Rocío’s marriage only got worse after she moved from California to the outskirts of San Antonio. Close to no family or friends, the emotional and physical abuse she experienced from her husband intensified. “I often say Texas hasn’t been good to me because so many bad things happened after I got here,” said Rocío, who asked that her last name not be used in this article. She once overheard her husband mocking her while talking to his mother on the phone. “Who am I married to?” she recalls thinking. She decided it was time to leave.
But it took her half a year to do it. Rocío was an undocumented immigrant married to a United States citizen who never wanted to regularize her immigration status. She only had a part-time job as a kindergarten teacher, which didn’t generate enough income to sustain her. Being undocumented in Texas, she couldn’t access any government help or health care. Even finding housing was a challenge.
Rocío’s story is not unique. Undocumented immigrants experience intimate partner violence at least as much as U.S. citizens or legal residents but are less likely to call the police, seek medical care or reach out to family services when it happens, studies have found. When they are married to U.S. citizens or permanent residents their precarious immigration status is often used as a controlling device.
“The immigration status is both a carrot and a stick,” said Glenaan O’Neil, the legal operations manager at Raíces, a Texan immigrant advocacy organization with an office in San Antonio. “‘If you do what I want you to do, I will get you your papers.’”
The problem became so pervasive that in 1994, Congress passed the Violence Against Women Act (VAWA), which allows victims to apply for legal immigration status without their abusers’ help. But COVID-19 significantly slowed the application process.
In 2019, before the pandemic, the mean processing time for these cases was 20 months. In 2023, it was 31, according to U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS) annual reports. As of this month, USCIS says, 80% of cases are completed within 40 months. The backlog limits abuse victims’ access to jobs and mental health care and forestalls their ability to close a traumatic chapter in their lives.
“We are now looking at a much more extended timeline, which is very difficult for people to hear when they are in a crisis, saying, ‘I need to leave, I need to get out,’” O’Neil said.
USCIS officials didn’t respond to requests for comment from Public Health Watch.
The backlog is among the topics that the American Immigration Lawyer Association brought up in discussions with USCIS this year, said Joy Ziegeweid, who directs the association’s VAWA committee. USCIS inaugurated a new processing hub — the HEART Center, focused on vulnerable communities — in May of 2023 and has reduced its processing times for proceedings like naturalization. But it hasn’t shortened its VAWA processing times. “I look forward to the day when we see processing times reduced thanks to the HEART Center,” Ziegeweid said.
The point of VAWA was to allow immigrants to speak directly to USCIS and say, “I have the qualifications that would allow me to get status, but my abuser is holding my immigration status over my head as a way of controlling me,” O’Neil said. A domestic violence victim can file a case while still living with their abuser, as Rocío did. But while she was able to move out a few months after filing, some can’t.
O’Neil has had clients who remained in abusive households for two or three years. “It’s expensive out there. It’s hard,” she said.
Since processing times have increased, some lawyers have seen victims drop their cases altogether out of desperation. Three years is a long time and many things can happen during that period.
“Some forgive their abusers or just decide not to go on with the process,” said Ofelia Delgado, an immigration lawyer in San Antonio. “We often lose contact with them. We just can’t reach them or they move.”
Unlike other immigration proceedings, filing a VAWA petition doesn’t automatically grant an abuse victim permission to work, making it hard to get a good job with health insurance. Rocío mustered the courage to leave her ex-husband with the help of a therapist she was seeing while still covered by his insurance. When she left, her coverage evaporated. Insurance didn’t come with her daycare job — she was working without papers — and she couldn’t afford to pay for prescriptions and doctor visits out of pocket. She had to stop taking antidepressant medication.
In California, where she lived for 28 years, she could apply for Medicaid even as an undocumented immigrant. In Texas, that wasn’t an option.
If immigrants meet some qualifications, they can apply for a job permit when they file their VAWA petitions and get the permit before their case is fully adjudicated. Rocío did this and got her permit a year after she sent in her application
But not every case meets those requirements. Erick Poz, a 24-year-old college student at the University of Houston who was married to a U.S. Marine, didn’t qualify. He filed his petition in November 2022 but is still waiting to hear from immigration. Poz came from Guatemala on his own when he was only nine and has lived in Texas ever since. His ex-husband filed paperwork to regularize Poz, but when they started having problems, he withdrew it. “I did get threatened to be deported so many times by calls and texts,” Poz said.
It was during that period that a lawyer advised him to apply for VAWA protection. At first he didn’t think the law applied to him because he’s a man, but it isn’t limited to women. It extends to any victim of domestic violence, even a parent or child of a U.S. citizen or legal permanent resident.
Growing up undocumented in Texas, Poz learned to stay away from law enforcement. When his ex-husband beat him one night outside of a bar, he was too frightened to call the police. Poz hasn’t been able to accept any of the internships or scholarships he has been offered because he doesn’t have a work permit. Nor has he been able to get federal student aid.
Even if an immigrant gets a job permit, it’s only temporary. Rocío’s, for instance, expires in 2025. This lowers victims’ chances of leaving their abusers. Some find it hard to leave before their VAWA application is fully processed and they can legally stay in the states permanently, said Edna Yang, an immigration lawyer at American Gateways, an immigration advocacy organization with an office in San Antonio.
The long wait for relief through VAWA also has psychological repercussions for abuse victims, said Mariela G. Shibley, a psychologist in California who works with VAWA petitioners. “They are in a limbo where they have left the abuser, but there is not a lot they can do.”
Often, victims can’t leave the country while they are waiting for a decision. Rocío, for instance, couldn’t travel to Mexico to see her grandmother before she died.
While Rocío can now legally work and get health insurance, there are many other things she can’t do. Without a green card, which would allow her to live and work permanently in the United States, she can’t ask for a loan to start a business or buy a house. Her lawyer keeps telling her to move back to California, where she would have better options, but she has resisted because of the cost of living.
“I feel like I can finally walk,” Rocío said, “but I can’t yet fly.”
If you are experiencing domestic violence in Bexar County, call 1-800-799-SAFE or text START to 88788.
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