A mother's urgent plea to stop ICE from deporting her daughters’ birth father tomorrow

I connected with Georgene Smith on Wednesday after seeing her post on Bluesky that the birth father of her daughters was going to be deported imminently. 

Kelvin Membreño—or Papa, as he’s affectionately called by the three girls—is currently imprisoned at Alexandria Staging Facility in Louisiana. After serving time in prison, he was set to be released to get a second chance at life and, most importantly, reconnect with the children who had been adopted by Georgene and her husband Rob. But a couple of weeks before his scheduled release, and just days after Donald Trump’s inauguration, Kelvin learned he was instead being transferred to Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) custody. 

After being held at Otay Mesa Detention Center in San Diego and then San Luis Regional Detention Center in Arizona, he was suddenly moved this week back to Otay Mesa, and then quickly to Alexandria. A check on the ICE website confirmed he’s in Louisiana, though ICE would not comment to The Handbasket on his deportation status. But Kelvin told Georgene and her family that he’ll be deported to El Salvador on Friday.

Though Kelvin’s deportation seems unstoppable at this point, I wanted to give Georgene this platform to make one last case for Kelvin before he’s sent to El Salvador where he could be incarcerated once more. Three American citizens are about to lose a birth father who did his time in this country, and he deserves to remain here as he heals. 

Here’s Georgene in her own words:

When my husband Rob and I became foster parents, and later adopted three sisters, we never expected we would think of their birth father, Kelvin Membreño, as the third parent in our family.

Kelvin came to the US in 2008 from El Salvador. He was incarcerated in 2016 for an armed robbery he committed before his youngest girl was born. As foster parents, we sent him photos of his girls and some of their drawings. This eventually grew to full-fledged letters, then video calls and in-person visits. Kelvin cried the first time he met his youngest daughter. I was surprised by his vulnerability. I was also surprised by how much the guards seemed to respect him.

Rob and I were impressed by a letter Kelvin sent us, thanking us for everything we did for his girls. When the girls struggled, Kelvin often intervened in ways we couldn’t. It was Kelvin, leveraging his own past bad choices, who got our middle girl to stop stealing. It was Kelvin who gently eased the oldest out of her fantasy that he and her mother would get back together.

Kelvin shaved a significant amount of time off his sentence for good behavior – more than three years. As his release date drew near, he took classes on reentry and made plans for post-release housing. The girls were scheduled to play in a basketball game the night of his release and I hoped to surprise them by bringing him to it.

All our hopeful plans shattered when Kelvin received a notice that he would be held past his release date so ICE could pick him up. Unbeknownst to us, he had missed an immigration hearing in 2015 and a judge had ordered his removal. We were devastated and hired a lawyer. 

Our petition to reopen asylum was denied, but the judge was empathetic. He offered another opportunity to petition, provided we included evidence of Kelvin’s rehabilitation and very specific documents from his arrest and court hearings. 

The proof of rehabilitation was easy. Kelvin had taken many classes while incarcerated, both general education and social emotional development. He dreamed of becoming a counselor to help men who, like him, struggled with addiction. Rob and I both wrote lengthy letters of endorsement, as did the girls and even some of his fellow detainees at the ICE facility. 

The law office scrambled to get the necessary court and arrest records, but the various agencies were slow to respond. The stay on deportation expired before everything could be collected. 

On May 21, another detainee at Otay Mesa Detention Center called Rob at 5AM to say Kelvin was being moved to Louisiana. We knew this was a step closer to deportation. Yesterday, our fears were confirmed. Kelvin was told he would be deported to El Salvador tomorrow.

California invested a lot to help Kelvin rehabilitate himself and I don’t understand the rationale of throwing away that investment. Deporting Kelvin deprives my children of a valued connection and deprives others of the rehabilitation assistance Kelvin could offer should he be able to become a counselor. To deport him now, when he is ready to be a productive, tax-paying member of society, seems like a waste of money, time, effort and Kelvin’s potential. 

I could be at peace with Kelvin’s deportation if I thought he would have a good life in El Salvador. He deserves his freedom.

Unfortunately, we have heard from Kelvin’s mother and other Salvadorans that Kelvin’s criminal record in the US could be held against him when he arrives. The likelihood that he will be incarcerated immediately is high. If that happens, we have no idea if he would ever be released. His deportation could be a life sentence for a crime California says is only worth twelve years. I struggle with the injustice of that and shield my fears from the girls.

Kelvin and I have not discussed the possibility of incarceration upon arrival but I know it is on his mind. When he called last night, it was clear he was worried it was his last chance to speak to us.

And with this weight bearing down on him, Kelvin did what he always does: he centered the kids and their needs. 

“Don’t worry about me,” he told each of them. “I’ll be okay. Work hard in school. I love you.”

When he got to his youngest daughter, he added, “Work hard to be a good doctor.”

Her face lit up when he said this, but I fought back tears. She’s dreamed of being a doctor since she spent five weeks in the hospital at the age of two. I thought Kelvin would get to see it happen.

ICE Office of Public Affairs can be reached at [email protected].