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San Francisco Chronicle, CA
July 13 2008
Armenian refugees stuck in legal limbo
Tyche Hendricks, Chronicle Staff Writer
Sunday, July 13, 2008
On the cusp of adulthood, Fresno high school valedictorian Arthur
Mkoyan, 17, is wrestling with choices about his future that few
American high school graduates face.
Arthur graduated from Bullard High School last month with a 4.0 grade
point average and a letter of admission to UC Davis, where he planned
to study chemistry in autumn. But the Armenian-born teenager's life
has been in limbo since his parents' asylum petition was rejected
after a 16-year process.
In April, federal immigration authorities detained Arthur's father,
Ruben Mkoian (father and son spell their surname differently),
preparing to deport him. His mother was allowed to remain free to care
for Arthur and his 12-year-old, U.S.-born brother until the date of
their departure.
Sen. Dianne Feinstein, D-Calif., heard about the family's case and, on
the very day of Arthur's commencement, and just days before the
family's scheduled deportation, she introduced a private bill in the
U.S. Senate that led to Mkoian's release after two months in detention
and could grant the family lawful permanent residence.
Such bills rarely pass - an estimated 3 percent are approved - but as
long as the legislation is pending, the removal order remains
suspended, which gives Arthur and his family a temporary reprieve that
could last a couple of years.
Extremely long wait The family's case points to the cumbersome nature
of the asylum process, which for this family took 16 years - almost an
entire lifetime for the California-raised teenager - and raises
questions about the wide variations from one judge to another in the
rate at which asylum is granted.
Arthur's story also draws attention to a long-stalled bill, dubbed the
DREAM Act, which if passed would allow youngsters like him who were
raised in the United States but lack legal immigration status to get a
green card if they pursue college or military service.
"I worked so hard to get into UC Davis, and I've been wanting to go
there since I was in my sophomore year," said the soft-spoken Arthur,
who is ineligible for financial aid or loans because his immigration
status is uncertain. "It's saddening ... but (without loans) we don't
have the money to support my going to college."
Arthur's parents fled Armenia in 1991 after his father, a police
sergeant, exposed corruption at the government office where he worked
and, in what he believes was retaliation, the family's house was
burned down and a shop they owned was ransacked.
"The only way to survive was to leave the country," said Arthur's
mother, Asmik Karapetian. "My husband came here because he thought it
was going to be safe for us."
Mkoian and his family settled in Fresno, where they had friends, and
Mkoian applied for asylum. It was seven years before he was called for
an interview, Karapetian said. His claim was denied, and he appealed
all the way to the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals in San Francisco,
which turned him down earlier this year, saying he had failed to
establish a "well-founded fear of persecution" if he returned to
Armenia and that the passage of time had made his case less
compelling.
Family thrives Meanwhile, Mkoian found work as a truck driver and
Karapetian became a medical assistant. Their two sons grew and
thrived.
Arthur swam, played basketball on a church-sponsored team and
volunteered at a local hospital. Most of all, he excelled in math and
science.
"I just kept up a really high standard for my grades through
elementary and high school," he said. "My mom really pushed on
that. ... It's thanks to her."
Arthur's high school chemistry teacher, Christine Lindley, described
him as a shy kid with a winning smile who worked incredibly hard. When
she heard the family was facing deportation, she wrote a letter to
Feinstein on Arthur's behalf.
"You're taking a kid who's an (advanced placement), valedictorian-type
kid, who's going to take his place in society, and you're kicking him
out," said Lindley. "I realize the wheels of justice are like the
mills of God, but 16 years is a really long time. ... Children need to
get on with their lives."
Experts in asylum law say that the Mkoian case moved more slowly than
most, but that backlogs in the 1990s were common. Today, cases are
handled more rapidly, according to David Leopold, national vice
president of the American Immigration Lawyers Association.
"It's devastating for a family who's been here close to 20 years to be
told, 'Now it's time to go. We're not going to give you the protection
you've asked for,' " he said. "These determinations should be made
more quickly, because it's not fair to families."
