Las Vegas Sun

April 20, 2024

Waiting for the dream

Las Vegas residents Ranko and Marija Damjanac aren't pursuing U.S. citizenship for symbolic reasons.

Two years ago, Ranko's mother passed away in his native Bosnia - yet he could not attend her funeral. As a green-card holder, the trip required a special visa he couldn't obtain in time.

And the couple desperately wants to adopt a child. But because they are still waiting for the FBI to complete their background "name checks" - the last step in their naturalization process - they believe no adoption agency would accept their application. They've been waiting almost 2 1/2 years without any answers or even a clue as to why their case has been put on hold.

"Really, I would like to know what's the holdup," says Marija, a food service worker at the Rampart Casino. "We're simple people. We love this country and want to be good citizens here."

This sort of immigration-status limbo the Damjanacs and scores of other valley residents have found themselves in has caused them, in increasing numbers, to file lawsuits against the federal government.

Since the process slowed considerably after 9/11, thousands awaiting naturalization nationwide have sued the FBI, the Department of Homeland Security and U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services, in hopes of speeding up the process. The suits claim that the agencies are ignoring federal regulations that mandate that applicants who pass their exams be given a swearing-in date within 120 days.

Now, such suits are being filed in greater numbers in Las Vegas. At least half a dozen suits have been filed in U.S. District Court in Nevada within the last year.

For those like the Damjanacs, whose naturalization applications have been put on long holds, "the only way you really get (the process) working is to sue," says longtime area immigration lawyer Ed Prud'Homme. "We've been having success by litigating."

Peter Ashman, the Damjanac s' attorney and a past chairman of the local chapter of the American Immigration Lawyers Association, says feelings of helplessness can set in for these would-be citizens.

"A person does everything right. He pays the required fees, goes in for the test and passes it," Ashman says. But then sometimes, he says, the person is forced to wait, and wait some more, not knowing why his application has been held up.

Ashman says he has suits similar to the Damjanacs' in the works for local clients originally from Korea, Russia and Iran.

The jump from permanent residency, or green-card status, to citizenship brings many benefits. Only citizens can vote, petition for immediate relatives to become legal residents, and apply for certain government jobs. And then there are those less tangible but equally important advantages - like those the Damjanacs seek, to be able to travel freely and grow their family.

According to Marie Sebrechts, a spokeswoman for the citizenship and immigration agency, there are about 600 naturalization applications per month in Southern Nevada, or 7,200 per year.

In the fiscal year ending Sept. 30, she said, almost as many people, 7,131, became citizens - although it took some several years to go through the process.

Sebrechts said this fits with the fact that 99 percent of the name checks made in naturalization cases are resolved within six months. She said 80 percent are cleared within a couple of weeks.

FBI spokesman Paul Bresson said that when the bureau conducts a name check, agents look at a wide range of investigative, administrative and other records to see if the names have surfaced in any relevant national security cases.

"We need to be thorough, and all of the information has to get processed and reviewed," he said, if there's a "hit," or possible match with any such case.

Bresson said he couldn't comment directly on the Damjanac case but said cases like theirs could be delayed either because a hit was made or simply because of a lengthy backlog.

According to the FBI's Web site, the FBI was asked to conduct name checks for 3.3 million people in fiscal 2005, and 3.9 million people the year before.

FBI name checks are separate from the fingerprint checks that are also conducted for naturalization candidates. A Fingerprint test only checks the person's criminal history.

Until April, the fingerprint check was conducted at the beginning of the naturalization process and then came the interview and citizenship test. The name check was last. Now, said Sebrechts, both the fingerprint and name checks must be cleared before the interview stage.

The Damjanacs took their interviews and passed their tests on April 26, 2004.

"We were so happy," says Marija, 41, from the couple's small, well-kept Spring Valley home.

"Very, very happy," says Ranko, 47, a pizza delivery man who ran his own small grocery store in the Bosnian city of Mostar before they were forced to flee.

Ranko and Marija trip over each other's sentences. In this case, the words come in a jumble of English and their native Serbo-Croatian.

After fleeing Mostar when the Yugoslav wars started in 1991, the Damjanacs found their way to Munich, where they stayed with an uncle until 1997. At that point, still war refugees, they were looking for a more permanent home. Heading back to their home in the Balkans was impossible, they say.

Why America? "It's free, freedom, a better future," Marija Damjanac says. "Da, da," her husband chimes in.

They landed in the United States on Christmas Day, 1997, and shuttled between North Carolina, Chicago and Atlanta before finding Las Vegas six years ago, a region they say reminds them more of home.

They are close to fulfilling their dream, but they aren't there yet. A crucial piece is missing.

Ranko - who exclaims "I'm not terrorist; I'm not a criminal" - says he is concerned that as he approaches 50, it might become increasingly difficult to get approval to adopt a child. The clock is ticking.

In the last two years, the Damjanacs lobbied a staffer from Sen. John Ensign's office and other government officials, to no avail. So they decided to scrape together the money to pay for an attorney to file suit.

Marija says: "It's a last chance for us."

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