“We are a primary target, whether we like it or not,” reflects 87-year-old Monsignor James Kelly as he discusses his mission of aiding immigrants amidst the Trump administration’s plans for mass deportations.
We met at District 3 Immigration Services, a modest office located along a bustling Brooklyn thoroughfare, with a glimpse of the Manhattan skyline in the backdrop.
Originally from Adare, County Limerick, Fr. Kelly embarked on his journey in Rome to learn Italian. Upon arriving in New York in 1960, he found himself serving in a parish predominantly composed of Italian speakers.
“I trained to be a lawyer, somewhat reluctantly,” he admits, a testament to his diverse skill set for the community he serves.
Over the decades, he has witnessed a cascade of newcomers from various nations—Germany, Italy, Ireland, Poland, and now, Latin America—helping them secure U.S. citizenship while learning multiple languages himself along the way. “We teach them English and accompany them to court,” he shared with RTÉ News. “We assist them in adjusting their status legally. We won’t do phony papers.”
The center offers legal services at significantly reduced rates, with most of its funding stemming from a property leased to the U.S. Department of Education.
As President Donald Trump’s immigration policies expand across the nation, Father Kelly—affectionately known as Padre Kelly—expresses concern over the potential impact on services like his own. “Thanks be to God, we haven’t been bothered by Trump so far,” he noted, crossing his fingers. “This office has not been raided.”
However, despite this temporary reprieve, the center, which serves around 60 to 70 immigrants each day—many of them undocumented—bears a palpable sense of trepidation.
Upon entering the waiting room adorned with Catholic posters, photographs of Fr. Kelly’s meetings with the Pope, and the American flag, you can find a dozen individuals sitting nervously in line, clutching documents. Others pace anxiously by the window, facing the lively street outside.
Most of those present shied away from the camera, averting their faces. However, one individual—a U.S. citizen seeking guidance for her father’s expiring green card—was willing to speak up. “People are scared,” Fr. Kelly remarked, addressing the collective anxiety.
Though many still seek his counsel, they have grown reluctant to share how they entered the United States. With the administration’s firm stance on deportation for illegal border crossings, Fr. Kelly noted, “Before Trump, we used to receive so much information, but now, that has stopped.”
“They don’t understand that we’re independent and not connected to immigration,” he added. “Their concerns are twofold: fear of losing their jobs and the looming threat of deportation.” Fr. Kelly acknowledged the lack of control over immigration in the early years of the Biden administration, a scenario that, he feels, allowed Trump’s policies to gain traction. “It’s better for us if they’re overseeing it because we operate within the legal framework—we have no issues with that,” he stated.
Yet, the heart of the matter lies in uncertainty.
Fr. Kelly expressed his struggle to provide clear guidance to clients who have established their lives in the U.S. for years, many with pending immigration cases. “What’s Trump going to do with all these people?” he pondered, embodying the collective anxiety surrounding these policies.
Although he has officially retired, Fr. Kelly remains a constant presence at the office, now walking with a cane following a health scare. The daily operations, however, are expertly managed by 26-year-old Princess Reinoso, praised by Fr. Kelly for her “excellent legal mind.”
Born in the U.S. and raised in an Ecuadorian community in Brooklyn, Ms. Reinoso notes that there are indeed positive outcomes to stricter immigration measures. While most migrants seek better lives, some have unfortunately brought “guns and violence,” she recounted, highlighting her community’s heightened sense of vulnerability. “I’ve been to Ecuador, and I’ve seen what happens there,” she said, reflecting on the potential risks. “I thought—uh-oh, is this becoming Ecuador too?”
The fear of deportation has prompted some to “fix up their act,” but fear grips many others as well. “People have stopped attending church or sending their children to school due to concerns over ICE raids. Some have even chosen to leave the U.S. entirely,” Ms. Reinoso explained.
She pointed out that images of criminals often “have a Latino face,” perpetuating a narrative that demonizes Latin American immigrants. This bias has affected perceptions of her identity as well. “Because I’m not white and blonde, people don’t see me as a U.S. citizen,” she said.
For the undocumented who are already woven into the fabric of American society, with jobs and children in schools, the best hope lies in some form of amnesty—though that seems implausible in the current climate. The Trump administration has sought to erode birthright citizenship and recently invoked the wartime Alien Enemies Act to expedite deportations.
Reflecting on his experience, Fr. Kelly shared, “In my 65 years of work, this is the most hostile atmosphere I have seen for undocumented immigrants.” He reminisced about the Italian immigrants who arrived in 1968, observing that they were met with compassion as victims of an earthquake. “Adjusting their status was straightforward, as it was for the Irish as well,” he recalled.
Since the New York Times published an article about him, Fr. Kelly has heard from several individuals he assisted in obtaining citizenship years ago, many of whom have thrived in fields like law and medicine. “I didn’t know you were still doing this work,” they’ve told him, some even sending donations. His alma mater, St. John’s University, reached out to honor him, recognizing his long-standing commitment. “I’ve been here since 1960; I’ve watched these kids and their families grow,” he noted with pride.
In his local community, Fr. Kelly enjoys a kind of celebrity status. “It’s quite amusing,” Ms. Reinoso said. “If you walk down the street with him, people call out: ‘Padre Kelly!’”
As he reflects on his extensive experience working with immigrants in New York City, what does Fr. Kelly foresee for the future? “Only God knows,” he replied candidly. “God, and Mr. Trump.”
Edited By Ali Musa
Axadle Times International–Monitoring.
