Bolívar has been fighting the government’s attempts to deport her since August 2002, when she was arrested on her way to a national conference of day laborers in New York. While the car was pulled over to repair a flat tire, the Pennsylvania state police stopped and asked for the identifications of all those traveling in the vehicle. Three of the passengers, including Bolívar, had no legal documents. They were handcuffed and taken to jail.

In prison, the cops told Bolívar that the only way she would see her children, who had traveled with her, was to sign a voluntary departure statement. “I didn’t hesitate and signed it right away,” she told the Militant. “But I knew my rights and I also made it clear that I wanted to see a lawyer and to appear in front of a judge.” She was released and given 30 days to leave the country. From the Pennsylvania jail she went on to the conference in New York.

On her return to Chicago, Bolívar did not meekly prepare to leave the United States, but began building support for her fight to stay. Through these determined efforts, she won the backing of a broad range of individuals and community groups, laying the basis for the November 5 decision.

Bolívar, a 33-year-old mother of three, has lived in the U.S. for 17 years. She has no known relatives in Bolivia, her country of origin. Her children, Miriam, 13, Iván, 11, and Jesús, 8, all of whom are U.S. citizens, accompanied her to the hearing. Several Pittsburgh supporters of her fight also attended.

After initially stating that Bolívar was “removable as charged” for overstaying her visa, the judge began to modify his stand in the face of her testimony, that of her children, and the turnout in support of her fight (see account of hearing on this page).

Among those who celebrated the victory were participants in a rally in Springfield, Illinois, called to support the right of immigrants to hold driver’s licenses. The protesters, many of whom knew about and supported the fight, responded to the news with cheers and applause. The following day, back in Illinois, Bolívar herself went to Springfield to pressure state legislators on the driver’s license issue.

“I have fought before for the rights of everyone living here, whatever their color or language, but I will do it even more now,” said Bolívar after the hearing. “If they couldn’t deter me from defending other people’s rights before, they will certainly not be able to do so now.”

Bolívar had supported the successful campaign by Róger Calero, an editor of Perspectiva Mundial and a former meatpacking worker, to defeat the government’s attempts to deport him. She has also been part of the ongoing anti-deportation fight by Elvira Arellano—a partisan of her own struggle. Arellano is an airport worker who recently succeeded in postponing her deportation, which was originally scheduled for September.

Many workers in Chicago caught up with Bolívar’s victory on the Spanish-language news, which showed the new permanent resident arriving at Chicago’s Midway airport. Her story also appeared in Hoy, the main local Spanish newspaper.

After seeing the TV news, a worker at the Hart Schaeffner and Marx garment plant commented: “Now there are three. Róger Calero, Elvira Arellano, and Julieta Bolívar. Beautiful!”

Marty Ressler from Pittsburgh and Lisa Potash from Chicago contributed to this article.

Bolívar was represented by her lawyer, Chris Bergin, and was accompanied by her three children—Miriam, 13, Iván, 11, and Jesús, 8.

Almost the first thing the judge uttered was, “She is removable as charged,” based on overstaying a visa.

Bergin called Julieta Bolívar to the stand, and established her long record of work in the United States—as a waitress, office cleaner, and currently as an intern with the American Friends Service Committee. He asked Bolívar to describe her many volunteer school and community activities, as well as the activities of her children.

The judge kept questioning Bolívar about her “plans” to live in Bolivia. Could she find a job? Would her children have medical coverage? Where would she live? etc. Bolívar has lived in the United States for 17 years and has no known relatives in Bolivia. So she stated that these things would be very difficult. Her lawyer asked about the effect the deportation order has had on her children, and she described their anxiety.

The government attorney and judge questioned her closely about the dates of her entry into the United States, as they had a printout that seemed to indicate that she had entered through Miami in 1998. But Bolívar denied ever leaving the United States, and explained that at one point her passport had been stolen. Finally, her explanation was accepted.

The judge talked to and questioned each child. At one point he demanded that Iván and Miriam demonstrate Bolivian folkloric dance right in his office. But the tide turned as he talked to the kids, and especially when he noticed the brightly colored T-shirts each was wearing. The shirts called for amnesty and legalization of all immigrants, and an end to discrimination. They had pictures of Bolívar and her children, pleading that they not be separated.

Bolívar’s oldest son, Iván, when questioned by the judge what he wanted to become when he grew up, proclaimed his desire to be a lawyer to keep families together.

“I’ve never seen someone coming in wearing T-shirts like that,” said Ferlise, the judge. “We’ll see what we can do.” As descriptions of her community activism unfolded, Ferlise seemed to realize this was not an ordinary case.

As the hearing wound up, the judge asked the government attorney if he had any objections to vacating the deportation order. He said he did not. The judge then and there issued his ruling, which stated, “These are nice, engaging kids that are a credit to you. You have worked hard, always knowing you were here illegally and that the dreaded nightmare of immigration knocking on your door could happen at any time.” Which is what happened when a Pennsylvania state trooper demanded to see Bolívar’s green card instead of offering assistance when she was fixing a flat tire by the side of the road in August 2002.

The judge concluded with a description of a similar case heard by the Board of Immigration Appeals, saying, “We are bound by their decisions. There is great value in keeping you and your children here. You are truly assets to your community. We will grant approval of the cancellation of the deportation order, and issue you permanent residency and a green card.” He added, “Maybe you should print a photo of your green card on one of those T-shirts, and wear it in case you get stopped again.” We hugged each other, laughing and crying at the same time, as we began to celebrate the victory.  
 
 
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