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Adopted at the age 4 in the US, Now 31 ? San Antonio Haitian facing Deportation.

Web Posted: 01/06/2007 10:33 PM CST

Abandoned as a baby on the steps of a hospital on the outskirts of Port-au-Prince, Martine Gregory was saved from joining the ballooning ranks of Haitian street orphans when a U.S. couple on a missionary assignment in the Caribbean nation adopted her.

She was 4 when she was brought to North Texas ? the only place she has ever called home. She has never felt like a foreigner, yet that's precisely what she is in the eyes of the government.

At 31, Gregory is fighting a battle with the U.S. immigration system to stay in the country, remaining in legal limbo while awaiting deportation to Haiti.

"She's been ordered deported, and there's no other relief available," said Annie Monahan, a San Antonio immigration lawyer who helped Gregory. "I don't think there's anything under the law that can change her situation."

A government spokeswoman said Gregory hasn't been sent back because the Haitian government has not officially given its approval to accept her.

"As far as we're concerned, she was afforded due process of law," said Nina Pruneda with U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement in San Antonio. "We've done everything on our end, and all that's missing is a travel document from the Haitian Consulate to finish off the process."

Foreign children can gain U.S. residency and later citizenship through adoptive parents, but it's not automatic. As with any other immigration benefit, there's an application process.

But when Gregory's parents divorced when she was a teenager, her application was forgotten. She had no idea how the incomplete process would later affect her life. Her father has since died; her mother now lives in Georgetown.

Gregory was already growing into an emotionally troubled youth, and the divorce only exacerbated her anger and confusion. She became a problem student at school, often picking fights. She began drinking alcohol and smoking marijuana.

Soon after moving out of her parents' house to take community college classes, she was arrested and later convicted of taking part in a forged check scam amassing about $7,000. The felony conviction led to a deportation order because she was not a citizen.

But in a move by the government that Gregory can only chalk up to divine intervention, her banishment was halted ? legally, though temporarily ? and she was released on an "order of supervision," akin to supervised parole.

That came after she'd served nearly a year and a half in federal prison in San Antonio. It was while locked up that she met Jackie Banks of Victory Gospel Church on the East Side.

Gregory credits Banks, the church and her spiritual awakening for turning her life around. She was able to leave behind a wild life of late nights, drugs and mayhem, moving in with three other women helped by the church.

For the past month, she has been contributing to rent and bills through earnings from her restaurant job.

"She got here after living a dysfunctional life, but then she got it together," said Banks, whose husband, Donny, is the church's founder and pastor. "We're all so proud of her. Now, she's got her eyes open and she's helping others."

Despite the positive outlook, her immigration dilemma still loomed. In June, she went to an immigration office to replace her lost work permit, but instead of walking out with a new card, she ended up once again behind bars.

Apparently putting an end to her supervised release, the government told her she still had an order of deportation.

Her church community sprang into action. Dozens of letters supporting her case began pouring into the office of Marc Moore, who is in charge of deportations for ICE in San Antonio. The Political Asylum Project of Austin took up her defense for free.

The system took her through another unlikely twist. Instead of dispatching Gregory back to Haiti, Moore issued a new order of supervised release, leaving her in "deferred status," meaning that although she still faces deportation, she has been given a chance to stay with a renewable yearly work permit.

Deferred status is not even part of immigration law. It's a discretionary and highly unusual break, typically given to migrants with dire medical conditions.

Though thankful, Gregory doesn't understand why she's still at risk of being sent to a place she doesn't know. She feels helpless because neither she nor any supporter can do anything to change her status.

She's free, yet remains trapped.

"I made a stupid mistake, but I've been living my life right," she said recently after a Saturday prayer service at Victory Gospel Church.

"I can't even think about going to Haiti. I don't know anything about that place, can't even speak the language," she said, pausing.

"It'd be a death sentence," she muttered under her breath.

For now, Gregory is trying not to let the immigration situation consume her. She'd rather focus on her lifetime goals, such as marriage, raising a family, returning to college to earn a bachelor's degree.

If it all falls into place, she said, one day she may even reach her ultimate dream ? running her own church-oriented school of fine arts for troubled teens.