CATCH-22 (cont.)

Illegal Colombian Immigrants Face Deportation To A War-torn Country. But
They Can't Get Amnesty Because Colombia Is A US Ally In The War On Drugs.

Those Colombians who are now safe in the US have embraced their new home in
the most American of ways -- by becoming political activists. On a brisk
September morning, just six months into the Colombian amnesty campaign, a
crowd gathered in the dimly lit basement of Parroqua Nuestra Senora Del
Carmen Catholic Church in Lowell. They had come for information about HR
2741, otherwise known as "la amnestia." Close to 75 men and women, roughly
between 20 and 60 years old, milled about speaking in Spanish, their faces
flushed with anticipation.

Raquel Matthews, a community organizer at Voices in Action, a Malden-based
immigrant-advocacy group, stood before the throng, clutching the tools of
the campaign -- HR 2741 petitions, AMNESTIA PARA COLOMBIANOS pamphlets,
letters addressed to the state's congressmen. "This is your chance for a
better life," she told the group as they filed inside. "Only you can keep
this federal bill alive."

Matthews, a 54-year-old Colombian immigrant (her maiden name is Rocha),
never imagined that one day she would be leading her compatriots in a fight
to call America "home." Born the ninth of 10 children in Bogota, she led a
quiet, insular life that revolved around her father's tailor shop -- until
her older sister Mercedes, who had migrated to the US, was killed in a car
accident in 1970. Concerned for the well-being of her sister's five young
children, Matthews, then 25, left Bogota for the hectic streets of New York
City. She later followed a brother to Boston and, eventually, worked as a
nurse's aide in and around the city for nearly two decades. Family
obligation, not political repression, brought Matthews here.

For the longest time, she paid little attention to her homeland,
particularly to the civil war that had paralyzed the country for decades.
Instead, Matthews, who is married to an American, focused on life here. But
in 1996, her sense of obligation was stirred again when Congress introduced
changes in US immigration law -- notoriously harsh changes that prohibit
millions of immigrants, including Colombians, from obtaining permanent
legal status. The landmark overhaul of immigration procedures included many
onerous provisions, such as stricter border checks and new income
requirements for US sponsors. The act's broad, draconian measures limited
health care for illegal immigrants and sped up the deportation process for
millions of refugees.

Matthews discovered firsthand the harmful consequences of this new
legislation when several friends and a nephew were deported because of
restrictions outlined in the 1996 act. She couldn't stand by and watch
people shipped back to war-torn Colombia, banished forever. Nor could she
watch idly as families were left behind to crumble. "The injustices of that
law," she says, "are very hard to take."

So Matthews called Voices in Action. She trained as a volunteer, learning
the complexities of US immigration law, as well as the legal steps for
achieving asylum and naturalization.

She also learned the value of political action. As soon as she found out
about HR 2741, Matthews began stirring up support for the federal
legislation. Not only has she contacted all 10 Massachusetts congressmen,
but she has also traveled from East Boston to Brighton to Chelsea to enlist
help from fellow immigrants. Her efforts have yielded results: in the past
six months, she's collected tens of thousands of petition signatures, each
representing another Colombian pulled into the fight.

The campaign has transformed the frail yet feisty Matthews into a prominent
leader in the community. Her dark eyes moisten whenever she talks about the
plight of Colombians in the US -- how so many live without any legal
protection, in constant dread of being forced to return to the violent,
repressive conditions that pushed them from their home. This passion for
her fellows, and her desire to see them at peace, is what keeps Matthews
going -- even in the face of discouraging odds.

"There are big challenges with this bill," she admits. HR 2741 has only 33
co-sponsors; it needs 218 votes to pass. "As long as I'm alive and can
help," Matthews vows, "this bill isn't going to die."

The one thing that American politicians could give Colombian US residents
is peace of mind. Which is why Capuano and other Massachusetts
representatives have supported HR 2741. They have contacted the Clinton
administration and met with countless Capitol Hill colleagues -- all in
hope of pushing HR 2741 forward before the legislative session ends. If
Congress fails to debate HR 2741 by the end of this month, the bill
effectively dies. Supporters would be forced to refile it when the new
session begins in January.

The lobbying effort has been anything but easy. For one thing, Congress
tends to become preoccupied with what's been called "the country's
business" -- the 11 pending appropriations bills -- as November nears. US
Representative John Tierney (D-Peabody), who is a co-sponsor, explains that
HR 2741 falls into the non-spending category. "That automatically puts this
down a notch," he says. In addition, Colombian advocates have only just
begun drawing immigrants into the cause, so the bill still lacks strong
grassroots political backing.

And then there are the challenges that come with the Colombian aid package.
Unlike the Massachusetts delegation, which led the country in opposing the
Clinton plan, the majority on Capitol Hill embraced it. Those who backed
what was billed as a crackdown on drugs might be reluctant to recognize the
human consequences of their votes -- and the legitimate need to protect
immigrants in the US from the ravages of war in their homeland.

"The aid only added to our previously bad policies [concerning Colombian
immigrants]," Capuano says. "But most people in the House and Senate don't
agree. They think they're doing the right thing."

Lucas Cardona, though, has a different idea about what is right: Congress
should help the Colombians in this country. Colombian immigrants haven't
just taken refuge here, he says; they have labored hard, raised families,
paid taxes, and contributed to society. Only by coming to the US have his
compatriots truly been able to live. "In Colombia," he says, "the people
have no freedom, no opportunity, no chance to thrive."

Cardona knows that Americans may not understand all that's happening in
Colombia -- even his own people cannot quite grasp what's been described as
a "sickness," a "Biblical holocaust." But Americans do understand the
values of fairness, peace, and freedom, he notes, and Colombian immigrants
are learning the values of activism and civic duty. "Colombians can be good
citizens in this country -- if we are given the chance," he says.

Like many of his fellow Colombians, Cardona prefers not to dwell much on
the obstacles facing HR 2741. "I try to be hopeful," he says -- but perhaps
he's overly so. HR 2741 probably won't pass this legislative session, or
the next one, or the one after that. After all, it took Salvadoran and
Guatemalan immigrants in the US about 10 years of hard lobbying -- and a
lawsuit -- before they finally received something close to amnesty:
temporary protection against deportation.

That doesn't mean the Colombian amnesty campaign is an exercise in
futility. Through their struggle to become legal residents, these
immigrants are becoming American. Here, they know that they have rights,
that they can influence government, and that they can make a difference.
Even if they were forced to return to Columbia, they could never go back
home again.