Madam is feeling the need to brew a cup of Lady Grey, put her feet up on the fluffiest of her fluffy ottomans, invite the dog to rest its chin on her knee, look into those sensible eyes, and murmur, "What are we thinking of?" The dog, of course, is extremely cognizant of the hazards and complexities of international travel and even, itself, possesses a valid passport. So it will not respond.
What is the cause of this disturbance in an otherwise unflappable consular officer of some experience? The news that yet another foreign gentleman was refused a nonimmigrant visa to visit his wife in the US.
Why was he refused? Two reasons.
First, his wife lives in the US.
Second, his wife has filed an I-130 for him, which at this moment is wending its way through our beloved NVC, will some day arrive at the post of her choice, and will some day result in an immigrant visa.
Were either of those reasons sufficient to create this refusal? Let's ask further.
Does the gentleman in question still have a job or other unfinished business in his own country? Yes.
How long does he intend to stay in the US on this visit? Two weeks.
Does he understand the immigration process and can he lucidly and without hesitation explain where he is in that process? Yes.
What is he doing to prepare to emigrate? He told his employer and his landlord that he will not renew his contract and his lease next year.
Finally, does the conoff find any reason to believe that the application for a tourist visa is only a pretext for an intent to stay permanently once allowed into the U.S.? No.
All his answers are unhesitating, straightforward, perfectly clear and express only the intent to visit and then return home to await the immigrant visa. In short, dual intent.
Of course, as usual, the world is divided into two groups. Thus there are two kinds of dual intent.
USCIS defines the first as, "entering the United States as a nonimmigrant with the intention of adjusting status to that of permanent resident." This is appropriate for, for example, a K-1 but not for a B1/B2.
To define the second, USCIS describes our gentleman in question as one of "those who may seek admission for a temporary purpose while independently pursuing a related or unrelated purpose to remain in the United States." USCIS further comments, "The difficulties encountered by those seeking temporary admission who have also expressed a desire to immigrate at some time in the future have caused severe personal hardship as well as inhibited frequent travel to the United States for business purposes."
Although one can normally resist the impulse to turn to Wikipedia as an authority, in this case it says correctly, "...there are times when individuals who are married to U.S. citizens are allowed into the United States on tourist visas or visa waivers. Such applicants for entry must demonstrate to the satisfaction of the consular or port official that their trip is temporary. That is, that they are likely to return to their country of citizenship, because they have no interest in immigrating for the purposes of the entry in question."
(Was this entry written by an immigration attorney? If so, it was written by an immigration attorney who knows what he's talking about, and it very tidily uses 214(b) as it is meant to be used.)
So if this foreign gentleman's only flaw is to be married to an American and to fully expect to immigrate in the future when his immigrant visa is issued and not a moment before that date, then - how can Madam put this delicately - just issue the visa: a full-validity B1/B2.
Then she can go back to her Lady Grey, and the dog can breath a long houndish sigh of relief.
Where U.S. consular officers can ...
... ask questions, answer questions, question answers, express frustrations, engage in debate, disagree, and tell their favorite consular stories, uncensored and anonymous.
Sensible immigration attorneys and puzzled visa applicants, petitioners, beneficiaries, and ACS cases are warmly welcomed, as well.
Sensible immigration attorneys and puzzled visa applicants, petitioners, beneficiaries, and ACS cases are warmly welcomed, as well.

Quote of the Month
“At any moment of the day or night, two thirds of the world’s people are awake, and some of them are up to no good."
- Dean Rusk
- Dean Rusk

Friday, July 31, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Beware. Be Very Ware.
From Madam's favorite cartoonist in the entire world (since Walt Kelly died), Hugh MacLeod at gapingvoid.com:
"After years of struggling in impecunious obscurity, a very old friend of mine recently had a bit of success in his business.
"Suddenly, everybody in the industry knew who he was, and would mob him at trade shows and conventions. People who wouldn't have given him the time of day only a year before were shamelessly throwing themselves at him, scattering business cards like confetti.
"My friend, the rock star. Who knew?
"Shortly after one of these little feeding frenzies, we meet up for a drink, as we do.
"He's telling me all about it. All the off-the-record stuff that happened. All these relentless people coming after him, like terriers on the bone.
