Life and the border / La vida y la frontera
The Deseret Morning News begins a three-part series today on immigration, legal and illegal. The series explores immigration's impact on the lives of people in both the United States and Mexico, as well as the resulting interdependence of the two nations' economies.

ZACATECAS, Mexico — Maricela Naranjo's two youngest children are dressed in crisp white clothing, playing in the pews just before their baptisms.

It should be a joyful occasion. But as she watches them peeking over benches in the small Catholic church, Naranjo's eyes well up with tears. Today, her family is together. She knows it's only a temporary reprieve.

"I need to wait — I don't know for how long," says Naranjo, who after spending much of her adult life in Wendover, was deported from Nevada after pleading guilty to identity theft. "I don't want to stay here."

Her husband, Jaime Naranjo, and the couple's three children are all native-born U.S. citizens. But she crossed the border from Mexico to the United States illegally and needed falsified documents to work.

She was one of the unlucky undocumented workers who got caught. After her conviction, she turned herself in to immigration authorities for deportation as part of an agreement to avoid jail time.

Her story isn't uncommon. Thousands of mixed-status families have some members who are U.S. citizens or permanent residents and others who have no legal status.

As Congress stalls in trying to resolve the nation's immigration woes, the Department of Homeland Security estimates that the undocumented immigrant population in the United States grew by an average 408,000 each year from 2000 to 2004. The flow continues, as people seeking a better life are lured by the promise of better jobs and a brighter future for their children.

Unwitting victims

Maricela Naranjo is no different. Raised in rural Zacatecas, she grew up sharing one bedroom with her parents and siblings. She crossed the border when she was 19, hoping to help herself and her family improve their lives. She later met Jaime.

It was after her son Jaime Jr. was born that she purchased the name, Social Security number and birthday of Yvonne Carrasco from a document vendor because she needed to work to support her son.

She knew it was against the law, but she had no idea that years later, it would lead to complications for another mother nearly 800 miles away in Tulare County, Calif.

That woman, the real Yvonne Carrasco, has lived her entire life in rural Tulare County where she lives in a one-room shed-like building in the back yard of her boyfriend's mother's home