Aliens Depart Arizona in Advance of Enforcement-Only Law
In Arizona, invader families are having tearful garage sales as they load up to leave. That’s the good news. The bad news is many are just relocating to other states rather than to their true homelands.
It’s hard to tell from the anecdotes how many illegals are actually leaving, but 100,000 reportedly departed after Arizona passed a law in 2007 that cracked down on hiring.
Naturally, the open-borders media are there to create sob stories, noting every heartfelt sniffle of every jackpot-baby child.
Immigrant families leave Arizona and tough new law, AP, June 22, 2010
Ruiz and Suriano and their families plan to move this month. Arias and her family are considering leaving, but are waiting to see if the law will go into effect as scheduled July 29, and, if so, how it will be enforced.
The law requires police investigating another incident or crime to ask people about their immigration status if there’s a “reasonable suspicion” they’re in the country illegally. It also makes being in Arizona illegally a misdemeanor, and it prohibits seeking day-labor work along the state’s streets.
Ruiz, Suriano and Arias are representative of many families facing what they consider a cruel dilemma. To leave, they must pull their children from school, uproot their lives and look for new jobs and homes elsewhere. But to stay is to be under the scrutiny of the nation’s most stringent immigration laws and the potentially greater threat of being caught, arrested and deported. They also perceive a growing hostility toward Hispanics, in general.
On the quarter-mile stretch of Phoenix’s Belleview Street where both Ruiz and Suriano live, more than half the apartments and single-family homes have “for rent” signs out front.
Alan Langston, president of the Arizona Rental Property Owners & Landlords Association, said his group doesn’t track vacancy rates but that his members believe they will be affected by people leaving because of the new law.
The friends say most of the vacancy signs went up after the new law was signed in late April.
“Everyone’s afraid,” Arias says.
The three friends are key members of a parents’ support group at their children’s school down the street, said Rosemarie Garcia, parent liaison for the Balsz Elementary School District.
“They are the paper and glue and the scissors of the whole thing,” Garcia said. “I can run to them for anything.”
With two of the women leaving and the other thinking about it, Garcia is concerned about the school’s future.
“It’ll be like a desert here,” she said. “It’s a gap we’ll have all over the neighborhood, the community, our school.”
Ruiz, Suriano and Arias met three years ago at cafecitos, or coffee talks, held at the school. Now their families hold barbecues together and their children have sleepovers.
Arias, 49, and her day laborer husband paid a coyote to come to Arizona 15 years ago from Tepic, Nayarit on Mexico’s central-western coast. Their children, ages 9, 11 and 13, are U.S. citizens.
“I don’t want to leave but we don’t know what’s going to happen,” she says.
Ruiz, 38, and her husband, who builds furniture, came to the U.S. from Los Mochis in the northwestern Mexican state of Sinaloa about six years ago on tourist visas, which expired long ago. Two of their kids, ages 9 and 13, are here illegally, while their 1-year-old was born here. The family is moving to Clovis, N.M., where they have family. “It’s calmer there,” Ruiz says.
Suriano, 28, and her husband crossed the desert six years ago with their then-toddler. The boy is now 9, and the couple has a 4-year-old who was born here. They’re moving to Albuquerque, where they don’t know anyone but already have lined up an apartment and a carpentry job for him.
“I don’t want to go,” Suriano says, wiping away tears. “We’re leaving everything behind. But I’m scared the police will catch me and send me back to Mexico.”
Funny how the press never records the suffering of citizens who lose jobs when cheap alien labor displaces them…
Below, the Quintana family packed up to leave Phoenix for Colorado, including the 10 anchor-baby children. The reporter practically poked a stick at little Graciela as she was sobbing about her friend moving away to make her emote more.