"'How weird,' I say.
"'Sure is,' he says. 'Now I know what it's like to have a vagina.'"
This story reminds us of the FSO who in the very recent past had had some trouble getting dates, but has suddenly become the cutest, cleverest, most admired, most invited, most popular guy in the entire country, and everyone laughs at his jokes.
He is a consular officer in a high-refusal country. He issues US visas.
Madam calls this the big-frog-in-a-little-puddle syndrome. Like the very astute young businessman, the consular officer mustn't lose his balance. Mustn't lose perspective. Must beware.
Sometimes it helps to remember that in only a year or so we'll be back in Washington on the first day of a desk job, suddenly realizing that if we leave our tiny cubicle to get coffee we'd better carry with us that scrap of paper with the room number on it, since no one in the entire building knows or cares who we are and where we work. We might wander the halls unmissed and unneeded, as lost and hopeless as Banquo's ghost.
THAT is real life. Even for those of us who have vaginae.
"After years of struggling in impecunious obscurity, a very old friend of mine recently had a bit of success in his business.
"Suddenly, everybody in the industry knew who he was, and would mob him at trade shows and conventions. People who wouldn't have given him the time of day only a year before were shamelessly throwing themselves at him, scattering business cards like confetti.
"My friend, the rock star. Who knew?
"Shortly after one of these little feeding frenzies, we meet up for a drink, as we do.
"He's telling me all about it. All the off-the-record stuff that happened. All these relentless people coming after him, like terriers on the bone.
"'How weird,' I say.
"'Sure is,' he says. 'Now I know what it's like to have a vagina.'"
This story reminds us of the FSO who in the very recent past had had some trouble getting dates, but has suddenly become the cutest, cleverest, most admired, most invited, most popular guy in the entire country, and everyone laughs at his jokes.
He is a consular officer in a high-refusal country. He issues US visas.
Madam calls this the big-frog-in-a-little-puddle syndrome. Like the very astute young businessman, the consular officer mustn't lose his balance. Mustn't lose perspective. Must beware.
Sometimes it helps to remember that in only a year or so we'll be back in Washington on the first day of a desk job, suddenly realizing that if we leave our tiny cubicle to get coffee we'd better carry with us that scrap of paper with the room number on it, since no one in the entire building knows or cares who we are and where we work. We might wander the halls unmissed and unneeded, as lost and hopeless as Banquo's ghost.
THAT is real life. Even for those of us who have vaginae.
Labels:
ethics,
malfeasance
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
The Last Ten Percent of the Project
Andy did good again, with a great post * about closing ACS cases. Perhaps we can take that a step or two further and consider two more lists that badly need tidying up.
First, of course, is that annoying window in the lower righthand corner of the NIV page with the Watchlist Promotes and Watchlist Alerts. Madam has enormous sympathy for conoffs who threw up their hands after the umpteenth try to close out these items following Knowledegebase Selfhelp instructions that just seemed to encourage them to breed, and ignored them from then on. Madam was one of the conoffs who did just that. However there is a newer - updated 7/8/09 - instruction page on how to kill these, and she would love to know if this one actually works. It's here * under the title, "Remove WLIST PROMOTE and WATCHLIST Alerts From the System Messages Window."* Anyone?
Second, of course, is the email in box.
She will now remove her fingers from her ears, ignore the final, lingering groans, and remind us all of the first, primary, most basic, most important rule of time management: Handle each item only once.
What does this mean for email? If one opens it, one must deal with it then delete it. Answer the question, put the appointment on the calendar, forward it to the person who actually knows the answer; delete it. Period, no excuses. No, we will not need to see it again. No, we do not need to keep it for reference or - heaven help me - for ammunition. Every time we open it and then close it without acting on it, we have just wasted 100% of our time. Every time we glance at the subject line in the in box only to remember that we already dealt with it, we have just wasted 100% of our time. And every time we open it, deal with it, but leave it in the in box, we have just effectively used 90% of our time but wasted how much? There will be a test later.
Consular officers are some of the best time managers on earth, so are quite capable of controlling the in box. Sorting can help: using the 'email rules' under the 'tools' menu, one can identify incoming messages and either send them to subject-specific personal folders to answer in batches, or forward them to the person they should have gone to in the first place without one's ever seeing them. Presto, 100% of time saved on each and every item.
