Are Haitians Forgoing Temporary Protected Status?

Homeland Security recently reported that only a small fraction of
Haitian immigrants potentially eligible for special immigration relief
through Temporary Protected Status (TPS) have actually
sought that benefit.

Immigrant advocates and humanitarian groups lauded the granting of TPS in the wake of the
earthquake. It was a vindication of previous efforts following the
devastating 2008 storm season, when activists had pushed for TPSwhich enables legal employment, as a
matter of justice for the burgeoning Haitian American community. Yet as
of this week, only about 38,000 people have applied for TPS, compared to
an estimated 100,000 to 200,000 Haitians living in the U.S.
unauthorized.

Currently, according to a report posted on ImmigrationProf, roughly 10 percent of
applications have been rejected, and about half of applications for fee
waivers have been approved. The New York Times reported last month that
some applications for fee waivers had been turned down "partly because
applicants offered little proof beyond saying, 'I don't have the
money.'" Now might be a good time to take their word for it, though.

The Times reports:

Charitable groups blame the lag on the application
fees, which total about $500. The average monthly amount that Haitians
abroad send to relatives in Haiti - a pillar of the country's economy -
is just $150, according to the Inter-American Development Bank. On
Monday, a broad coalition of charities called on the government to make
it easier for applicants to have the fee waived.

But beyond that, there are many barriers to registering for TPS that
could account for the low response rate. The legal red tape and
paperwork may be daunting. Many survivors could still be reeling from
the trauma of losing or being separated from loved ones. Language
barriers limit people's access to attorneys' services, and a past criminal record could disqualify an
applicant. And there is a very real and well-founded fear of what might
happen if you make yourself or your family known to federal
authorities--even if only to be recognized for the immigration relief
you're entitled to. If you can manage to avoid deportation and work off
the books indefinitely, would the 18 months of official relief under TPS
really be worth the risk of exposure to a system better known in
immigrant communities for its incompetence and corruption than its
humanitarian credentials? The arbitrary detention of a group of Haitian
quake survivors (TPS is only available to those here prior to the
quake), reported this week by Nina Bernstein, is another
telling reminder of how ill-equipped the government is to contemplate
the nuances of a humanitarian crisis.

But the benefits of TPS could go a long way toward helping the
Haitians here lay the groundwork for recovery at home. The contributions of Haitian migrants is especially
crucial now that rebuilding mission appear to be moving into full force,
while huge questions remain about what role, if any, the diaspora will be allowed to play in the
international effort. In creating a new social and economic infrastructure
for Haiti, a grassroots force that could hold both donor countries and
the Haitian government accountable may come from the vast network of
emigres, including professionals with expertise they could lend to the
rebuilding, as well as workers whose remittances helped helped buoy the
country's flailing economy prior to the quake and play an even more significant role now. Some
propose relaxing draconian visa restrictions to facilitate
the reunification of families in the U.S.

While administration's granting of TPS was a positive and necessary
move, the fact that few seem willing to take advantage of it so far only
underscores the desperate need for comprehensive immigration reform, so that people do
not have to struggle with the uncertainty of temporary aid measures.
Stuck in limbo between stopgap relief and hope for transformation,
Haitians continue their weary wait for justice.