As US pushes deportations, new citizens take the oath and reflect – Tampa Bay Times

TAMPA — Dozens of immigrants from 64 countries became U.S. citizens at naturalization ceremonies last month in Tampa.
While the June 27 ceremonies marked the culmination of these individual journeys toward stability, they also took place at a time when immigration rules are changing — as is the very concept of citizenship.
U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services welcomed 818,500 citizens during the 12 months ending in September. About 93,300 became citizens in Florida, the second most after California. Tampa accounted for about 10,564, according to the agency.
What does becoming a citizen in 2025 mean? Is it for protection against tougher deportation policies? Or is it a dream they have long worked for, beyond the fear and uncertainty of today’s politics and orders to curb immigration?
Here’s what a few had to say.
Mitchell arrived in the U.S. in 2018 to pursue a master’s degree in business administration. For Mitchell, the U.S. brought the freedom to work and study at the same time. It’s hard to get a job unless you have a connection to the company in the Philippines, she said.
By the end of her master’s program, Mitchell knew she wanted to stay permanently and began looking for sponsorship. Relatives or a potential employer were both options, she said. Then she met her husband, and she filed for her green card a year later.
“The only thing that makes us a little bit concerned is it takes time,” she said. “We thought it would be eight months to a year. They don’t answer or send us a letter about what’s happening.”
On the drive to the naturalization ceremony, Mitchell said she saw a U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement car pulling someone over.
“Seeing it with my own eyes this morning while driving to the oath-taking, it opened my mind that I really have my citizenship to freely walk around the United States.”
Scott was raised by a blue-collar family in a small town outside of Toronto.
She started working at 14 to save for college. By the time she graduated, she had worked at Canada’s national bank, in fast food restaurants, for a hair salon and at the gym where she met her husband, Taylor. An American, he had been playing football for a Canadian team.
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Scott moved to Tampa with him in 2012, and they soon married. She applied for a temporary marital visa and became a permanent resident after two years. Learning about the naturalization process was difficult, Scott said. Her Canadian credit score didn’t transfer, and she had to navigate a new medical system.
“You’re kind of on a wild goose chase on the internet,” she said. “I think the whole process cost us about $20,000 that we didn’t really have.”
After having four children and starting an athletic training camp with her husband, Scott decided against renewing her green card that was set to expire on July 1. She applied for citizenship instead.
She knew that being a permanent resident meant she was still just a visitor, although she didn’t feel like one. Scott built her home, family and businesses in Tampa.
“There’s always that possibility of being deported,” she said. “If you’re not a citizen, you’re a visitor. I have no real rights, I’m here on a visa, I’m here on permission. I’ve always understood that.”
The country’s politics can overshadow the stories of immigrants who are excited about coming to the United States, she said. For Scott, America is still the best country to be in. She said the difficult naturalization process shows how strongly people want to live here.
“The biggest protections exist around the most sacred places,” she said.
On the day of his naturalization ceremony, Hernández thought about everything he had lived through since he crossed the southern border from Mexico in the early 1980s.
He worked in the fields of Texas, Pennsylvania and Florida, following the crops.
“Forty years have passed,” Hernández said. “It’s been a long time.”
He supported his family in Guatemala. He sent money to build them a decent house. He helped pay for his granddaughter’s education.
“I have worked hard in this country, and I can say that almost all my life is here,” said Hernández, from Lakeland. “The difference is that it feels complete because I’m a citizen.”
Hernández got legal status through the Special Agricultural Worker program that was part of the 1986 immigration reform. Now he feels proud to have achieved his own victory.
Hernández said he knows how much others are struggling and living in the shadows, afraid of being arrested or deported, with few legal options. That is why becoming a citizen at this time feels “even more special,” he said.
“How can they think of removing someone who works and does no harm to anyone?” Hernández said. “They should give them a chance.”
Urday came to the United States just before the COVID pandemic in 2020. One of her daughters, who lived here, filed papers for her to come legally.
Urday said that one of her biggest goals was to be a good example for her five children and her grandchildren. She also aimed to feel like part of the nation.
“Becoming a citizen is very special,” said Urday, a longtime police officer in Peru who works as a security guard in Clearwater. “I studied my citizenship lessons all the time, even while driving.”
Urday said there should be a path to legal status for people who have lived in the country for years and contributed to it. However, it is not always easy to tell who really deserves that chance and who has taken advantage of the system, she said.
“Sadly, this makes people see us all as if we were the same,” she said.
Even though Vital had a career and a good job as a lawyer, she moved to the United States in 2012 to be with the father of her children. He was living in Pennsylvania and filed papers for her. Three years later, she got her green card.
“You give up everything for the American dream,” Vital said.
Becoming a citizen was not easy. Vital, 45, tried for the first time in 2018, but she did not pass the oral test.
“I didn’t understand the questions the officer asked me,” she said. “It was hard for me, and I waited almost seven years before I tried again.”
On her second attempt, Vital said she had improved her English and studied with discipline because “becoming a citizen is something you never forget, and you need to do it right.”
Speaking about deportations and zero tolerance policies under the Trump administration, Vital, who works at a food distribution center in Tampa, called the situation both delicate and heartbreaking.
“It’s hard to see people here for 20 or 25 years who still don’t have legal status, often because they didn’t have the right help or information,” she said. “People should not have to go through something so cruel.”
As a new U.S. citizen, Vital feels more confident and eager to take an active role in her community.
“Now I can vote and have a voice.”
Lucy Marques is an education and immigration reporter. Contact her at lmarques@tampabay.com.
Juan Carlos Chavez is the immigration reporter, covering immigration, diverse communities and the intersection with politics. He can be reached at jchavez@tampabay.com.
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