He fled El Salvador and made a new life in Texas. Now he’s in limbo after court’s ruling

In 1997, 19-year-old Hipolito Zavala made the trek from El Salvador to the United States. The journey was dangerous. He could’ve been caught or killed. But it would all be worth it once he made it to the U.S., he thought.

The threat of drug cartels, bandits and kidnappers loomed along path of his 2,000- to 3,000-mile walk. There was also the chance he would get caught at the U.S. border and be deported.

Zavala made the trip in search of a better life, like millions of other Salvadorans. He figured it was better to risk his life to make it to an unknown country than to stay in the one he was born in. He knew nothing but his home country, his family and his language. But now, after 24 years, all he knows is the U.S.

“My family is all here,” Zavala said in Spanish. “In El Salvador, I don’t know anyone anymore.”

Coming to the U.S. presented an opportunity to get away from a country that was coming off a devastating civil war. While the war ended in 1992, El Salvador was still experiencing civil unrest, high crime and poverty. To this day, those are the biggest factors of Salvadoran migration, according to the Washington-based Migration Policy Institute.

Zavala is now 43, has three kids and lives in Mansfield, where he works at Klein Tools. He’s been able to work and make a new life in the U.S. because of the Temporary Protected Status designation given to Salvadorans.

But a recent Supreme Court decision sent shock waves to the thousands of TPS holders like Zavala who hoped to receive permanent status one day.

Earlier this month, the justices ruled that those who entered the country illegally and obtained TPS are not entitled to Legal Permanent Residency simply because they have a Temporary Protected Status designation.

Advocates and TPS holders hoped that the Supreme Court would have gone the other way and given those who entered illegally a pathway to citizenship after many have spent decades contributing to the country. In Texas alone, TPS holders contribute $1.4 billion annually to the economy, according to the New American Economy, a nonprofit that researches immigration. Across the country, that contribution balloons to $4.5 billion.

Who qualifies for TPS?

TPS is given to people whose countries experience war, environmental disasters or anything that prevents “the country’s nationals from returning safely, or in certain circumstances, where the country is unable to handle the return of its nationals adequately,” according to the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services.

Zavala is one of 251,567 Salvadorans who have TPS, according to the National Immigration Forum. Nearly 40,000 of them live in Texas. Zavala’s status allows him to work and live in the U.S. without fear of deportation.

People from Honduras, Haiti, Nepal, Syria, Nicaragua, Yemen, Venezuela, Burma, Sudan, Somalia and South Sudan also qualify for TPS. There are over 400,000 people with TPS in the United States.

Zavala was caught entering illegally but didn’t show up for his court hearing and was ordered to be deported. He still has that order on him, but TPS protects him from deportation but it does not grant a pathway to citizenship, according to the law and the recent ruling.

Those who came illegally and then received TPS don’t have a pathway, said Felix Villalobos, an immigration attorney based in Dallas.

“For those in Texas, nothing changes if it doesn’t go your way because it’s never gone your way before,” Villalobos said. “That’s always been how immigration has treated TPS.”

Villalobos said there used to be a way for TPS holders to get rid of their unlawful entry status. They would ask the government permission to return to their country and then make a legal entry. The holder then would be eligible to start their pathway to citizenship.

But the Trump administration ended that — limiting the chances for TPS holders to gain permanent status.

Mark Jones, a political science professor at Rice University, said TPS is a tricky issue because the government granted protection to residents of some countries for issues that have long passed, but also because those with TPS have become model citizens who contribute to the economy.

“TPS has been for a patchwork or duct tape approach to immigration and it shines a light on our failures over the past 20 years to adopt comprehensive immigration reform,” Jones said.

U.S. Rep. Eddie Johnson, a Democrat whose district covers Dallas County, said in an email that the American Dream and Promise Act, which passed the House of Representatives in March, gives all DACA and TPS holders a pathway to citizenship.

“The Supreme Court’s unanimous decision earlier this month in Sanchez v. Mayorkas yet again reiterates the need for Congress to act and pass comprehensive immigration reform,” Johnson wrote.

The bill has moved to the Senat, where hearings have been held with the Committee on the Judiciary.

U.S. Rep. Marc Veasey, a Democrat whose district covers Dallas and Tarrant counties, said in an email that the Supreme Court’s decision opens the door for Congress to pass a “comprehensive solution to protect immigrants across our country.”

“Here in Texas, immigrants play a vital role in our local economies and communities,” Veasey wrote. “I implore the Senate to work with the House of Representatives and the Administration to pass these pieces of legislation and help create a pathway for comprehensive immigration reform legislation.”

Jones said the Biden administration can reverse Trump-era policies. Congress can work together to create a meaningful immigration reform, but it seems unlikely that Democrats and Republicans will reach a compromise right now.

TPS is temporary

Zavala said although he’s known TPS is temporary he has lived in fear for the past 20 years. That’s because any administration can end the program. The Trump administration tried to end the program for Salvadorans but the action is being fought in court.

“We feel a bit protected, but one small mistake can be the end of it,” he said.

Zavala has a daughter who will be of age to sponsor him. He’s been in talks with an attorney to see his best options, such as requesting a pardon for deportation or whether he needs to return to El Salvador.

For many who entered illegally and then received TPS, a child or spouse sponsorship would not be enough under the ruling, Villalobos said.

For others the path is different. Clemen Herrera, 43, a Salvadoran who also entered in 1997 and received TPS in 2001, didn’t have an order for deportation. Herrera left the country and re-entered in 2001 before the Trump administration and is on the way to citizenship because of her child.

But before that, she lived with anxiety that at any moment it could be taken away. She knows too well what other Salvadorans are going through. Her hope is that the Biden administration or Congress can change things for TPS holders.

“I want a law that will give people residency,” Herrera said in Spanish. “It’s been a long time.”