Genoveva Torres, 34, heard about the English classes from a friend. Ana Lilia Perez, 20, learned about them from a cousin. Henry Flores, 36, now in the advanced level, is devoted to the training that might release him from long nights at an East Village bakery.
For the past 25 years, St. Rita’s Center for Immigrant and Refugee Services has never had to advertise its programs. Word of mouth, and new residents’ desperate need for assistance, has led roughly 25,000 participants to the University Heights center for English classes, counseling and other services.
But that tide could come to an abrupt end if Congress decides to dramatically tighten immigration to the U.S. Legislation recently passed by the House of Representatives would make assisting illegal immigrants a crime.
“We couldn’t exist, and who knows how many of us would be in jail,” said Sister Jean Marshall, St. Rita’s matronly founder. “The more I hear about it, the more upset I get.”
The House bill, which quietly passed in December, would make illegal immigrants and those who assist them felons, build a wall along the Mexican border, and make businesses report the status of their employees. A Senate committee swung to the opposite side, proposing a guest worker program and a road to citizenship for the approximately 12 million illegal immigrants now living in the U.S.
Senate negotiations collapsed before a two-week recess earlier this month. House members have indicated that they might back away from the felony charges, but hammering out a compromise bill will still be difficult.
Even if negotiations collapse, the debate has resulted in a groundswell of protest among immigrants, religious leaders and advocacy organizations. Local residents participated in a rally on Fordham Road earlier this month, and many joined a huge demonstration at City Hall last week.
“I support them 100 percent,” said Msgr. John Jenik, the pastor at Our Lady of Refuge Church in North Fordham. Church parishioners, many who are Mexican, have attended the demonstrations.
Rafeek Khan, a leader of the Masjid-Hefaz mosque on East 198th Street, went to Washington to lobby senators for immigrant amnesty. “We don’t condone breaking the law, but these people are here and they are serving this country,” said Khan, who is from Guyana. “Let’s not point our fingers at the people who are washing our dishes.”
Marshall started St. Rita’s out of a deep sense that many new residents needed help. In the early ‘80s, her main concern was for the many Cambodian and Vietnamese refugees coming to the area. “I’d see them picking through the garbage in their pajamas,” said Marshall, who started St. Rita’s by distributing clothing and baggies of rice.
The organization has grown tremendously. Tolentine-Zeiser Community Life Center adopted the program in 1985, setting them up in a modest two-floor office on Andrews Avenue. Over 750 people — from Central and South America to Morocco and Kosovo — now take part in free ESL classes, childcare, employment assistance and counseling at two Bronx sites and one in Brooklyn.
Torres, who is Mexican, a Morris Avenue resident who is struggling after losing a factory shift, and considers her English classes an absolute necessity. “You can’t find a job without it,” she said.
Students in the advanced class grow more ambitious. A young lady from Yemen is aiming to take her GED, an Albanian woman wants to be a nurse, and several others are considering attending Bronx Community College (BCC). Yolanda Villavicencio, from Colombia, works nights at a Fordham Road restaurant and takes classes during the day. Her efforts, however, haven’t yet translated into citizenship.
“I can’t go back,” said Villavicencio, 40, who was near tears over missing her 27-year-old brother’s funeral last week.
St. Rita’s English teachers prepare students for the citizenship exams, and over 160 of them have been accepted in the past five years. The organization also provides emergency services, like translation and domestic violence assistance.
All of this could vanish if Congress decides to criminalize immigrants and assistance providers. “They might as well put the handcuffs on us now,” said Jenik, whose church also serves many immigrants.
Marshall, who adorns her office walls with photos of her participants, says she is prepared to fight for those she has defended for decades. “They know I would stand up for them with my life,” she said.