An uneven process In addition, says Leopold, the asylum process -
which is designed to protect people who face persecution in their home
countries - suffers from wide disparities in the rates at which
different immigration courts grant asylum.
On average, 38 percent of all asylum claims - and 42 percent of
Armenian claims - between 2000 and 2004 were granted, according to
asylumlaw.org, which tracks cases. But while one Miami judge granted
asylum in just 3 percent of the 1,152 cases he heard, a New York judge
offered asylum in 88 percent of his 1,478 cases. And while a Los
Angeles judge granted asylum in just 7 percent of the 64 Armenian
cases she heard, an immigration judge in San Francisco offered asylum
in 94 percent of his 36 Armenian cases.
"Those numbers raise some questions," said Jayne Fleming, an asylum
expert who is pro bono counsel at the law firm of Reed Smith in
Oakland. "My strongest recommendation would be to provide free legal
representation to people applying for asylum. Second would be to have
some sort of review system when you have vast disparities between
judges with issues that look pretty much the same. Third, what kind of
training is being provided (to judges) on country-specific issues?"
Leopold commended Feinstein for introducing the private bill for
Arthur's family, but urged her to take to take a leadership role in
pushing for passage of the DREAM Act, a bill for which she was a
co-sponsor.
"The DREAM Act is a win-win for everybody," he said. "How can there be
a rational argument against helping a child who has been raised here
and has done well at school and has an opportunity to give back to
this country? It's a chance for these kids to have a future,
particularly kids who find themselves in circumstances they could not
prevent."
Advocates for tighter restrictions on immigration oppose the DREAM
Act, calling it a stealth amnesty and saying the bill would unfairly
reward illegal immigrants.
With the DREAM Act still stuck in Congress and with prospects slim for
passage of the private bill, Arthur Mkoyan has shelved his dreams of
attending UC Davis and is preparing to enroll at Fresno City College
in the fall.
Mostly, Arthur is grateful that his father is no longer locked up in
an immigration jail in Arizona.
"I'm hopeful that someday we can get our green cards and apply for
citizenship, but it's looking pretty tough right now."
July 13 2008
Armenian refugees stuck in legal limbo
Tyche Hendricks, Chronicle Staff Writer
Sunday, July 13, 2008
On the cusp of adulthood, Fresno high school valedictorian Arthur
Mkoyan, 17, is wrestling with choices about his future that few
American high school graduates face.
Arthur graduated from Bullard High School last month with a 4.0 grade
point average and a letter of admission to UC Davis, where he planned
to study chemistry in autumn. But the Armenian-born teenager's life
has been in limbo since his parents' asylum petition was rejected
after a 16-year process.
In April, federal immigration authorities detained Arthur's father,
Ruben Mkoian (father and son spell their surname differently),
preparing to deport him. His mother was allowed to remain free to care
for Arthur and his 12-year-old, U.S.-born brother until the date of
their departure.
Sen. Dianne Feinstein, D-Calif., heard about the family's case and, on
the very day of Arthur's commencement, and just days before the
family's scheduled deportation, she introduced a private bill in the
U.S. Senate that led to Mkoian's release after two months in detention
and could grant the family lawful permanent residence.
Such bills rarely pass - an estimated 3 percent are approved - but as
long as the legislation is pending, the removal order remains
suspended, which gives Arthur and his family a temporary reprieve that
could last a couple of years.
Extremely long wait The family's case points to the cumbersome nature
of the asylum process, which for this family took 16 years - almost an
entire lifetime for the California-raised teenager - and raises
questions about the wide variations from one judge to another in the
rate at which asylum is granted.
Arthur's story also draws attention to a long-stalled bill, dubbed the
DREAM Act, which if passed would allow youngsters like him who were
raised in the United States but lack legal immigration status to get a
green card if they pursue college or military service.
"I worked so hard to get into UC Davis, and I've been wanting to go
there since I was in my sophomore year," said the soft-spoken Arthur,
who is ineligible for financial aid or loans because his immigration
status is uncertain. "It's saddening ... but (without loans) we don't
have the money to support my going to college."
