Anyone
in the South Loop on a weekday morning notices the long line of people
that starts at 10 W. Jackson, the district headquarters of the Immigration
and Naturalization Service. The line, which snakes around the building
and around the corner, is the most visual example of an agency whose culture
is "the customer is always wrong."
The
hundreds of people in line are indeed customers. They pay handsomely for
every service -- $ 225 to be eligible for naturalization, for example,
up from $ 95 in January -- not including the cost of fingerprints, photos,
transportation or time off from work. The cost of aggravation is incalculable.
I
visited the line July 7. The stories of those in line made me so angry
I vowed to force serious changes. Every person had his or her own horror
story. Some had been waiting since 5 a.m. to be among the 600 who would
be served that day. Many waited for hours simply to get a form, never told
that forms were available on the Internet or by phone. Others were spending
their second or third consecutive day in line.
I
met a 12-year-old girl whose green card said she was born in 1937 instead
of 1987. Clearly, this was a mistake made by an INS employee. Instead of
receiving an apology, the family was ordered to submit a new application,
pay more fees and stand in more lines. She was one of many there because
of an INS mistake.
About
10:30 a.m., an INS officer came out, the first I had seen since arriving
at 8 a.m., and told the hundreds still waiting that the doors were shut
and no one else would be taken that day. She then barked at me to "move
or go to jail." After I took exception to this treatment, she told me she
treats everyone that way.
As
people left, some in utter disbelief, they were given a piece of paper
with phone numbers and told they could get their questions answered on
the telephone instead of waiting in line. Why wasn't that paper distributed
at 7:30 a.m.? Because "people wouldn't leave anyway," I was told condescendingly
by the officer. "Besides," she added, "many of these people have tried
those numbers and they haven't worked for them."
In
the six months that I have been a member of Congress, hundreds of people
have come to my office seeking help. About 90 percent are experiencing
problems with the INS. I represent one of the most diverse congressional
districts in the country. What they have in common is a love of the United
States -- and a fear and loathing of the INS.
Like
many Chicagoans, I am a first-generation American. Chicago is a city of
immigrants that revels in its diversity. How shameful that new residents,
many of whom faced persecution in their home countries and took great risks
and made great sacrifices to come to the "land of the free," are treated
with astonishing disrespect by the very agency mandated to help them become
American citizens.
I've
met with Doris Meissner, head of INS. I've met with Brian Perryman, the
Chicago District director. Now I want action. I want to hear the plan for
eliminating the line. I want to see INS officials walking the line, answering
questions in a respectful way. There should be convenient places to get
forms without waiting. I want staff trained to provide accurate information
in a customer-friendly environment. I want information distributed in a
timely fashion. Once people get in the door, I want to see more staff to
serve them, considering that fees were raised and the budget increased
for precisely that purpose. Above all, I want a commitment that the culture
of the INS will change and soon.
The
line is the tip of the iceberg. I also am looking into the way in which
people who are seeking asylum are treated, the way that the citizenship
test is administered, and the arbitrary manner in which disability waivers
are granted. Some of the INS issues must be addressed through legislative
changes. But the line is not one of them. You cannot legislate respect,
but as a new member of Congress, I will not rest until my immigrant constituents
get some.
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