Armando Rivera, an unauthorized immigrant, lost his factory job in an immigration raid. His U.S. citizen children are eligible for health and food assistance from federal programs, but he’s not signing them up.

Maria de Jesus Fuerte hopes to become a legal permanent resident, so she’s avoiding using public benefits such as health coverage for her U.S. citizen child. Fuerte said her record must be “perfect.”

A 20-year-old college student didn’t seek medical help for several days after being raped. She said her undocumented status put her at risk of deportation if she sought help.

All three fear what they say is President Donald Trump's crusade to make life hard for immigrants. Soon, life may get harder: The federal government on Wednesday will release proposed rule changes that the Trump administration says will ensure that future immigrants and those seeking to adjust their residency status will be self-sufficient.

The proposed rules would change the way immigrants can be labeled a “public charge” -- i.e. overly dependent on federally funded social services. That designation can reduce immigrants’ chances of gaining legal status if they have used or are likely to use those benefits. Under the new rules, they could also be labeled a likely "public charge" in the future based on factors such as income, family size and whether or not they speak proficient English.

Armando Rivera at his home for 12 years in Commerce, Texas, on Sunday. Pictures of his children hang on the wall behind him. The Mexican immigrant has lived in the U.S. since 1995 and hopes to obtain legal status. (Obed Manuel / Staff )

The rules are months away from implementation, and legal challenges are expected. But immigration advocates and policy analysts say the new rules will put at risk the health of many low-income immigrants and their U.S.-born children.

Immigrants say they are indeed turning away from the use of social services because they’re afraid. But the fear, they say, is not new -- and the recently announced changes to public charge rules feel like yet another attack on the immigrant community.

Fuerte, a Mexican immigrant who came to the U.S. about two decades ago, has a U.S.-born daughter and is a leader in her Catholic church in Oak Cliff. She keeps up on the latest news reports on the proposed rule for those seeking green cards.

In the past, her daughter got health coverage through the Children’s Health Insurance Program, or CHIP. No more. Fuerte didn’t renew last year as her income improved, and now she plans to never use the program again. The proposed rules don’t impact the U.S. citizen children of unauthorized immigrants, but for Fuerte the message is clear and it isn’t worth the risk.

“We have to be perfect and advance forward,” Fuerte said after a recent Sunday Mass in Dallas. She said the proposed changes will be a “hard hit” for many immigrant families.

Maria Robles, an organizer at Faith in Texas, a religious organization that works with low-income families in North Texas, said many mixed immigration status families she’s worked with have told her they’ll stop using programs like the CHIP or SNAP. She said they don’t want to jeopardize any relatives’ chances at adjusting or drawing the attention of immigration officers.

“You’re talking about people who have jobs that sometimes don’t even pay past minimum wage, and it’s a really big deal because they might not have benefits at their job,” Robles said. “It’s going to be their U.S. citizen kids that are going to feel the impact.”

Robles herself lived in immigration limbo and obtained a green card after 30 years of uncertainty. Now, she said, she won’t risk attempting to adjust her undocumented husband’s status because it feels like the Trump administration is looking for any reason to deport or not grant people legal status.

Changes overdue?

The current definition of a "public charge" comes from a 1999 executive directive. It stated that an immigrant would be considered a public charge if the individual became primarily dependent on certain benefits.

In the past, using programs like Temporary Assistance for Needy Families, SNAP, Medicare and Medicaid usually would not lead to an immigrant being labeled a public charge unless they got more than 50 percent of their income from the benefits or used them for long-term care.

Immigration hardliners say an update of the definition of public charge is overdue.

“The ones in force now were developed in 1999 by the Clinton administration,” said Mark Krikorian, the executive director of the D.C.-based Center for Immigration Studies, a think tank promoting immigration restrictions. “And it is now long past time to fix that.”

Krikorian said stiffer regulations are needed because so few persons have been removed on public charge grounds in the past two decades. "It is almost never used," he said.

And those trying to emigrate from outside the country should face tougher rules, he said. “People who can’t pay their own bills shouldn’t be allowed to move here because they will be a burden on taxpayers,” Krikorian said.

Under a draft of the new rules announced Sept. 22, immigration officials would negatively weigh against an immigrant any use of Medicaid, SNAP, Medicare Part D and a few housing programs when processing requests for adjustment of status. It's the step necessary, for example, to get a green card allowing legal residency.

