Debt Restructuring in Mexico and Argentina - and Some Background to My Internship ....

Carlos Robles-Martinez

I have been abroad for nine weeks, two weeks in Mexico City and now I’m completing my seventh week in Buenos Aires. If you know me, and don’t know many details about the trip, you’re probably wondering, “Carlos, I thought you weren’t allowed to leave the country? What changed?”  And if you don’t know me, you’re probably wondering why anyone would ask that question.  All are fair questions.  Because of that, one of the goals of this blog is to reflect on my experiences and the research I am doing through the William Davidson Institute, and how that project allowed me to go back to my home country, Mexico, after such a long time away, and also travel to Argentina, a country I had always wanted to visit. Another goal is to shed some light on the latest immigration policies that allowed me to leave the U.S., and where they stand today.

Let’s start with a description of the trip’s purpose. As part of the Master’s in Public Policy at the Ford School, we are to complete a policy related internship or project. To that end, I applied to one of the William Davidson Institute’s fellowships.  My project is to research debt restructuring strategies used by Mexican and Argentinian multinational firms that borrowed the United States Chapter 11 law to restructure their debt after they fell under financial distress. I will talk more about the project and the findings themselves in a later blog entry.

With that in mind, I can now answer the question of how I was able to leave, and why that is a relevant question. This question is relevant because I was an undocumented immigrant. Back in 2010, my brother and I were arrested and put in a county jail for three days for having over-stayed our visas and not having documentation on us while traveling by train through New York.  We were then in risk of deportation.  After a long process, and with the help of the National Immigrant Justice Center in Chicago, we were allowed to stay in the country through Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA).  DACA is President Obama’s 2012 executive order to grant deportation relief and work authorization to undocumented immigrants who meet several requirements. 

Now, a quick clarification, I said up there that I was an undocumented immigrant. Technically, that’s true, because now I do have legal documents issued by the United States.  This puts me in a much more comfortable and safe situation than before, but DACA has many nuances. It does not let me apply for citizenship, it simply protects me from being deported, and it lets me work and live in the United States.  With it, I can keep paying income taxes, as I did before having DACA, and I am given a social security card in order to get a driver’s license, but I cannot to collect social security or receive any federal funds - like FAFSA.  This form of relief also does not allow me to leave the country for pleasure.  However, if given employment, educational, or humanitarian opportunities outside of the United States, I can apply for what the United States Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS) calls Advance Parole, to take advantage of that opportunity and not be penalized.  If I left the country for any other reason, I would not be able to return. Since my current research project is going towards completing a master’s degree, USCIS granted my Advance Parole, and I find myself writing this blog entry from a coffee shop in Buenos Aires while listening to some live Tango music. It had been eleven years since I had been outside of the United States.

Café Borges and a live Tango

Being in Argentina is by far one of the best things I have experienced, but the highlight of this trip was being back in Mexico after such a long time away. When I was fourteen and brand new to the US, I really wanted to go back home and would think about it incessantly. But after the realities of our situation settled in, I made peace with the fact that such a trip was very unlikely in any near future.  Eleven years later, I realized I had the opportunity to apply for a project that would allow me to return; I did so with caution, knowing that there was the possibility of getting Advance Parole denied.  It took about two months to get an approval, and even when I received the notice it was still hard to make sense of the feelings. I knew it meant I could finally go back, but it had been a long time since I had thought about that. I was excited to return, but I had no clue what to expect.

To keep this from getting too long, let’s fast forward to my arrival in Mexico. The first thing I noticed once there was that Mexico City is a mess!  One beautiful, beautiful mess, that although may deserve some of the bad reputation it has, does not nearly get enough credit for all the positive things it offers.  As one of the most populated cities in the world, anywhere you go, you will likely find a crowd of people.  Being there, I realized how much I missed being able to talk to everyone and ask for what I wanted just using my Spanish and not having to worry if they’d understand or not.  I missed making all the jokes I wanted with family I hadn’t seen in years.  And hearing everyone around me yelling things in Mexican Spanish, some hilarious, some gross, but all so refreshing.  One of the things I tried to do while in the U.S. was to maintain a full fluency of Spanish, which I think helped in making everything  feel so strangely familiar, even after all the years. I didn’t have to worry about anything getting lost in translation at all, and I could just focus on everything that was going on around me. Being able to walk down the street and really smell from some of the worst scents to some of the most delicious, mouthwatering ones that led you to a bakery, tacos, or a restaurant, all amazing.

Back in Mexico and eating everything within sight

I was also able to easily get used to their public transportation that, even though it is chaotic, takes you anywhere you need to be, and quickly. This level of comfort allowed me to fully enjoy this amazing city that somehow manages to maintain its roots while also being incredibly modern. There is such a rich history and so much to learn and see; from ancient ruins, to the Soumaya Museum; from street food, to some of the best restaurants in the world. I felt so fortunate to be there, and happier than I had been on a trip in a long time. While I was there, the only thing I was missing was my family, because they still have not had the chance to leave the U.S., and while they are happy for me, I know they wish they could have been there just as much as I had.

The Soumaya Museum in Mexico City

To begin closing, I don’t really want you to read this post and only take from it (aside from my love for Mexico City) that being undocumented in the United States is a really difficult experience, and have you try to relate to it. It undoubtedly is difficult. Instead, I’d rather bring your attention to the fact that there just is no real federal solution or way for “low-skilled” immigrants like my family, and their children to migrate to the U.S. legally. And when they do make it there illegally, and they lead productive and law abiding lives on after, there is no way for them to apply for a legal status, even after years of contributions to the country.  The closest we have come is DACA, which only applies to children of immigrants, but even that is at stake now.  Last February, a Texas judge issued an injunction before an expansion of the program was to take place. Two key features of the expansion were to get rid of the age cap for applicants, and also extend deportation relief to parents of U.S. born children. Since the injunction, millions of people still have to live their lives with extreme caution, tip-toeing their way to work and school every day.

With that shift in focus, I want you to be aware of what you can do. If you find yourself in a position where you can change policies or interact with people who are undocumented, please realize that you can help beyond only being aware of our issues. Institutions and employers alike need to know that the federal government often does not have institutional restrictions set at a national level. That means individual institutions can increase services for undocumented immigrants without federal permission or negative consequences. Some brief examples are: issuing private funds as scholarships, passing in-state tuition at universities, conducting professional development for human resources staff, or issuing healthcare and providing a fair wage to employees.  None of those are dictated by federal regulations, and have a huge impact on people’s lives.  And while there is no solution being put forth by the government, a change in our institutional practices can trigger a change in our mindsets, and ultimately lead to the change we have been working for.