Tempted to just peek at the item that dropped into the in box and it will only take a second? Sorry, no peeking. In fact, Madam assures us that there is no federal law against cranking up Outlook only once or twice a day. Blasphemy? Perhaps. But true nonetheless.
And we must never, never, never, never, never fall for the temptation to pop into someone's cube and ask, "Did you get my email?" Madam assures you that by all the powers of the mighty US federal government, yes she got it. She was, however, busy doing more important things and so didn't open it yet. Good for her.
.......
To what does the title of this entry refer? Long ago Madam worked with a charming and pragmatic gentleman who taught her one of her all-time favorite sayings; one which she uses often:
"The first 90% of the project takes the first 90% of the time.
The last 10% of the project takes the other 90% of the time."
Thank you and rest in peace, Hal.
First, of course, is that annoying window in the lower righthand corner of the NIV page with the Watchlist Promotes and Watchlist Alerts. Madam has enormous sympathy for conoffs who threw up their hands after the umpteenth try to close out these items following Knowledegebase Selfhelp instructions that just seemed to encourage them to breed, and ignored them from then on. Madam was one of the conoffs who did just that. However there is a newer - updated 7/8/09 - instruction page on how to kill these, and she would love to know if this one actually works. It's here * under the title, "Remove WLIST PROMOTE and WATCHLIST Alerts From the System Messages Window."* Anyone?
Second, of course, is the email in box.
She will now remove her fingers from her ears, ignore the final, lingering groans, and remind us all of the first, primary, most basic, most important rule of time management: Handle each item only once.
What does this mean for email? If one opens it, one must deal with it then delete it. Answer the question, put the appointment on the calendar, forward it to the person who actually knows the answer; delete it. Period, no excuses. No, we will not need to see it again. No, we do not need to keep it for reference or - heaven help me - for ammunition. Every time we open it and then close it without acting on it, we have just wasted 100% of our time. Every time we glance at the subject line in the in box only to remember that we already dealt with it, we have just wasted 100% of our time. And every time we open it, deal with it, but leave it in the in box, we have just effectively used 90% of our time but wasted how much? There will be a test later.
Consular officers are some of the best time managers on earth, so are quite capable of controlling the in box. Sorting can help: using the 'email rules' under the 'tools' menu, one can identify incoming messages and either send them to subject-specific personal folders to answer in batches, or forward them to the person they should have gone to in the first place without one's ever seeing them. Presto, 100% of time saved on each and every item.
Tempted to just peek at the item that dropped into the in box and it will only take a second? Sorry, no peeking. In fact, Madam assures us that there is no federal law against cranking up Outlook only once or twice a day. Blasphemy? Perhaps. But true nonetheless.
And we must never, never, never, never, never fall for the temptation to pop into someone's cube and ask, "Did you get my email?" Madam assures you that by all the powers of the mighty US federal government, yes she got it. She was, however, busy doing more important things and so didn't open it yet. Good for her.
.......
To what does the title of this entry refer? Long ago Madam worked with a charming and pragmatic gentleman who taught her one of her all-time favorite sayings; one which she uses often:
"The first 90% of the project takes the first 90% of the time.
The last 10% of the project takes the other 90% of the time."
Thank you and rest in peace, Hal.
Labels:
time management
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
The Power of Numbers
The best response to a local complaint that we 'never' issue visas is not indignant denial, but numbers. Not the numbers refused, of course, but the numbers issued.
Madam found success in silencing world-class griping some years ago, by simply posting the monthly issuance figures on the public notice board outside the consular entrance. It was a quiet little three-column chart with visa categories, a brief explanation of the type of visa that was, and the quantity issued the previous months. Sort of like "B1/B2 - Tourism and business - 579".
For all its modesty, the chart worked amazingly well. Members of the public were stunned to see such numbers where they had been led to think they'd see only zeroes. And yes, they believed them.
Madam strongly recommends this for places where such complaints are often heard. The press officer in PD might especially welcome such data, especially if it is readily available at his or her fingertips (say, in a regular month-end email) in case of an unanticipated query at a press-attended event.
