The immigration issue at Notre Dame goes deeper than the policy debate that crystallized on
campus in October's academic forum. For hundreds of foreign-born faculty, staff and students,
the stakes and stories are personal. Just ask Adela Penagos.
It took Penagos, a First Year of Studies adviser who holds a faculty appointment in
romance languages, 10 years to earn her doctorate and half that many to obtain permanent
residency status in the United States. Her diploma and identification card arrived within a month
of each other last summer, and while she'd always known discipline would get her through the
dissertation, the residency process was far more stressful.
"Getting my green card was a very different story," she says. "It took a lot of time and
money in addition to many intangibles that I was unable to control. As a result, I was never
certain of what the final outcome would be."
A native of Córdoba, Mexico, Penagos attended an American college and came
to Notre Dame in 1989 to study Spanish literature. She was active in international student
groups. She earned a mater's degree from Notre Dame in 1992, and her path took her to Boston for doctoral study, but after completing her courses in 1998
she wanted to explore work in university administration. A call came from Notre Dame contacts,
who wanted her to consider a position in the old Office of Multicultural Student Affairs.
Already familiar with student visas and the complications caused by events as simple as
visiting her family, Penagos told ND that visa issues might arise. Indeed, on that early May day
she was hired, she says, the State Department reached its quota cap for H-1B visas, a non-immigrant category that lets employers hire skilled foreigners who have at least a college
education.
"There was nothing we could do about it other than say goodbye or wait until October,"
the start of the federal government's fiscal year, she remembers.
Notre Dame waited, but the headaches were just beginning. State laws protecting foreign
workers from salary discrimination added a layer of bureaucracy. Leaving and re-entering the
country always initiated more paperwork and fees. September 11 prompted extra scrutiny of all
visas and, she later learned, lengthened the process of applying for permanent residency.
"A lot of it had to do with faith," Penagos says. "I knew that if it was God's will, it would
work out. I was just happy Notre Dame was willing to work with me." She's especially grateful
to her then-supervisors in Student Affairs as well as the Office of General Counsel. But when she
finally decided as a non-faculty member to apply for permanent residency, she had to hire an
attorney.
"I look at it as an investment," Penagos says of the money and time spent during the
nearly five-year endurance test.
She turned to Thomas Arkell '94, '97J.D. In addition to expertise in immigration law,
Arkell had personal experience with the system. He grew up the son of a provincial Supreme Court justice
in British Columbia and accepted a scholarship to play hockey for the Irish. As a student he had
faced the same hassles traveling to and from Canada that Penagos encountered with Mexico.
While he was in law school, his parents became eligible for U.S. citizenship, opening the door
for him to apply for permanent residency. Arkell says he knew he "wanted to make a life-long
commitment to this country," and a professor advised him to hire counsel.
"At that point I decided to become an immigration lawyer so I could help myself and
other people avoid the problems I had encountered with the immigration system," he says.
Making good on his promise, Arkell represents pediatric cardiologists, cancer researchers and
other scholars and professionals who perform especially valuable services while they're here
and, often, back in their native country. He returns to campus each year to talk to international
students about their needs and how to go about looking for work in the United States after
graduation. While many never seek permanent residency and are therefore technically not
immigrants, even a year of work experience in the United States can give them a professional
boost back home.
"Notre Dame continues to be very supportive and proactive for [its] international student
population," Arkell says.
For Penagos, the lessons are an integral part of her formation. She plans to pursue
interests in American higher education, which include supporting students -- American and
international -- who want to learn and live abroad. She's sympathetic to foreigners who cannot
afford the fees she paid over the years and has no problem with making the system faster and
cheaper for those with few resources. But she insists that accountability is important for both the
government and the individual. "You learn to be very patient; you learn how difficult the process
is. Now I can be a witness to that," she says.
If she chooses, Penagos can seek citizenship in five years. Meanwhile, being a permanent
resident means she can apply for jobs and fellowships that were not open to her before.
Recently, Arkell informed a world-class researcher from Europe that his application to
continue his work in the United States had been approved. "His voice was cracking, and he
probably thanked me 10 times during the conversation for helping him -- that is the most
rewarding part of what I do."
(January 2008)
