Part Three: Looking at an uncertain future
digg it!
Facebook
del.icio.us
Seed Newsvine
Fark It
Reddit
On day three of the six-part series A Home For Brissa, Jessica Placek refuses to give up. After their first petition is rejected she files again, and tries to keep life normal for Brissa and her three little sisters.
BY CINDY LANGE-KUBICK | Lincoln Journal Star
Brissa is quiet on the drive to town.
In Part Two:
Her friends away at college, Brissa must stay home watching cartoons with her little sisters, while her mom takes on the United States immigration system. She loses heart when their petition for an immigrant visa interview is rejected. But she doesn’t quit.
In Part One:
Brissa Placek turns 18 and a clock starts to tick. The girl from Acapulco, adopted by a Wilber family, has 180 days to get an immigrant visa or risk a three year ban from the United States. Her mom puts her life on hold to make it happen.
Mom is taking her sisters to a gem show at the Pershing Center while she has her ACT test-prep class. A radio talk show host had heard about Brissa’s immigration problems and invited her to attend for free.
She likes John Baylor and she likes his class. But she went to a wedding last night. She wore her strappy gold sandals and danced until midnight, and today she’s tired.
Besides, she wants to go to the gem show, too.
Dad called this morning. He’s checking out an orphanage in the mountains of Chihuahua, Mexico.
The ground is so hard it wears the soles off the children’s shoes, he tells her.
If Brissa doesn’t get her I-130 approved soon, Jessica and Jason Placek will hide their adopted daughter there until she gets an immigration appointment at the U.S. consulate in Juarez.
Jessica is afraid for her daughter.
Her birth mother stomped on her head, broke her tooth, beat her with a coat hanger. Now she is living in Mexico. If she finds Brissa, Jessica doesn’t know what she might do.
But the law says anyone who comes here without legal papers and stays 180 days past their 18th birthday risks a three-year ban from the United States.
“The law is wrong,” Jessica says. “But I won’t break it.”
It’s nearly April: 82 days before time runs out.
Most days, Brissa is good at shutting it out.
But not today.
Jessica swings the black Silverado onto the Nebraska Wesleyan campus.
“Hon, you’re going to need to jet, OK?”
“It’s not like I’m going to take a detour.”
Brissa’s black hair swings across her back as she hurries away, notebook in her arms. She looks like a college student in her sweatshirt and ripped Hollister jeans.
Brissa should be in college, like her friends. Her mom tries to remember that when she sasses back.
But it’s hard on everyone else, too. Jason doesn’t say much as his overtime disappears paying lawyers and filing fees and now a plane ticket to Mexico.
Of the three little ones, it’s hardest on Brittany. The 11-year-old hears Brissa cry at night. She sees her mom pouring all of her energy into solving Brissa’s case.
“I used to be so easygoing,” the mother says. “I don’t know where that Jessica went.”
That’s why she’s so excited about taking the girls to the gem show.
Something fun for a change.
They wander the auditorium, admiring pretty rocks and fancy jewelry. Zoe polishes a blue agate while Brittany and Makayla sift through piles of sand, searching for tiny jewels.
In the corner, a man in overalls cuts an egg-shaped geode in half to show the glittering purple amethyst hidden inside.
Where does it come from? Jessica asks.
Mexico, he tells her. South of El Paso.
El Paso is where they will stay if Brissa gets her appointment across the border in Juarez.
If. Always if.
If she gets the appointment, she can get a job. If she gets the appointment, she can drive her car. If she gets the appointment, she can go to college.
After their first application was denied last month, they re-filed. Another $190. Another trip to Lincoln to meet with Max Graves, their immigration specialist.
More waiting.
But, finally, some good news.
Heidi Kaschke from Chuck Hagel’s office has been working on Brissa’s case. The senator has taken an interest. Last week, Brissa’s paperwork made it through the first hurdle. The I-130 was approved by the California Visa Center.
Jessica has had too many disappointments to celebrate.
She knows it’s a three-step process. After California, the petition must go to the National Visa Center in New Hampshire. After that they face an eight- to 12-month wait for an appointment in Juarez.
Jessica watches the days slip by. Her co-workers make her throw away her desk calendar, but they can’t stop her from writing the president and Oprah and anyone else who might care.
A few weeks ago, she spoke to a gathering of Saline County Democrats. The next day, 26 people sent letters to Nebraska’s congressmen.
We have listened to Mrs. Jessica Placek, they wrote.
“Her legally adopted daughter, Brissa, who was born in Mexico, is being required to leave the United States to return to Mexico, where she has no home to which to return …
“Establish a certificate of amnesty for Brissa …”
Jessica cried that night at the Super 8 in Crete, standing at the podium. Her face is breaking out like a teenager’s and she has gained 30 pounds.
Now Max tells her that if Brissa gets her appointment in Juarez, she’ll need a Mexican passport. To get one, she needs her birth certificate from Acapulco. No one knows how to find it. They’ll probably have to fly there and go before a judge.
Jessica puts it on her list: Find a lawyer in Mexico.
When class is over, Brissa piles into the truck. Makayla holds up her bag of tiny gems. Brittany shows her the split egg of amethyst.
Brissa stares out the window.
Jessica looks at her, puzzled.
“I had rocks like that in Mexico and I wanted to go, too.”
“We’ll go again next year.”
The truck is quiet.
Right, Brissa says under her breath.
If I’m still here.
Coming Tuesday: Shopping for prom dresses — and news from the State Department.
Post Your Comment
Standards and RulesYour posted comment will appear after it has been approved.
Frequently asked questions about story commenting.