Even local government officials can be delightfully nonplussed and even sometimes plainly silenced by a casual recitation of hard numbers.
(Madam is here reminded of that wonderful paragraph in Martin Cruz Smith's "Rose" in which the main character observes, "Charlotte's response to some riposte from Earnshaw was a basilisk stare that would have plunged a normal man into silence, but the Member of Parliament maintained a confident air of satisfaction. Which was why politicians were assassinated, Blair thought, because nothing else would faze them.")
So faze them with the non-fatal weaponry of numbers. Give them more numbers than they can imagine we have. Not refusals, of course, but issuances for NIVs and IVs of all kinds, and - if there are any at all - the number of NIV and IV cases involving false documents and fraud.
If the fraud unit has time, the numbers of forged and counterfeit types of items would be lovely to have as well: X many forged birth certificates; Y many false marriage certificates, and on and on. There is little that will alter the course of conversation faster for a formerly-self-satisfied local reporter or official from, "Why don't you [racist Luddite thugs] give our people visas?" to "There certainly has been a lot of rain this summer, don't you think?"
Need more or broader ammunition - ahem, sorry - cool, irrefutable facts? A wonderful source for worldwide numbers is the Office of Immigration Statistics found here. Enjoy.
Madam found success in silencing world-class griping some years ago, by simply posting the monthly issuance figures on the public notice board outside the consular entrance. It was a quiet little three-column chart with visa categories, a brief explanation of the type of visa that was, and the quantity issued the previous months. Sort of like "B1/B2 - Tourism and business - 579".
For all its modesty, the chart worked amazingly well. Members of the public were stunned to see such numbers where they had been led to think they'd see only zeroes. And yes, they believed them.
Madam strongly recommends this for places where such complaints are often heard. The press officer in PD might especially welcome such data, especially if it is readily available at his or her fingertips (say, in a regular month-end email) in case of an unanticipated query at a press-attended event.
Even local government officials can be delightfully nonplussed and even sometimes plainly silenced by a casual recitation of hard numbers.
(Madam is here reminded of that wonderful paragraph in Martin Cruz Smith's "Rose" in which the main character observes, "Charlotte's response to some riposte from Earnshaw was a basilisk stare that would have plunged a normal man into silence, but the Member of Parliament maintained a confident air of satisfaction. Which was why politicians were assassinated, Blair thought, because nothing else would faze them.")
So faze them with the non-fatal weaponry of numbers. Give them more numbers than they can imagine we have. Not refusals, of course, but issuances for NIVs and IVs of all kinds, and - if there are any at all - the number of NIV and IV cases involving false documents and fraud.
If the fraud unit has time, the numbers of forged and counterfeit types of items would be lovely to have as well: X many forged birth certificates; Y many false marriage certificates, and on and on. There is little that will alter the course of conversation faster for a formerly-self-satisfied local reporter or official from, "Why don't you [racist Luddite thugs] give our people visas?" to "There certainly has been a lot of rain this summer, don't you think?"
Need more or broader ammunition - ahem, sorry - cool, irrefutable facts? A wonderful source for worldwide numbers is the Office of Immigration Statistics found here. Enjoy.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Acting Stupidly
Madam was irresponsibly amused to read about the flap involving the recent arrest of Harvard Professor Henry Louis Gates Jr.
For those of us living under a media-absorbing sponge (a state of which Madam herself is frequently guilty), Professor Gates, returning home after dark from a trip, had some difficulty getting into his own house. A neighbor, not recognizing him and suspecting a breakin, called 911. Police arrived. Professor Gates provided proof that it was his own house, but in such a way that he was briefly arrested for disorderly conduct.
(Lest anyone doubt that a college professor could un-dignify himself enough to behave so badly as to possibly need arresting, albeit only briefly, let Madam remind you that this is Henry Gates we're talking about, and Harvard we're talking about. Had it been Duke, of course, there would already be a three-credit course on the fall schedule about it - taught, one can only hope, by the inestimable Stanley Fish whose piece in the New York Times on Friday pretty much covered the grounds expected - the university having figured out, quite late in Gates' tenure there, that there was no actual law against a professor being brilliant, immodest and annoying, even though black.)
