Northwest Immigrant Rights Project turns 20
Yet those who wind up in immigration court most likely won't have an attorney. Immigration violations are civil violations so defendants aren't entitled to a court-appointed attorney.
For 20 years , the Northwest Immigrant Rights Project has acted as voice and muscle for those seeking refuge in the United States, seeking permanent status, seeking the right to work here. Known as "NWIRP," the group is the only nonprofit in the state providing deportation defense.
What started as a one-person shop assisting asylum seekers from El Salvador and Guatemala now has 28 employees, offices in Seattle and in Granger, Yakima County; and a widely heralded reputation.
"The nature of their work is so important, so powerfully needed," said Pat Arthur, director of the Institutions Project at Columbia Legal Services.
People fleeing from persecution around the world "seek relief (here). NWIRP really fills a void so they get a fair shake in this country," added Eric Jones, a Seattle immigration attorney and a member of the American Bar Association's Commission on Immigration.
NWIRP estimates it has served 200,000 clients in a wide range of cases: citizenship, refugee, asylum, deportation, domestic violence, family reunification and custody.
NWIRP attorneys work with private attorneys to take on cases pro-bono. The demand for service is always great.
"It's like drinking out of a firehose," said staffer Jonathan Moore.
To chronicle NWIRP's history is to take note of a U.S. immigration system that is increasingly strained, significantly different and continually a point of contention between those who argue the system is too lax — and others who say it is too harsh.
In recent interviews, current and former NWIRP staffers weighed in on their world of immigration. Some excerpts:
Sarah Ignatius, former NWIRP executive director; now executive director of the Political Asylum Immigration Representation Project in Boston:
"Our clients were Central Americans, almost exclusively Salvadorans and Guatemalans. This was in the late 1980s. We grew and we started to expand into other areas besides asylum. ... At the time, you could be eligible for legalization if you had been here before Jan. 1, 1982, or if you had done 90 days of farm work. It sounds so open now. The theory was (the U.S.) would give people an amnesty and there would be an authorized work force.
"The laws now are so harsh and punitive against people who don't have legal status.
"It's become even more restrictive. The laws are tougher and the attitudes of decision makers have become so suspicious. And while we do have to be alert toward terrorism, it seems like there's an overreaction."
Jonathan Moore, a NWIRP accredited representative: "We were once known as the Northwest Immigrant Legal Services. One problem, though, was when you say it in Spanish. It sounded like we were the Immigration Service. There were a couple of times people called for the INS and they were trying to turn in their neighbor.
"If you look at immigration without any sense of history, you say people are coming and you see it as imposition. But if you look at history, you realize how often (the U.S.) has been involved in those countries. How they've intervened heavily. Some migration flows are products of U.S. policy."
Matt Adams, legal director for NWIRP in Granger: "Normally, a person goes to the immigration judge in Seattle. If we lose there and the person wants to fight, we go to the BIA (Board of Immigration Appeals). There used to be 19 people on the board. It's been cut to 11. There used to be three-person panels reviewing cases. Now a majority of the cases are being reviewed by one member.
"As a consequence you have families being torn apart with no meaningful review and more cases than ever are going to federal court."
Jay Stansell, former NWIRP attorney; now a federal public defender in Seattle: "I had this wonderful string of people who made mistakes and then got their lives together. There was a guy named Jesus. He was 70 at the time. He'd been in the U.S. since 1949 — an undocumented Mexican for decades.
"There's an unusual form of relief called registry — if you prove you've been here an extraordinary length of time, you can get a green card. Jesus was illiterate. It was difficult to gather documentation to prove he had been in the country that long. But Jesus got his green card. I have a picture of him holding up his green card in my office.
"This is the classic, positive side of what the general public views as 'illegal aliens.' He absolutely stayed out of trouble. He worked year after year, under the table, minimum wage. It's an astounding story. There are tens of thousands of stories like Jesus."
Florangela Davila: 206-464-2916 or fdavila@seattletimes.com
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