Arthur's parents fled Armenia in 1991 after his father, a police
sergeant, exposed corruption at the government office where he worked
and, in what he believes was retaliation, the family's house was
burned down and a shop they owned was ransacked.
"The only way to survive was to leave the country," said Arthur's
mother, Asmik Karapetian. "My husband came here because he thought it
was going to be safe for us."
Mkoian and his family settled in Fresno, where they had friends, and
Mkoian applied for asylum. It was seven years before he was called for
an interview, Karapetian said. His claim was denied, and he appealed
all the way to the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals in San Francisco,
which turned him down earlier this year, saying he had failed to
establish a "well-founded fear of persecution" if he returned to
Armenia and that the passage of time had made his case less
compelling.
Family thrives Meanwhile, Mkoian found work as a truck driver and
Karapetian became a medical assistant. Their two sons grew and
thrived.
Arthur swam, played basketball on a church-sponsored team and
volunteered at a local hospital. Most of all, he excelled in math and
science.
"I just kept up a really high standard for my grades through
elementary and high school," he said. "My mom really pushed on
that. ... It's thanks to her."
Arthur's high school chemistry teacher, Christine Lindley, described
him as a shy kid with a winning smile who worked incredibly hard. When
she heard the family was facing deportation, she wrote a letter to
Feinstein on Arthur's behalf.
"You're taking a kid who's an (advanced placement), valedictorian-type
kid, who's going to take his place in society, and you're kicking him
out," said Lindley. "I realize the wheels of justice are like the
mills of God, but 16 years is a really long time. ... Children need to
get on with their lives."
Experts in asylum law say that the Mkoian case moved more slowly than
most, but that backlogs in the 1990s were common. Today, cases are
handled more rapidly, according to David Leopold, national vice
president of the American Immigration Lawyers Association.
"It's devastating for a family who's been here close to 20 years to be
told, 'Now it's time to go. We're not going to give you the protection
you've asked for,' " he said. "These determinations should be made
more quickly, because it's not fair to families."
An uneven process In addition, says Leopold, the asylum process -
which is designed to protect people who face persecution in their home
countries - suffers from wide disparities in the rates at which
different immigration courts grant asylum.
On average, 38 percent of all asylum claims - and 42 percent of
Armenian claims - between 2000 and 2004 were granted, according to
asylumlaw.org, which tracks cases. But while one Miami judge granted
asylum in just 3 percent of the 1,152 cases he heard, a New York judge
offered asylum in 88 percent of his 1,478 cases. And while a Los
Angeles judge granted asylum in just 7 percent of the 64 Armenian
cases she heard, an immigration judge in San Francisco offered asylum
in 94 percent of his 36 Armenian cases.
"Those numbers raise some questions," said Jayne Fleming, an asylum
expert who is pro bono counsel at the law firm of Reed Smith in
Oakland. "My strongest recommendation would be to provide free legal
representation to people applying for asylum. Second would be to have
some sort of review system when you have vast disparities between
judges with issues that look pretty much the same. Third, what kind of
training is being provided (to judges) on country-specific issues?"
Leopold commended Feinstein for introducing the private bill for
Arthur's family, but urged her to take to take a leadership role in
pushing for passage of the DREAM Act, a bill for which she was a
co-sponsor.
"The DREAM Act is a win-win for everybody," he said. "How can there be
a rational argument against helping a child who has been raised here
and has done well at school and has an opportunity to give back to
this country? It's a chance for these kids to have a future,
particularly kids who find themselves in circumstances they could not
prevent."
Advocates for tighter restrictions on immigration oppose the DREAM
Act, calling it a stealth amnesty and saying the bill would unfairly
reward illegal immigrants.
With the DREAM Act still stuck in Congress and with prospects slim for
passage of the private bill, Arthur Mkoyan has shelved his dreams of
attending UC Davis and is preparing to enroll at Fresno City College
in the fall.
Mostly, Arthur is grateful that his father is no longer locked up in
an immigration jail in Arizona.
"I'm hopeful that someday we can get our green cards and apply for
citizenship, but it's looking pretty tough right now."