Certain consular officers of Madam's acquaintance have generated jokes referencing Professor Gates' regrettable situation. These are not, she hastens to specify, in any way racist nor even professor-ist. They are ACS-ist. Although she will not dignify them with repetition here - you will have to ask around as she did - Madam sadly must agree that if Americans outside the US should be arrested for behaving irregularly, there are places and times where there would be precious few of them NOT in jail.
Happily, in most countries, Americans' coming to the attention of police is frequently forgiven, lucky for duty officers, since everyone already knows that those silly foreigners don't know how to behave. As for coming to the attention of police because they appear to be in the wrong place doing something they shouldn't be doing, Madam can only leave it to your own overactive and inexplicably fond memories to fill in how often and how creatively Americans do not fail to disappoint us in this regard.
Did the police suspect Professor Gates just because he is black? Did they get inappropriately wound up and hassle him just because he was being a mouthy PITA? Was Mike Barnicle correct to observe that the next time Gates needs 911, he might want to call the Harvard faculty lounge since the Cambridge police are known to have caller ID? Once certainly hopes not. A Freedom Rider in her extreme youth, Madam would like to see even less of this in the US than there has been in the past.
Every consular officer, however, has more than a passing acquaintance with both unfairness and ambivalence, and can handle them with aplomb. We just visit our Amcits; we don't take sides. We are polite to the thuggish policemen who arrested them for the crime of walking around smiling in a country not their own. We are kind to the Americans who have behaved in ways they'd never dream of if they were in the US. And we don't even sigh ruefully about them - in their hearing.
Should everyone just calm down and have a nice cup of Lady Grey? Without a doubt. The President has already backed up, reconsidered, and done so. Professor Gates has done so. The policeman has done so. Even Maureen Dowd thinks it's a good idea.
..........................................
Here, Madam believes, and in every third or fourth total foul-up any Amcit has managed to get himself into overseas, we are reminded of the logical fallacy of Special Pleading: Because I am [foreign, local, Christian, Muslim, male, female, tall, short, old, young, black, white, retired, working, smart, dumb, a professor, a cop], this normal rule of local law, common courtesy and common sense should not apply to me.
.................
Addendum: Madam has heard from a number of readers - as she knew she would with this post - and thanks them. In particular, though, she feels compelled to say to the one who complained about the light tone and a perceived assumption in favor of the polices' actions when, under different circumstances, they might instead have been at fault: the rules of consular balance are not suspended because something else MIGHT or COULD have happened. This case is what it is; like all ACS cases, it is ONLY what it is. It can not and should not be made to carry the weight of the history of racism in the US.
An officer who has personally experienced terrible things in the past - or who has friends or relatives who experienced them, or has read about others who experienced them - must not be influenced by those experiences to make presumptions or to lean one way or another because of them. What good to an offended American is, for example, a consular officer who is either debilitated or infuriated by personal baggage? Yet Madam has seen this happen, to the detriment of the American citizen whom we are there to assist, not to either favor or condemn.
For those of us living under a media-absorbing sponge (a state of which Madam herself is frequently guilty), Professor Gates, returning home after dark from a trip, had some difficulty getting into his own house. A neighbor, not recognizing him and suspecting a breakin, called 911. Police arrived. Professor Gates provided proof that it was his own house, but in such a way that he was briefly arrested for disorderly conduct.
(Lest anyone doubt that a college professor could un-dignify himself enough to behave so badly as to possibly need arresting, albeit only briefly, let Madam remind you that this is Henry Gates we're talking about, and Harvard we're talking about. Had it been Duke, of course, there would already be a three-credit course on the fall schedule about it - taught, one can only hope, by the inestimable Stanley Fish whose piece in the New York Times on Friday pretty much covered the grounds expected - the university having figured out, quite late in Gates' tenure there, that there was no actual law against a professor being brilliant, immodest and annoying, even though black.)
Certain consular officers of Madam's acquaintance have generated jokes referencing Professor Gates' regrettable situation. These are not, she hastens to specify, in any way racist nor even professor-ist. They are ACS-ist. Although she will not dignify them with repetition here - you will have to ask around as she did - Madam sadly must agree that if Americans outside the US should be arrested for behaving irregularly, there are places and times where there would be precious few of them NOT in jail.