Dallas Area Interfaith organizer Socorro Perales (left) and churchgoer Maria De Jesus Fuerte discussed an upcoming political event after mass at Nuestra Se ora Del Pilar Catholic Church in Dallas on Sunday. (Obed Manuel / Staff )

Immigration officials would also have the discretion to declare that an immigrant would be likely to use these programs in the future, marking them as public charge liabilities before they even set foot in the U.S.

Income would also play a major role. For example, a household of four people would need an income of between 125 and 250 percent of the federal poverty guidelines to avoid having a mark against them that could make them a public charge. Making more than 250 percent would be weighed positively.

If an immigrant is deemed a public charge, their sponsor could fork over $10,000 for a bond to waive the public charge designation. The bond is forfeited if the immigrant uses one of the designated federally funded services.

Some critics say the new income guidelines show a clear bias for high-income immigrants. And would limit family-based reunification.

By DHS' own estimates, the new public charge rules would apply to about 380,000 immigrants each year. That more than doubles the average number of individuals currently subjected to review.

An early version of the proposed rule changes leaked in March had far more reach than the rules to be published this week, putting immigrants’ chances at staying in the U.S. legally at risk if they used benefits like the earned income tax credit or Affordable Care Act subsidies,

“Whether it was deliberate or not, the administration's floating of this broad threat over the last six months has already had the effect of scaring people, and it is super hard to turn that around,” said Anne Dunkelberg, associate director of the Health and Wellness team at the Austin-based Center for Public Policy Priorities.

Supporters of the new public charge definition say immigrant activists are over-reacting.

“The effect of the regs is likely to be a lot less than the critics claim,” Krikorian said. “Even from the restrictionist side, this isn’t some magical thing that is going to fix all our problems.”

A complicated case

Rivera was arrested in an immigration raid at a trailer factory about 100 miles northeast of Dallas in August. He hired an attorney, who has applied to adjust the Mexican’s immigration status -- to make him an authorized immigrant -- through a process called “cancellation of removal.”

It can be used once an immigrant is thrust into the deportation pipeline and then proves they’ve been in the U.S. for more than 10 years, have U.S. citizen children and no criminal record, among other factors.

1 / 2Armando Rivera stands outside his home in Commerce, TX, Oct. 7, 2018. The Mexican immigrant has lived in the U.S. since 1995 and is hopeful of obtaining legal status. (Obed Manuel/Staff)(Obed Manuel) 2 / 2Armando Rivera stands inside his home of 12 years, in Commerce Texas on Oct 7, 2018. Pictures of his children hang on the wall behind him. (Obed Manuel/Staff)(Obed Manuel)

Fewer than 6,000 were granted in 2016, the latest year for which there’s data, according to Justice Department statistics. But Fernando Dubove, his Dallas attorney, says Rivera has a strong case.

Now jobless, the 42-year-old and his family are living on his wife’s restaurant wages and the charity of local church groups. No matter how tempting, Rivera said his kids won’t be taking any government benefits.

“You can’t be receiving any government benefits” when you try to get a work visa, said Rivera, pausing. “And we aren’t.”

Unanswered questions

At Dallas Area Interfaith, a coalition of churches and nonprofits, organizers Josephine Lopez-Paul and Socorro Perales said they take phone calls almost daily about the draft proposal.

Many are from mothers with U.S.-born children who have stopped getting federally funded medical care or nutrition assistance for their kids, Perales said.

“It is just another piece in building a culture of fear,” Lopez-Paul said.

“So that we maintain a second and third-class society,” Perales added.

The depth of that fear was clear when a Dallas mother contacted Perales, who is an immigrant herself. Her 20-year-old immigrant daughter had been raped in April, the mother said.

The 20-year-old knew the man, thought he was like a big brother, a protector. Then, he wasn’t, said the young woman. “When it happened, I was in shock ... I fell into depression,” said the college student.

The Dallas Morning News doesn't typically disclose the identity of sexual assault victims.

The woman said it took her a week to work up the courage to seek medical help. She paid for the $125 exam in cash and $400 for follow-up visits. The doctor asked if she should call the police.

“I said, ‘No, because I am illegal and I’ll lose everything,’” she said.

Finally, in September, she reported the sexual assault to the police in College Station.

Nearly a decade ago, when her family moved to Texas, her father said it was for a better life.

”But throughout this, I learned there is no such thing as an American dream. It is like the American nightmare,” said the soft-spoken woman.

She is now doing an unpaid internship in a Dallas firm and hoping that one day she’ll be in a dream job, earning a paycheck as an architect.

Trump was elected in her freshman year of college. She theorizes that the Trump presidency could end when she graduates. “If they don’t elect him again, I may have hope with another president ... hope of laws changing.”