http://www.boston.com/yourtown/news/...e_id_film.html

The immigration debate: statistics, stereotypes, fear. As Massachusetts discusses joining the federal Secure Communities program, the film "ID? (?Identidade?) turns policy into people. The Somerville Arts Council screened the 56-minute Portuguese-language film at Somerville Community Access Television Feb. 24.

It's impossible not to feel sympathy for João, a father of two with rod-straight posture whose job hunt is seriously complicated by his lack of legal status. He owns a house with a leather sectional and granite-topped kitchen island; his mother-in-law has lived in the United States for 25 years; but none of that protects him. The financial crisis becomes an emotional one, fracturing the family.



That community is the largest immigrant group in Somerville, according to 2005-2009 Census data from the Somerville Arts Council. The estimate is about 4,000 people, but the figure is probably a lot higher. The Census found 73,540 Brazilian immigrants in the state, said MAPS communications coordinator Renan Leahy in an e-mail, though "the real numbers are much higher" because undocumented immigrants often refuse to fill out forms.

Stereotypes aside, and acknowledging the lack of data, Zicker and Lemos thought that in the Brazilian community, many face situations similar to João's.


Older daughter Clara (Paola Tristan) struggles with identity as a personal issue and a school essay contest topic.
The situation isn't the same one Somerville's past immigrants faced, Zicker said. Italians, Irish, Portuguese, Greek, "They came here in a time it was not hard to come here legally and get documents and become part of this country - things have gotten tougher and tougher."

Leahy agreed. People don't know "how difficult it is for an immigrant to become a US citizen," he said in an interview, pointing to a Reason magazine infographic. Just filing for an extension on Leahy's own visa next month will cost $2,500. The best-case scenario takes years. In the next five to 10 years, Leahy said, "we'll see a drastic change" in the number of people who get through the pipeline.

Partway through this conversation, immigration status starts to look a whole lot more fluid than the binary idea of: you're legal or you're not.

Surprisingly, people back in Brazil aren't necessarily aware of the challenges. "There are a lot of misconceptions," Zicker said. With so little experience receiving immigrants, Brazilians don't think much about it. Most people who leave Brazil grew up in poor places, often rural, "They come here looking for a better life," Leahy said.

(The typical immigration debate tends to blur class differences. Rather than work 80-90 hours a week and send all his money home, "I decided to live in the United States truly as a man and not as a slave," said Lemos, a Somerville resident. "It's a big conflict with my family.")

But the movie isn't about immigration per se to Lemos. As the title says, it's about identity.

João's Macbook-using teen daughter Clara struggles to write an essay on the topic. "You are Brazilian," João tells her. "Write about Brazil." And it's true she was born there, but she objects: "I don't remember much." (It could be testimony for the Dream Act.)

His mother-in-law reveals it took over 20 years to get a legal ID. It didn't make a difference to her sense of self. "I've never lost track of who I am. I never lost my dignity for not having an ID," she says. "Your identity is what you are. Not a piece of paper."

But João refuses to get a fake - believing, it seems, it would mean denying his true self. That spells his doom. As the federal agents slap on the cuffs, they just wish João had a fake ID so they wouldn't have to bust him.

For Lemos, identity lies in personal traits, not legal categories. He purposely holds onto his Brazillian accent. Without it, "I think I'm going to lose my identity," and with it, his power as an artist. He questioned "Why you need to have a document to be a human."

The conundrum seems impossible. On the one hand, anyone in Somerville without papers could be deported at any time, and if Zicker and Lemos are right, that's a significant number of people. On the other hand, Brazilian culture has threaded so thoroughly through Somerville it's hard to imagine the city without it.

There's the juice bar on a quiet residential block. The churrascaria run by a Salvadoran immigrant family because it's a good business bet. The women in tight skirts and heels at a Winter Hill pizzeria Friday night, or a Somerville Ave. club.

Lemos's day job is at Johnny Rockets. The owner and one server were born in the United States, he said. The manager, supervisors, all the other servers and the entire back of the house are immigrants. Working at a fake American diner, pushing the American dream.