Happily, in most countries, Americans' coming to the attention of police is frequently forgiven, lucky for duty officers, since everyone already knows that those silly foreigners don't know how to behave. As for coming to the attention of police because they appear to be in the wrong place doing something they shouldn't be doing, Madam can only leave it to your own overactive and inexplicably fond memories to fill in how often and how creatively Americans do not fail to disappoint us in this regard.
Did the police suspect Professor Gates just because he is black? Did they get inappropriately wound up and hassle him just because he was being a mouthy PITA? Was Mike Barnicle correct to observe that the next time Gates needs 911, he might want to call the Harvard faculty lounge since the Cambridge police are known to have caller ID? Once certainly hopes not. A Freedom Rider in her extreme youth, Madam would like to see even less of this in the US than there has been in the past.
Every consular officer, however, has more than a passing acquaintance with both unfairness and ambivalence, and can handle them with aplomb. We just visit our Amcits; we don't take sides. We are polite to the thuggish policemen who arrested them for the crime of walking around smiling in a country not their own. We are kind to the Americans who have behaved in ways they'd never dream of if they were in the US. And we don't even sigh ruefully about them - in their hearing.
Should everyone just calm down and have a nice cup of Lady Grey? Without a doubt. The President has already backed up, reconsidered, and done so. Professor Gates has done so. The policeman has done so. Even Maureen Dowd thinks it's a good idea.
..........................................
Here, Madam believes, and in every third or fourth total foul-up any Amcit has managed to get himself into overseas, we are reminded of the logical fallacy of Special Pleading: Because I am [foreign, local, Christian, Muslim, male, female, tall, short, old, young, black, white, retired, working, smart, dumb, a professor, a cop], this normal rule of local law, common courtesy and common sense should not apply to me.
.................
Addendum: Madam has heard from a number of readers - as she knew she would with this post - and thanks them. In particular, though, she feels compelled to say to the one who complained about the light tone and a perceived assumption in favor of the polices' actions when, under different circumstances, they might instead have been at fault: the rules of consular balance are not suspended because something else MIGHT or COULD have happened. This case is what it is; like all ACS cases, it is ONLY what it is. It can not and should not be made to carry the weight of the history of racism in the US.
An officer who has personally experienced terrible things in the past - or who has friends or relatives who experienced them, or has read about others who experienced them - must not be influenced by those experiences to make presumptions or to lean one way or another because of them. What good to an offended American is, for example, a consular officer who is either debilitated or infuriated by personal baggage? Yet Madam has seen this happen, to the detriment of the American citizen whom we are there to assist, not to either favor or condemn.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Great Conoffs Do It Better
In a recent AP story we learned that,
"The descendants of an African chief who was hanged and decapitated by a Dutch general 171 years ago reluctantly accepted the return of his severed head Thursday, still angry even as the Dutch tried to right a historic wrong.
"The head of King Badu Bonsu II was discovered last year in a jar of formaldehyde gathering dust in the anatomical collection of the Leiden University Medical Center. The Dutch government, embarrassed by its discovery, agreed to Ghanaian demands that the relic be returned.
"On Thursday, members of the king's Ahanta tribe, dressed in dark robes and wearing red sashes, took part in the hand-over ceremony, honoring his spirit by toasting with Dutch gin and then sprinkling the drink over the floor at the Dutch Foreign Ministry.
"But descendants of the chief said they were not consoled.
"Tribal elders said after the hand-over that they were...angry because they had been sent by their current chief only to identify the head, not retrieve it. Taking it back without first reporting to the chief would be a breach of protocol, they said.
"'We, the Ahanta, are not happy at all,' said Nana Etsin Kofi II."
Some folks might say, "They got the icky thing back; what are they griping about?" But a great consular officer would immediately notice the statement that the surrender of the head had not followed correct protocol, and would wince in pained understanding. Any consular officer worth his post allowance, upon discovering this sad artifact, would have rushed out to locate a Ghanian scholar and ask, "What should we do and how should we do it?" And then would have moved heaven and earth to do exactly that.
John Ratigan once danced with a pig's head to make the then-prototype MRV system work better; another officer used the best embassy vehicle to deliver a beautiful red rooster to a Batak shaman who had helped find a lost American: a great consular officer will do anything that is the right thing to do. There is nothing beneath his dignity or her understanding.
