Alejandro Angel Cuevas wants a card for Christmas. So does Javier Rivas.
It’s not a gift card they would like but a government-issued identification card.
A card that could make life easier if they are stopped by local police and need to show a reliable proof of who they are. Something basic: a card with their picture, date of birth, physical measurements and their address (if they have one), would be useful for them and for police.
“If I am walking and the police stop me, I would like to show them a card which would make it easier for them to know who I am,” said Cuevas, who has been in Tucson for five months. He has a Mexican voter card with his photo but that doesn’t cut it.
Both men are day laborers who, with other men, gather in the early mornings at Southside Presbyterian Church waiting for someone to come by with job offers. The men arrive as early as 5 a.m. with the hope of getting hired to dig ditches, paint, trim branches or do some other manual labor. As the hours pass, the number of men waiting wanes and the unlucky will linger in the church’s parking lot at South 10th Avenue and West 23rd Street till about midday with the hope that someone will arrive late with a job offer, however meager.
The parking lot is a safe zone of sorts for the men, who are supported by the church and its congregation. The men help each other out and share information and swap stories. They also have a network of support and protection that they call upon if any of them are stopped by police and turned over to immigration agents. Most of the laborers, but not all, are living here without authorization.
An ID card, said the men, would minimize misunderstandings or disputes with police.
“I have a card from the workers’ center but that does not help me,” said Rivas, who lives with his wife and has lived in Tucson for eight years.
He said he has been stopped by police who asked for identification and it was difficult and worrisome while officers determined his identity. He said he has no police record and when his identity was confirmed, he went on his way.
This could be avoided, said Eleazar Castellanos, a day laborer activist and coordinator of the workers’ center.
Castellanos, who is out in the parking lot in the mornings with the laborers, said police often spend valuable time ascertaining a person’s identity when a card could be more effective and valuable. He said there have been times when a police officer stops a laborer, asks for identification and ends up driving the worker to his residence where the worker has some form of identification.
“The first question a police officer asks is ‘show me your identification,’” Castellanos said in Spanish. “It doesn’t matter if you are walking to the store for milk, or worse, if you are driving.”
While the ID card would not establish the legal status of a person carrying the card, it could lessen their chances of being turned over to immigration agents, Castellanos said. The officers have wide discretion over whether or not to call Immigration and Customs Enforcement, he added.
The workers’ effort to get identification cards is not new. For more than a year the workers and their few allies have attempted to garner support among congregations and elected officials.
Castellanos said the city’s Presbyterian churches stand behind the workers’ wish for ID cards. But they could use more support, he said.
“Many congregations have members with the same problem because they do not have ID cards,” he said.
The coalition has also talked to members of the Tucson City Council but so far there has been no move toward the city issuing ID cards.
Cuevas and Rivas live hard lives, relying on daily jobs and the whims of those who employ them. Some days there are no jobs. And sometimes when they do hop onto a truck to go to work, at the end of the day the contractor whiffs on paying them.
There is so much uncertainty in their daily lives. But an ID card would go a ways to making their lives a bit better.
“It is important for us and for me,” said Cuevas.
