Immigrant Diaries: Sofia

"The strangers who sojourn with you shall be to you as natives among you, and you shall love them as yourselves."

               Leviticus 19:34

"Hello, bueno, Jackie speaking, how may I help you?"

"Yes ma'am, I was given your number by the central office.  I need some information, please - regarding Hispanics in the school system."

At 8:45 a.m. I wasn't certain twelve hours between shifts was enough, gauging by the tone of this lady's voice.

"I'll answer any question to the best of my ability.  May I ask who is calling?"

"Of course, I'm sorry.  My name is Bonnie Sheridan with the health department.  I'm a social worker."

I remain silent a moment too long before responding, "It's nice to meet you, Bonnie.  How can I help you?"

I heard Bonnie take a deep breath, one identical to mine.  The only difference was, I held tight and refused to surrender to that ‘free-falling' sensation one experiences as they pass the point of no return. 

"What is the school policy on truancy for an illegal alien, pregnant fourteen-year-old?  Her name is Sofia Morales."

There goes the breath, no keeping that one under wraps.  I replied as quickly as possible after the slip, "The same policy exists for all students, regardless of race, national origin or language.  All students are protected from discrimination by federal law.  There is no difference."

"Good, now please explain to me the process for reporting truancy."

"If the student is Hispanic, I can be a potential resource, but I'm certainly not the person you should formally report to.  We have a Dropout Prevention Counselor for that."

I then explain that I will call the counselor and notify everyone who should be aware by email.  Bonnie gives me her email address, asks to be copied in and thanks me before she disconnects.

I immediately check the database and there she is:  Sofia Morales, barely fourteen-years-old, in the United States less than four years.

I call the Dropout Prevention counselor.  He asks, "Was she enrolled at all this year, anywhere?"

"No, I don't think so.  The social worker would have mentioned it."

"Well, if she hasn't enrolled at all, she isn't a dropout.  She's a new enrollment."

"What about the pregnancy?" I asked.

"Pregnancy is not sufficient cause to remain out of school.  She needs to re-enroll in our system.  She was a dropout last year.  This year she's a new enrollment."

"Oh, I understand.  In any case I promised Bonnie an email with the names of school contact personnel."

"That's fine," he replied.

Somehow this story bothered me.  Something was missing.

The next call I made seemed destined for voice mail.  Mr. Rios answered his call at the very last moment.

"Jackie!"

"Rios!" I said, truly happy to hear his voice.  "Do you remember a student by the name of Sofia Morales?"

"Yes, yes, I do.  Look, she was enrolled here for two years.  Then one day her mom walks in and says she's going to South Carolina to live with her grandmother.  This morning I get a call from a social worker at the health department who says Sofia is here and six months pregnant."

The disgust in his voice literally made my ear ache.  I remained silent as he struggled to calmly express himself.

"This is terrible, Jackie.  I am certain Sofia has a marked learning disability.  I can't imagine who could have taken advantage of a child like her."

The rest of the story, I thought as the ache spread to that spot right between my eyes.

There was no accurate way to respond.  "Thanks Rios, I'll keep you informed.  Let me know if she shows up to enroll."

"I will, Jackie."

Think in terms of equal, I tell myself.  And I try, I really do.  There are issues with that reasoning.  What I know to be certain for the majority of fourteen-year-olds could never be Sofia's reality.  She is from one of the most destitute states in Mexico, an area lacking in even the most basic educational resources - less so for a child with special needs.

Her mother would have little or no education; her father, absent.  Perusing her record I note several absences and a previous referral to the school social worker.  The pregnancy for Sofia meant stability.  She was, after all, born and bred to be a mother.  Formal education was a pastime until she found a husband.  The husband was most likely over age eighteen, which meant he was in danger of being charged with statutory rape.

I faced the same dilemma with the solution as obscure now as the first time; they had no idea what they had done, the laws they had broken.

If I went to the home and discussed our legal system, they could probably navigate safely through social service intervention. Sofia would give birth, remaining with her husband and mother while the case eventually faded away.

If I did nothing, the social worker would arrive unannounced, be proudly introduced to the father of Sofia's impending child, who would then be promptly arrested for statutory rape.  The mother would be in danger of arrest as well.  Sofia would possibly be removed from the home and her child placed in foster care when he or she was born.

Social education, at this point, only enables Sofia to manipulate the system.  But, had she and her mother understood the laws of my country, would they be in this situation? 

And how do I weigh the potential outcomes?  Who among us can say that this fourteen-year-old would not be a suitable mother?  Many Hispanic females are caring for younger siblings by age eight or nine.  How would incarcerating the father (and possibly the mother) benefit Sofia, who has a marked learning disability and will most likely struggle academically?  At what point do we draw the line between law and the future of this infant?

What is in the best interest of Sofia?  And how could we possibly know that in trying to salvage one life, we aren't destroying a family?