Conoffs know that appearances matter. The appearance of wrongdoing is nearly as serious as actual wrongdoing, and that is only the beginning. They see every day, even more than PD does, cultural ham-fistedness that has real consequences for customers' dignity, US prestige, and the need to get to the truth: inappropriate greetings, too-casual terms of address, incorrect eye contact, too-aggressive use of language, and pat-downs by well-meaning guards.
At the same time, through language skill and cultural wisdom, there is no one better at finding out what she needs to know than a consular officer:
Where are you going? Why will you go there? What will you do? How will you do it?
What is this? How does it work? What does it do?
Why did you come here? What did you think would happen? What happened instead?
Tell me about that.
Explain it to me.
Tell me what I can do to help you make this right.
"The descendants of an African chief who was hanged and decapitated by a Dutch general 171 years ago reluctantly accepted the return of his severed head Thursday, still angry even as the Dutch tried to right a historic wrong.
"The head of King Badu Bonsu II was discovered last year in a jar of formaldehyde gathering dust in the anatomical collection of the Leiden University Medical Center. The Dutch government, embarrassed by its discovery, agreed to Ghanaian demands that the relic be returned.
"On Thursday, members of the king's Ahanta tribe, dressed in dark robes and wearing red sashes, took part in the hand-over ceremony, honoring his spirit by toasting with Dutch gin and then sprinkling the drink over the floor at the Dutch Foreign Ministry.
"But descendants of the chief said they were not consoled.
"Tribal elders said after the hand-over that they were...angry because they had been sent by their current chief only to identify the head, not retrieve it. Taking it back without first reporting to the chief would be a breach of protocol, they said.
"'We, the Ahanta, are not happy at all,' said Nana Etsin Kofi II."
Some folks might say, "They got the icky thing back; what are they griping about?" But a great consular officer would immediately notice the statement that the surrender of the head had not followed correct protocol, and would wince in pained understanding. Any consular officer worth his post allowance, upon discovering this sad artifact, would have rushed out to locate a Ghanian scholar and ask, "What should we do and how should we do it?" And then would have moved heaven and earth to do exactly that.
John Ratigan once danced with a pig's head to make the then-prototype MRV system work better; another officer used the best embassy vehicle to deliver a beautiful red rooster to a Batak shaman who had helped find a lost American: a great consular officer will do anything that is the right thing to do. There is nothing beneath his dignity or her understanding.
Conoffs know that appearances matter. The appearance of wrongdoing is nearly as serious as actual wrongdoing, and that is only the beginning. They see every day, even more than PD does, cultural ham-fistedness that has real consequences for customers' dignity, US prestige, and the need to get to the truth: inappropriate greetings, too-casual terms of address, incorrect eye contact, too-aggressive use of language, and pat-downs by well-meaning guards.
At the same time, through language skill and cultural wisdom, there is no one better at finding out what she needs to know than a consular officer:
Where are you going? Why will you go there? What will you do? How will you do it?
What is this? How does it work? What does it do?
Why did you come here? What did you think would happen? What happened instead?
Tell me about that.
Explain it to me.
Tell me what I can do to help you make this right.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
A Nation of Immigrants
The NIV applicant gathers his papers, then offers one final glare at the conoff who has consigned him to 214(b) limbo and declares, "I wouldn't want to stay in your racist country anyway, where all [fill in a color here]-skinned people are second-class citizens."
Entertainingly enough, the election of a []-skinned person to the US presidency has not (Madam has this on the most reliable authority) served to quell this worldwide grumble. It's almost as if there has been no time at all between the firehose-and-police-dog newsreels of our shameful 1950's and today.
But there has been, of course. In fact, nearly all current conoffs were born after George Wallace's famous declaration, "In the name of the greatest people that have ever trod this earth, I draw the line in the dust and toss the gauntlet before the feet of tyranny, and I say segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever" (an inaugural address written for him - it was believed until recently - by a Cherokee Klan member).
Madam knows very, very well that most of her colleagues are among the least racist on earth. Some, such as Madam herself, have relatives who complain that immigration is somehow "changing the face of America," rant that they shouldn't have to press one for English, gripe that they can't understand the McDonald's workers any more, fret that the new immigrants only come for the money, and dislike the Fourteenth Amendment. Well, that's better than the things that some other folks' relatives embarrass them with, Madam believes.
