No Dream Act, but dream thrives
The door of the storefront church opened, and Bernard Pastor took three steps inside into the arms of his weeping mother.
They rested their heads on each others’ shoulders and hugged tight for almost a minute. The other 75 people in the church – including Pastor’s father, sister and brother – who had stayed to greet him following their regular Saturday night service patiently awaited their turn in an informal receiving line. They turned folding chairs around to face the back of the church. They stood and applauded when Pastor walked in.
“Part of my heart was taken from me. He is my baby,” his mother said. “My heart is full once again.”
Pastor, 18, a 2010 Reading High School graduate, had not seen his family since Nov. 17. That night Springdale police detained him following a minor traffic accident. He could not produce a driver’s license and was found to be an illegal immigrant without documentation.
Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) released Pastor on Friday on “deferred action status,” at which point he became a recognized person by the U.S. government. Instead of coming home, Pastor was whisked by immigration reform advocates to Washington, D.C.
He flew there to promote passage of legislation in the Senate that would allow a narrow path toward naturalization for Pastor and other young undocumented immigrants like him. On Saturday, the measure fell five votes short of the 60 needed to bring the Dream Act to a floor vote.
Pastor – despite fatigue and still wearing the same red sweater, jeans, black cap and white sneakers he was wearing at the time of his arrest – had a second flight to make back to Columbus and then a drive home to Greater Cincinnati.
At 10:45 Saturday night, accompanied by Hispanic civil rights advocate Leo Pierson, Pastor finally got to the church to be reunited with his loved ones. Every time the door opened before his arrival, his mother and father jerked their heads in search of their son.
• Photos: Pastor homecoming Saturday
• Photos: Bernard Pastor rallies
Pastor hugged everyone: his father, sister, brother and church members.
“Thank you for your prayers,” he said softly into the ear of a female church member who embraced him tightly.
Pastor volunteers as a youth minister in the church.
Several children hugged him around his legs.
“I admire him so much,” said one girl, age 10. “He is such a good person.”
Pastor’s sister, two years older, looked at the drum set at the front of the church. “No one could fill Bernard’s place,” she said. “No one can play the drums like he can.”
“I could not sleep, I could not eat,” his mother said. “Hispanic people make tamales for Christmas. I prayed to God that I would not make tamales this year unless Bernard came home. God answered my prayer.”
“I don’t like tamales,” said Pastor, who stood near his mother.
Earlier Saturday in Washington, he had his first hamburger in more than a month. “It was great,” he said.
Held in federal detention north of Columbus in Morrow County since Nov. 22, Pastor said he was the youngest deportee he met there. “They fed us beans,” he said.
His father led a prayer, thanking Pierson and his son’s lawyers and all the people who supported Pastor, especially the Reading High School community of teachers, classmates, students and their parents.
“God never arrives too early,” his father said in prayer. “God never arrives too late. God always arrives exactly on time.”
Pastor said he wouldn’t take off his cap. “I don’t know what my hair looks like,” he said earlier.
He did, however, remove it during the group prayer and wrapped an arm around his mother.
Despite their strong faith, the family struggled during Bernard’s absence.
“The past month has been very difficult for us because Bernard was in jail,” his father said. “The hardest part was seeing my wife and children suffer.”
Saturday night was a time to celebrate. A social center as well as a church, members and guests were given bottled water and cans of lemonade and Coca-Cola from a refrigerator in the back of the space.
The American theme held to the meal. The Pastors had about 20 pizzas delivered.
Bernard Pastor, born in Guatemala and brought to the United States at age 3, took two pieces of pepperoni. He was too excited to eat. He ate a few small bites before putting down his plate. He sipped a can of Coke.
He had met Sen. George Voinovich, R-Ohio, on Saturday morning before the Dream Act vote, at the senator’s Washington office. Voinovich voted against the legislation because, he said, passage of the Dream Act would prevent Congress from tackling the larger and more complex issue of overall immigration reform.
As Pastor shook Voinovich’s hand, he said, “With all due respect, Senator, I know this is my country as much as it is yours.”
An honor student, community volunteer, soccer star and homecoming king at Reading High School, Pastor has said repeatedly that he is an American in everything but his birthplace.
Back in Greater Cincinnati, the party at the church would go strong well past midnight. The morning service was cancelled. Church would be back in session at 1 p.m. Sunday.
Word of Pastor’s release was celebrated throughout the Hispanic community in Greater Cincinnati.
At San Carlos Borromeo Catholic Church, Carthage, the Rev. Jorge Ochoa made three references to Pastor’s release during the Mass starting at 11:30 a.m.
“The Dream Act did not pass, but the dream has not died,” Ochoa said. “We are going to continue to work and pray for all of the dreamers (young people). We have news of a young man who was in jail and has been let out. We thank God that this case turned out well.”
A few hours earlier, back at the homecoming celebration, friends shook Pastor’s hand or hugged him before walking out the door.
“I felt very sad, and we felt very incapable of doing anything – except to pray – when Bernard was detained,” said church member Walfre Solis, 25, a permanent U.S. resident born in Guatemala. “Tonight is a night of great celebration.”
Pastor, clearly running on adrenaline, spoke in both English and Spanish to well-wishers.
As the party wound to a close, he summarized the whole experience of detention and his whirlwind 20 hours in Washington.
“It isn’t as bad in jail as you think it would be. It was so cool to fly for the first time. I can’t believe I met a senator and was in the Capitol building.”
Then he sighed and took another sip of Coke.
“It’s just so good to be home.”