Standing in line with a large bag and suitcase at the San Ysidro pedestrian border crossing, among the many others waiting to enter the U.S., was a 40-year-old mother who was deported to Mexico 14 years ago.
When she reached the end of the line, Marilú Montalvo was finally able to return Monday to the country where her U.S.-citizen children live. “God has given me this miracle to be able to come back,” she said.
Montalvo is the latest in a group of deported mothers who have waited more than a decade, under Democratic and Republican administrations, to legally reunite with their families in the United States. She was granted a U nonimmigrant visa, which is given to victims of certain crimes that either occurred in the U.S. or violated its laws.
The Tijuana-San Diego Dreamers’ Moms group was founded in 2014 to support deported women and mothers who had been separated from their families. While not officially tied to the DREAM Act, which allows certain youth who immigrated to the U.S. illegally as young children to remain legally in the country, the group’s name is an ode to the broader movement advocating for reform to keep such families together.
To date, five mothers have returned as a result of their advocacy.
Her return to the U.S. now is an especially meaningful victory given the political climate, as the new Trump administration prioritizes mass deportations and a crackdown on illegal immigration. While the effort has so far focused on undocumented immigrants — particularly those who have committed crimes while in the U.S. — immigrant communities fear visa programs may be targeted at some point, as well.
Yolanda Varona, who founded Dreamers’ Moms, returned to the U.S. herself three years ago, after requesting parole under the Immigrant Military Members and Veterans Initiative as a spouse of a former U.S. military member. She called Montalvo’s return “extraordinary” given the times.
“Many people told us that once deported, there was no way back,” she said. “But a mother’s love has shown that patience, perseverance, strength and love never give up.”
Montalvo, who came to the U.S. with her family when she was 10 years old, said she was always willing to wait and do whatever it took to return legally.
Montalvo lived in La Quinta in Riverside County. She said that in 2010, she was detained by immigration agents who told her that they had received a report that she was living in the country without documentation. In Tijuana, she opened a spa to earn a living.
Montalvo said she learned about the mothers’ group online. She was then connected with an immigration attorney who, after reviewing her case, determined that she qualified for a U visa because she had been a victim of a crime.
Congress created the U nonimmigrant visa with the passage of the Victims of Trafficking and Violence Protection Act in 2000. There is a cap of 10,000 U visas per fiscal year, according to U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services.
“Our immigrant communities are very likely to be victims of certain violent crimes in the United States, and because of the nature of their immigration status, many are afraid to cooperate with law enforcement,” said immigration attorney Filex Sánchez with Union Law Group in San Diego.
Sánchez, who was Montalvo’s attorney in the case, noted that so far the Trump administration has shown no hint that it could rescind the program. But uncertainty remains.
“To take away this tool would really impact the local communities that are victims of violent crimes,” he said.
Montalvo’s lengthy process to return to her family was further delayed by the pandemic.
“It’s very painful to be taken out of the country — to lose your home, your children, your family, your life,” she said. “But on the other hand, I think we have to make things right.”
Montalvo lamented missing much of her children’s lives; the youngest is 16 and oldest 20. “I know I can’t make up for lost time,” she said.
Montalvo, who was granted a four-year visa, said she will return home to Riverside County. She said she wants to study to become a nurse.
At the PedEast Port of Entry, Montalvo was welcomed by one of her best friends, whom she met at the spa she opened in Tijuana.
“It’s so good to see you,” said her friend Sujey Pon. “Was all the waiting worth it?”
“Yes,” Montalvo replied, “it was worth it.”
