexican
border town — a place where the U.S. government says he belongs. He
says he doesn't speak the language and knows no one there, yet U.S.
government officials say he has no legal right to be in America.
)
Lora and Royce Whiteley, of Lufkin, pore over files of paperwork they
have kept over the years on their adopted son's legal status in the
United States. Their 35-year-old son, Robin, has been unable to
lawfully enter the country since his deportation to Mexico, a country
he has never known other than a place listed on his birth
certificate.
Unable to work or lead a productive life in Mexico without a valid
birth certificate, Whiteley said he would likely be jailed if stopped
by Mexican officials because he has no proof of his nationalism.
"I'm a man without a country," he said.
The downward spiral of his immigration status began with a drug
possession charge in Lufkin in 2000. Up until that point, Whiteley had
been going through a lengthy process of becoming a U.S. citizen. He
had received his green card and at 18 become a permanent resident. The
decision to go that route came after his parents had run into
considerable red tape in finalizing his immigration status as a child,
according to Whiteley's mother, Lora.
'Given wrong information'
In 1974, the Whiteleys received a call from a midwife from whom they
had a adopted a baby girl eight years earlier.
"We got a phone call from her wanting us to help. The midwife said she
had a boy needing a home and asked if we would adopt him," said
Whitely's father, Royce.
By that time the parents had four children — three boys and a girl.
"We took a family vote and we all wanted to adopt him," Whiteley said.
His wife, Lora, flew out to El Paso and brought home Robin on Jan. 14
of that year. While state adoption records listed his birthplace as
Ciudad Juarez, his adoptive mother said the government based that
determination on her own statements rather than any outside knowledge.
"There is not one shred of evidence of the exact location of where he
was born," she said.
Six years later Whiteley's adoption decree was finalized. The next
step in the process would be to get his U.S. citizenship.
After receiving his birth certificate from the state, Lora Whiteley
said she contacted immigration and was told she would need to provide
a copy of the adoption decree. The problem was the adoption decree, as
a matter of formality, had been sealed until her son turned 18.
Unable to afford an attorney to guide her family through the process,
the mother went round and round with immigration officials being told
to fill out one thing and then another.
"I feel like we were unjustly treated and given the wrong information
by immigration," she said.
Three years ago she found out the attorney who filed for the birth
certificate had a copy of the adoption decree.
"I didn't know that at the time and no one with immigration thought to
tell me he would have a copy," she said.
Over the years the family has spent an incalculable amount of time
trying to work out Whiteley's residency. Some laws have changed, but
laws in place the year Whiteley was born are still valid today.
"They've made it so complicated," she said.
'Save his life'
Since he was 8 years old Whiteley has called Lufkin home. His family
relocated here after his father landed a job as principal at Central
High School, where he later retired after 27 years in education.
Whiteley began school at Kurth Elementary and went on to Lufkin Junior
High East. After not being allowed to play football on the middle
school team, he began running with a fast crowd, one that influenced
some bad decisions later in life, his father said. The family
instituted "tough love" and Whiteley moved out of the house at 18.
At 26, Whiteley was picked up by police on possession of marijuana
charges in Lufkin. He was sentenced to prison and served two years
before he was deported to Mexico.
A stipulation under immigration law at the time considered any drug
charge an aggravated felony offense if that person were not a lawful
citizen, Whiteley said. That pushed his case into immigration court
where his permanent resident status in the United States came under
question and he was eventually forced across the border to a country
he had never known.
Whiteley stayed three days in Mexico before he sneaked back into his
home country. He was picked up at a work site in Ohio and deported
back to Mexico. That didn't stop him from coming back time and time
again until in 2007 when he was charged with a felony offense for
illegal re-entry — a virtual death sentence for any legal effort to
return to the United States, according to a report published Sunday by
the McAllen Monitor on Whiteley's case.
"In the end, this was my fault," he told a reporter with the Monitor.
"I should have pushed through earlier and gotten my citizenship. I
committed a crime, and I paid that price. But now, I feel like I'm
still being punished."
Whiteley said a lot of people are not able to look past his criminal
record when assessing his case.
"That should have no bearing on my citizenship," he said. "I am a U.S.
citizen by every requirement of the law."
As it turns out, Whiteley's situation is more common than one would
think.
The government has mistakenly locked up, deported or denied entry to
dozens of lawful U.S. citizens based on suspicion alone. A study done
by the non-profit Vera Institute for Justice in 2007 found 322 people
with claims to citizenship detained in 13 of the nation's immigration
prisons, according to the Monitor's report.
For Whiteley's case, there is a ray of hope in a bill being drafted by
Congress. U.S. Senate Bill 1359, introduced by Sen. Mary L. Landrieu
(D-La.), amends the Immigrations and Nationality Act to give automatic
citizenship for a child adopted outside the United States by a U.S.
citizen parent. The bill called the Foreign Adopted Children Equality
Act or the FACE act applies to those over and under the age of 18. If
passed, Whiteley could be given citizenship.
Until that time comes, Whiteley said he is trying to do anything he
can to get back to his family. He has four children — two young ones
and two older ones.
"I've missed a lot of their life due to what's going on now. I just
hope one day that it all can change," he said.
Whiteley has resorted to media coverage in hopes that someone familiar
with immigration law can help him get home.
"He's trying to do everything he can to save his life," his father
said.