By Sue Smith
Maria* has a difficult choice to make, one that could be a life and death decision for her. Does she return to her home country of Honduras, or does she remain in the U.S. with her three children and risk death?
That may sound a little extreme but based on the reports of immigration agents in her community, her fear is real.
“There are ICE agents and vehicles just sitting in the parking lot at the entrance to Costco!”
“The ICE agents in Walmart are in full uniform and apparently looking for someone.”
“My friend has a green card and knows her rights, but agents stopped her when she was walking down the street and asked her for ID. She was terrified!”
“ICE was in a white van, and when they opened the doors, there was a woman and a little boy already in the van.”
When these reports are coupled with actual news reports of green card holders and U.S. citizens being mistakenly detained and deported, Maria is afraid that detention would cost her her life.
Maria, who is in her early 40s, was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes soon after she arrived in the U.S. from Honduras. Being a migrant, she faced significant challenges navigating the healthcare system, specifically because of language, her immigration status and the lack of health insurance.
“It was overwhelming. I was sick, alone, and had to change my entire lifestyle to adapt to my diagnosis,” she says.
I met Maria over 15 years ago, soon after she was diagnosed. I began accompanying her to appointments at the diabetic clinic of a major university hospital over 80 miles away. It was the only place where she could receive assistance with the cost of insulin and regular health care.
We used the time in the car to talk about treatment, diet, nutrition and lifestyle changes that were necessary. She bought cookbooks in Spanish and learned how to regulate her diet. She learned to do regular testing of her blood sugar levels and to adjust her insulin injections.
We even discussed her rights, when her employer threatened to dismiss her and wouldn’t allow her to take needed breaks while she was learning to manage her blood sugar and insulin injections.
Today, Maria often helps other Spanish-speakers in her community to learn more about how to live with diabetes. She provides education and offers practical advice from her own experience of living with diabetes.
And now she’s afraid to leave her home. “I go out only for work or doctor’s appointments for me or for my children, and I ask friends to pick up groceries for us.” ICE agents are regularly seen in her neighborhood, and she fears that she will be stopped and asked for papers. She’s afraid that one day, there will be a knock on the door of the home she and her three sons share with a friend, and she will be detained.
They’re starting with people who have deportation orders, she says, and she received a deportation order when she failed to return from Virginia to Texas for a hearing. “I was young, had just arrived in the U.S., and I didn’t know anyone. I didn’t even have a good understanding of where Texas was back then. I had no way to get there from Virginia, and I didn’t know what to do.”
That one mistake has come back to haunt her. She can’t fix it.
This led to our recent conversation about what could happen to her if she is stopped and questioned. With the deportation order on her record, she would likely be detained and deported.
All persons with Type 1 Diabetes require insulin replacement therapy to survive. Without insulin, they will die from hyperglycemia within days or weeks. And over time, even short episodes of hyperglycemia can lead to severe microvascular complications including heart disease, kidney failure, nerve damage and others.
Maria’s fear is that if she is detained or deported, she will not have access to insulin or be able to manage her diet.
Which leads her to consider a voluntary return to her home country, Honduras, which she left nearly 20 years ago. And there are no guarantees that she would have ready access to the treatment she needs for survival.
A voluntary return means leaving her three sons behind. The two youngest are U.S. citizens, and the oldest has a green card, or lawful permanent residence status. Once one of the U.S. citizens reaches age 21, he could petition for his mother to receive a green card.
But staying is a risk in these uncertain times. And in Maria’s case, a risk that carries life and death consequences.
Sue Smith is a Cooperative Baptist Fellowship field personnel. Learn more about her ministry here.