Latinos Unite Across Classes Against Curbs on Immigration

Ricardo Juarez, a leader of Mexicans Without Borders, said that despite their tactical differences, he has come to appreciate the efforts of Marinay's committee. At a county hearing last Tuesday, Juarez and several Latino business owners testified against the resolution, using nearly identical arguments and similarly polite tones.

"We can march. They can lobby. We are each doing our part," Juarez said later. "We all want to solve the problem, and we all have to coexist in the community."

Ruben Andrade, who owns several cafes and clubs in Prince William, embodies the contradictions that have pulled successful Latinos in several directions on illegal immigration. A war refugee who came to the United States 25 years ago, he worked menial jobs and faced his share of discrimination. Now, he prides himself on running stylish establishments and criticizes Latino laborers who pick fights in bars and throw trash in the streets.

"We need to educate our people," Andrade said. "If your neighbor asks you to pick up your garbage, you don't tell them to go to hell. You need to learn English and respect the rules." On the other hand, he said, "this law will hurt the entire community. It is not against illegal immigrants; it is against all Latinos, and we must fight it together."

In Maryland, where attitudes toward immigrants have been more relaxed, at least one measure similar to Prince William's has been proposed in the city of Frederick, and Latino leaders throughout the state's suburbs are increasingly worried that the illegal immigration controversy will engulf the region.

A handful of Latino businessmen in Montgomery and Prince George's counties have joined meetings of the Virginia coalition. Gilbert Mejia, a Salvadoran restaurant owner, was the host of a recent meeting at his La Frontera restaurant in Gaithersburg. He said the fear of arrest and harassment among Latino immigrants has become so widespread that business at his restaurant has fallen sharply this summer.

"Look at this place. Normally, we would be full for lunch," said Mejia, gesturing around a room full of empty tables. "People are afraid the attitude from Prince William will drift here, that Maryland will be the next target. I have been in this country 27 years, and I've invested hundreds of thousands of dollars. We need to know what's coming our way."

In Prince William, many immigrants who have never joined a protest or a committee, but have spent years quietly securing a niche for their families, find themselves drawn to the unfamiliar fray of public debate. Last Tuesday, about 200 Latinos filled an overflow room outside a supervisors meeting in which the July resolution was being discussed, although a final vote was postponed.

One was Jesus Calva, 40, who lives with his wife and two children in Lake Ridge, a woodsy townhouse community. Calva entered the United States illegally as a teenager and started working as a tree trimmer for $3 an hour. Today, he makes $27 an hour with a large construction company, and he helped rebuild the Pentagon after the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attack. On his living room wall is a certificate of thanks signed by former defense secretary Donald H. Rumsfeld.

"I have always appreciated this country, and it really upsets me to hear about this law," said Calva, who spoke briefly at last Tuesday's hearing. Afterward, he strode outside, sat down on a curb and began to weep in frustration. "Even when I was illegal, I worked hard for everything I got, and I paid a lot of taxes," he said. "If they don't like us, why don't they just say so? I love my home, but I don't want to live in a place where I am hated."