Denise Cathey/The Brownsville Herald via AP
Pastor Will Davis, of Hope Church in South Carolina, demonstrates against the Migrant Protection Protocols, October 25, 2020, during a joint rally in Brownsville, Texas, and Matamoros, Mexico.
MATAMOROS, MEXICO – Melvin has lived outside with his brother Henry in Matamoros, Mexico, for almost two years. Melvin, 22, is part of a remaining group of asylum seekers from a tent encampment at the border who have yet to be admitted into the U.S. Since late February, hundreds of asylum seekers with open cases have come in through the Matamoros port of entry, as the administration begins winding down the Migrant Protection Protocols (MPP), also known as “Remain in Mexico,” a Trump-era immigration policy that forced asylum seekers to wait in Mexico until their hearing date. Roughly 26,000 asylum seekers are in this group, but those with more complicated cases remain in the dark about when they will be able to enter the U.S.
On Saturday, the remaining group of asylum seekers left the encampment on the banks of the Rio Grande for a Matamoros church deeper in the city, which has been converted into a shelter. The group left behind, fewer than 60 people, had more complicated MPP cases and weren’t included in the first phase of processing.
Many had lived in this city park-cum-refugee camp for months or years, but the camp’s conditions had deteriorated in recent days as the population dwindled. Mexican officials moved swiftly to make camp life even harder, removing bathrooms and even cutting off water. In the last week, officials moved to block all entry into the camp, including for volunteers. Media have been barred since last August. Camp residents became fearful of leaving the camp in case they were blocked from re-entering. Volunteers who provide medical care at the camp were frustrated that they were unable to administer treatments to its inhabitants, including pregnant women.
Some asylum seekers, like Melvin, had been targeted by local cartels, and feared going into a shelter further from the border. Volunteers with The Sidewalk School, a group that provides classes taught by asylum seekers in the camp and now in several Mexican border cities, paid for a shared apartment for Melvin, Henry, and several other asylum seekers instead. The Prospect is withholding their last names for safety reasons.
Sitting on a stool in his apartment, Melvin spoke to the Prospect about his flight from Guatemala, through a translator. He described being shot six times in random gang violence, pointing to his earlobe, his knee, and his bicep. In the hospital, he needed a chest tube to empty his lungs of fluid. His brother had managed to escape unharmed, but they still don’t know who attacked them. After two weeks of recovery, the two fled north by bus. Melvin struggled to walk.
Arriving at the border in 2019 after months of travel, the brothers sought asylum. Melvin said the judge believed them, crying as she heard the contours of their case. But the government appealed, and the Board of Immigration Appeals overturned their win. In June 2018, then–Attorney General Jeff Sessions overruled an immigration judge’s decision, rewriting the law so that domestic and gang violence were no longer grounds for asylum. Sessions’s choice voided Melvin’s chances for safety in the U.S. The brothers were deported to Matamoros.
Local cartels soon targeted Melvin for extortion and kidnapped him. They blindfolded him and drove him to a secure location in three different cars to cover their tracks. There, they held him for six days while they waited for his father to send money from Maryland. They released him near to where he’s currently living and left him with a warning: Next time it wouldn’t be extortion; it would be his life. Because migrants often have family in the U.S., they are especially vulnerable to cartel violence and extortion for American dollars.
Seeing other asylum seekers in the camp crossing without a timeline for his own case has been devastating, Melvin said. Getting out of Matamoros quickly is paramount. The brothers fear leaving their apartment building alone and being spotted by cartel members in the abandoned houses and empty lots nearby. Their quarantine is a different kind of quarantine.
BUT MELVIN’S CASE may have an exceptional chance. Lawyers worked overnight last week to prepare a joint motion to reopen 47 cases for individuals who had lived in the encampment, including Melvin and Henry. Jodi Goodwin, a lawyer who has worked with asylum seekers in Matamoros since the camp began in 2018, told the Prospect that the cases arrived on the judge’s desk on Monday.
“At this point, the initial information we have from the [Biden] administration is that they’ve only agreed to do a joint motion to reopen cases for those individuals left at the camp,” Goodwin said. “That was part of a binational, diplomatic struggle because the Mexicans really wanted to close the camp.”
Seeing other asylum seekers in the camp crossing without a timeline for his own case has been devastating.
But this motion doesn’t indicate that the government is committed to reopening the cases for thousands of others in the MPP program who have been denied access to the asylum system and to due process, Goodwin explained. Roughly 40,000 asylum seekers have had their asylum cases closed or lost their cases for a number of reasons, but lawyers and immigrant rights’ advocates argue that everyone in the program should be able to appeal.
“First off, the program itself is illegal and that’s already been decided by several courts,” Goodwin said. “In my opinion, that alone should mean that the government reopens the cases. In addition, there are so many due-process violations … the hearings that people had were fundamentally unfair.” For example, because asylum seekers were forced to wait in Mexico for their hearing, sometimes they were unaware of when the date was, or sometimes they were kidnapped and unable to make their hearing date.
At his apartment, Melvin was wearing a white plastic wristband. It had no numbers, letters, or anything to indicate its purpose, but it was key for Melvin’s entry to the U.S. The U.N. Refugee Agency gave these wristbands to asylum seekers on their last day in the camp, telling them that the wristband would help accelerate their cases by identifying them as one of the asylum seekers. Goodwin said it was about solidarity. She, too, is wearing a wristband.
The administration’s exception for asylum seekers with closed cases in the Matamoros encampment is representative of the powerful leverage their visibility had throughout the Trump administration. It made them an early priority for relief under the Biden administration.
IN THE CAMP, Melvin and Henry worked closely with The Sidewalk School, coordinating classes across the eight cities in Mexico and working as teaching assistants. Felicia Rangel-Samponaro, one of the organization’s founders, said she had formed a close bond with the brothers as she built up the school for children in the Matamoros refugee camp.
“Not only did [Melvin] make it to Matamoros, but he worked with The Sidewalk School for over a year to help children asylum seekers,” said Rangel-Samponaro. Since they arrived, she added, the brothers have been supporting and caring for each other and others in the camp. They would “be an asset to America.”
In Guatemala, Melvin had earned a degree in technical construction drawing, but he has been making visual art since he was a child. In Mexico, Rangel-Samponaro learned of Melvin’s talents and provided him with supplies. He and other asylum seekers have their work in an Etsy store, the proceeds of which go toward supporting the school and the artists themselves.
Marcia Brown
An example of Melvin’s artwork
Melvin told the Prospect that in Guatemala, he mostly worked with charcoal pencils, but in the camp, he was able to use acrylic paint. Finding somewhere to paint in the camp was difficult—he tried the confined space of a nylon tent under a hot sun and the separate location they used for cooking.
Should they be admitted to the U.S., Melvin and Henry will meet their father, an air conditioner technician in Maryland. Melvin said he is looking forward to working and being able to help support his family. It will be the first time Melvin has seen his father since he was seven years old. Although a timeline is unclear for processing the closed cases, there has been movement. On Monday, 13 asylum seekers from the remaining group from the refugee camp crossed the border.
Melvin said he doesn’t understand why his case was denied. Given the violence he and his brother experienced, he thought it would be easy and fast to seek asylum. Instead, he waited for years in a refugee camp and he wishes that the MPP wind-down was more clear for asylum seekers. He wants the U.N. Refugee Agency and other involved parties to “stick to the plan.” He hopes the U.S. government will never implement a policy like MPP again.
“MPP is a violent policy,” Melvin said. “I was afraid to live in Matamoros.”
Bertha Bermudéz contributing reporting and translation.
