Last summer, local and federal lawmakers from Utah participated in a panel discussion in Layton, addressing the issue of immigration and its impact on the state. When asked about their thoughts on arresting and detaining otherwise law-abiding immigrants with no criminal history in the U.S., one prominent legislator responded, “I know we all benefit from a lot of these people, but the reality is they’ve had sometimes years, if not decades, to go through some legal process and at least try.”
He stated that if someone has lived here for many years “and never done anything to formalize your status, it’s final exam time, and you may find yourself being deported.”
At the heart of this response is one of the most common assumptions about the immigration process — that most immigrants with a clean record can find a way to legalize their status if they simply try. If they haven’t by now, it’s probably because they lack the will or don’t care enough to “get right with the law.”
A very common immigration scenario
Imagine someone brought to the U.S. as a child (though this also applies to adults), crossing the border without a visa because they couldn’t get one, but were fleeing poverty, and the available unskilled jobs in the U.S. were plentiful. They grew up here, went to school, married a U.S. citizen, raised children, paid taxes (immigrants can do this legally with a Tax ID Number), had no criminal history and became a valued part of the community.
People assume there must be a way for a person like this to “get legal.” Two key immigration laws often make it impossible.
The ‘ten-year unlawful presence bar’
Under INA 212(a)(9)(B)(i), if someone is present in the U.S. without legal status for more than a year and then leaves, they’re barred from returning legally for 10 years. This law was enacted in 1996 to discourage overstaying visas or living here unlawfully, but critics argue it has had the opposite effect.
In many cases, people who entered unlawfully but later qualify to apply for legal status must leave the U.S. and go to an interview at a consulate abroad — even if sponsored by a U.S. citizen and having lived here for decades.
The catch: The moment they leave for their consular interview, the 10-year bar is triggered. Unless they qualify for an extremely difficult waiver — which many people don’t — they’re stuck outside the country. So, even when a legal path exists on paper, the price can mean a decade of exile.
The ‘Inspection and Admission’ rule
Under INA 245(a), you generally can’t apply for Legal Permanent Resident status (a “green card”) from within the U.S. unless you were lawfully admitted or paroled — usually meaning you entered with a visa — and have a U.S. citizen spouse or adult child to petition for you. This is why those who overstay temporary visas often have more options than those who cross the border. Generally, you must be a Legal Permanent Resident for at least five years before you may apply for U.S. citizenship.
Thus, if you weren’t admitted or paroled, you must leave the U.S. for an interview at a consulate abroad to finish your permanent resident application process. But, again, leaving triggers the 10-year bar. As explained above, in practice, these two laws work like a trap:
You can’t get permanent resident status from within the U.S. if you weren’t admitted lawfully. You must attend your final interview abroad. Yet, if you leave, you trigger a 10-year ban.
Only those who qualify for limited waivers can overcome this legal conundrum. The result is that many undocumented immigrants with citizen spouses, lifelong presence in the U.S., no criminal history, and strong community ties have no realistic way to “fix their status.” For many, it’s not about refusing to do things “the right way.” Often, the law simply doesn’t provide a workable path, no matter how long they’ve been here or how law-abiding they are. There is no “final exam” offering legal status.
I’m often contacted by friends, in-laws, or employers who are seeking to help immigrants, only to have them leave disheartened after learning it’s not enough to have an American citizen friend willing to pay money or sign forms to get their friend “legal.”
The Visa Bulletin backlog
Another major issue is the U.S. Department of State’s Visa Bulletin. Think of it like a deli ticket system. When someone petitions for a relative — other than an immediate relative of a U.S. citizen (e.g., spouse, minor child, or parent) — that relative’s petition gets a “priority date,” their place in line. Each month, a new bulletin is published showing which ticket numbers are called.
The problem: The wait is years long, and you can’t immigrate to the U.S. until your priority date is called. For example, in this month’s Visa Bulletin, if you are a Mexican citizen and your U.S. citizen sibling petitions for you, you’ll have to wait 25 years outside of the country before the priority date becomes current.
Congress set strict yearly limits on these visas through the Immigration Act of 1990. Those limits haven’t meaningfully increased since, even though the economy and need for labor have grown significantly. Today, most relatives wait years or decades. Even spouses and children of permanent residents must generally wait years in their home country before reunification due to the backlog and because the law doesn’t allow them to wait here.
Families face a painful choice: stay apart for years — even decades — in separate countries while in line, or enter the U.S. without status and risk deportation. Imagine a U.S. citizen who petitioned for her sister from Mexico in 2001. That petition would still be pending today. Meanwhile, children grow up, and relatives die before reunification. Decades pass. By the time a visa is available, lives have been lived.
Because quotas set over 30 years ago haven’t kept pace with demand, the line is impossibly long even as the U.S. economy continues to rely on immigrant labor. Studies from the Congressional Budget Office and the Brookings Institution point out that immigration boosts U.S. economic growth, expands the labor force, and helps offset an aging population.
When we assume this is simply a matter of people not respecting laws, it’s easy to dismiss undocumented immigrants as unfit to live in a “nation of laws.” This assumption often shuts down meaningful conversations about what our laws actually do, whether they are working and whether they reflect American values. As citizens, our civic duty extends far beyond just insisting on enforcement of the law. The American experiment relies on an educated citizenry that speaks up when our laws fall short of our country’s ideals. For Christians, that duty applies particularly when laws don’t affect us personally yet affect the most vulnerable.
It’s clear that our country benefits from immigrants answering the call for unskilled labor, that our immigration system is broken and that we value keeping families together. What’s missing is the political will to update this system to reflect our values, and support our economy, all while simultaneously protecting our borders. This begins with a well-informed populace and legislators who understand this is about more than just immigrants not caring to do things “the right way.”