Pleading to Stay a Family

Immigrant advocates, however, are increasingly putting such children at the forefront of their lobbying efforts, convinced that they offer the most compelling argument for granting illegal immigrants opportunities to legalize.

"Once the average American citizen learns the facts, they are not going to want these families to be separated. This is about the family values our country holds most dear," said Emma Lozano, co-founder of Familia Latina Unida in Chicago, one of several groups that have coalesced around the issue across the country.

Although still relatively unknown on the national level, the groups -- which include Freedom Families of New York and Million Babies March of Nebraska -- have been regularly busing members to Capitol Hill the past two years.

Last Tuesday morning, the latest delegation from Familia Latina Unida spilled out of a Greyhound bus onto a Washington street. Most of the 28 children in the group wore brown T-shirts printed on the back with the words "Born in the U.S.A. Don't take my Mommy or my Daddy away." The adult parents and chaperones had circles under their eyes from the 14-hour overnight drive from Chicago.

In most cases, their immigration troubles predate the acceleration of worksite raids, stemming instead from mistakes made while applying for legal status, such as leaving the United States to visit a sick parent while their application was pending. But the subtle and not-so-subtle signs of stress in the children offered a glimpse of what might await those whose parents are now getting picked up in raids.

There was 8-year-old Juan Manuel Castellanos, who, three years after his parents fled their home to avoid arrest, still races to close doors and windows, fearing that "Immigration comes for my mom."

There was 11-year-old Tania Del Valle, who has Asperger syndrome and took three months to understand that her father had been deported back to Mexico, then wept uncontrollably for weeks.

And then there was quiet, preternaturally serious 13-year-old Brenda Benitez, who said she tries hard not to snap back when her mother tells her to change the television channel, because her mother is fighting deportation and "I know she may not be here forever."

Before their meetings with lawmakers, Lozano gathered the children in a church to practice recounting their stories.

"Okay, so why are you here?" Lozano asked the pint-size Juan.

"Because I'm trying to get my dad and my mom papers," the boy answered confidently in English.

"And what are they trying to do to your mom and dad?" Lozana prompted.

"They're trying to take them to Mexico," he said, his voice suddenly becoming smaller.

"And what's going to happen to you if that happens?"

"I'm going to be left all alone!" he said, bursting into sobs.

His mother, Consuelo Castellanos, watching from a pew nearby, dabbed at her own tears and admitted to mixed emotions.

"I'm really worried that this is going to traumatize him even more," she said in Spanish. "But I'm also amazed and proud. I don't know where he gets this bravery. Normally, he's so shy, but he's so determined to fight for us."