Among the 800,000 Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) recipients exists an even more vulnerable group of young undocumented immigrants who could very possibly face persecution—and even death—if they are deported to hostile nations if Congress does not act on legislation to protect them by the end of the year:
“Deportation to the countries of birth might mean a death sentence to LGBTQ DACA recipients," said Luis F. Gomez, a 28-year-old DACA recipient. He and others say that gay, lesbian and transgender people often face violence and hostility along with widespread discrimination in Latin America and other parts of the world.
"This is a very urgent matter right now," said Gomez, who works as an immigration resources specialist for the LGBT Center of Orange County. Gomez gathered with others at Mi Centro, a Boyle Heights community center operated by the Los Angeles LGBT Center and Latino Equality Alliance.
According to research from the Center for American Progress, an estimated 36,000 DACA recipients identify as LGBTQ, and DACA has not only provided them with economic stability—“LGBT people of color are more likely to live in poverty compared with their non-LGBT peers”—but a shield from danger:
If LGBTQ DACA recipients lose their protected status, not only will they no longer be able to work and thrive in the United States, but they will also face deportation to countries they may not have set foot in since childhood and where their lives could be in danger. In much of the world, deportation is a death sentence for LGBTQ people. Same-sex sexual acts are criminalized in at least 72 countries; being gay is punishable by death in eight of those countries.
The largest chunk of DACA recipients come from Mexico, where LGBTQ people are not criminalized. However, “violence against LGBTQ people remains a major threat. Sixty percent of LGBT people surveyed by the Mexican government reported having known an LGBT person who was murdered within the three years of the survey”:
Alberto Donjuan, 24, of Santa Ana said he worries about deportation to Mexico, not only because he fears anti-gay discrimination but because he's not fluent in Spanish. He has few known relatives there.
"I came here when I was four. I don't remember Mexico," said Donjuan, a college student who works for a cell phone company.
Marco Quiroga, a DACA recipient and former director of public policy of the True Colors Fund—an organization created by entertainer Cyndi Lauper to end LGBTQ youth homelessness—worries he’ll be torn from his home and deported to Peru, where “ninety-five percent of LGBTI Peruvians reported to local nongovernmental organizations that they had experienced violence or discrimination because of their LGBTI status”:
I arrived in the U.S. from Peru when I was two years old and my family landed in Orlando, Florida. Growing up undocumented meant I had to live in daily fear for my own safety and that of my family. I was separated from family members through deportation and struggled through poverty and unstable housing and homelessness because of the dysfunctional immigration laws keeping individuals like myself unable to adjust my immigration status. I was a beneficiary of DACA, which helped lift me from the shadows of fear and vulnerability that I was told I belonged in and empowered me to advocate for my community while sustaining myself and my family.
Among trans DACA recipients who have spent years trying to become their authentic selves, DACA’s rescission is nothing short of devastating. Catalina Velasquez, a Colombia-born trans woman who in 2013 became the first trans immigrant Latina appointed commissioner of the D.C. Office of Latino Affairs:
"My mom's first reaction was to ask me how I could reverse my transition," Velasquez said. "My father hasn't seen me in years. If he were to see me with breasts, violence wouldn't be out of the question."
It’s not just deportation that LGBTQ DACA youth fear, either. “Before being deported, immigrants would likely spend time in a DHS detention facility. The horrific abuse that LGBTQ immigrants face in detention facilities is well-documented”:
According to the Bureau of Justice Statistics, nonheterosexual people are more than twice as likely as the general population to be sexually assaulted while in confinement. From 2009 to 2013, 1 in 5 substantiated allegations of sexual assault in ICE detention facilities had a transgender victim. In addition to sexual assault, LGBTQ people in detention face verbal and physical abuse; prolonged solitary confinement; and the withholding of critical health care needs, such as hormone therapy or HIV medication.
Work permits and driver’s licenses aren’t the only things at stake for undocumented immigrant youth: it’s also quite literally their lives. The American public, by an overwhelming majority, wants Congress to protect them. Congress must act, and they must do it now.