Despite their only hazy memories of George Wallace, Madam's colleagues, with their wide-ranging educations and life experiences even before taking up this line of work, are quite aware of the times in US history when the Norwegians, the Irish, the Greeks, the Poles, the Jews, the Koreans and others immigrated in large numbers, moving into tight little neighborhoods where only their native languages were spoken and appeared on signs and only familiar products were in the shops. They are quite aware of times when those immigrants were only young male workmen who had no intention of creating families here, and times when those immigrants were only students and businesspeople who had no intention of exposing their unspoiled spouses and children to the US in all of its creeping liberal humanitarianism. And those people's longer-resident neighbors murmur that America would never be the same.
But of course, it remains the same. Every morning when she nods a greeting to the photograph of her great-grandfather who spoke broken English until the day he died, and then corrects NPR's Steve Chiotakis's pronunciation of his own last name, Madam is keenly aware of how America changes its immigrants rather than the other way around. And she observes 'press one for English' exactly as she once observed the first tentative inclusions of black Americans in TV commercials, and the forced retirement of the Frito Bandito. Maybe America is just growing up.
...........................
And then there's the other disgruntled 214(b) who huffs that, after all, America is unique; it's a nation of immigrants. Well, so is every other country on earth with the possible exception of Ethiopia. But that's another story.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Bringing Out The Dead
Madam never gets over being shocked by learning, yet again, that an embassy duty officer has made a death call. She has heard of duty officers identifying dead Americans - some of them not the freshest - and making first-time prison visits, as well.
What are consular officers thinking of? How about updating the duty book immediately so that this never happens again?
The ideal consular portion of the duty book should contain no more than a single page on each of maybe six different subjects; each page consisting of ticks and bullets and lots of white space. Oh, and also the doctors and lawyers lists at the end. Seoul once had the best consular duty pages on earth, but Madam does not know if that is still true today.
(BTW, Madam normally will not sit through a Nicholas Cage movie. They grate on her even more than accordion music does. But she thought that this title was excellent.)
Unfortunately, seeking good guidance on preparing and updating the consular portion of the book leads one through the usual round-robin of ancient cables and marginal FAM citations, each one promising further concrete information somewhere else. The most popular are 2 FAM 115, 2 FAM 113.8-4(B) and 7 FAM 117, which promises that "Guidance on how to organize the consular component of a duty book is now available on CA/OCS's Intranet home page."
Well, no it's not, but thanks for the offer. At the very bottom of that page is a link to CA/OCS duty, which is no help at all.
However, Madam did the usual necessary clicking, copying, pasting, re-clicking, skimming and cursing and found what is probably - and sadly - the most useful reference, which is 7 FAH-1 Exhibit-h-291.2 Post Duty Officer Guide. Even that, however, is packed with misinformation, danger and wasted neutrons.
Example: the very first section, called, "General Information on Duty" includes, "What the Duty Officer can and cannot do outside of normal working hours, when to take action, when to postpone action to the next working day, and when to call a consular officer; talking points for explaining to applicants actions that cannot be done outside of working hours (visas, notarials, passports, etc.)"
Madam promises you that no duty officer on earth will ever read this. The duty officer, bless his heart, will stand in his foyer with the cell phone on his shoulder, thumbing frantically through pages of philosophy to find the one direct, clear, simple, understandable, black and white solution to the immediate problem that is on the telephone right now. And will he find it?
One of the more egregious examples a bit farther down in the "Guide" has to do with child custody. This section actually is expected to help the duty officer understand and pass on to the anxious caller, "Limits on consular action and assistance. Suggestions of actions which could appropriately be taken" and "Privacy Act Implications."
Madam is sorry for her inattention; where did she miss the part where the duty officer says kindly but firmly, "I understand how difficult this is and how upset you are. Please give me all the information you can right now, and I will pass it on to our consular officer who will contact you first thing Monday morning (or tomorrow morning; or within 12 hours)."
In most places, arrested people are safely in jail, dead people are safely on ice, disputed children are safely asleep, emergency visas and passports can't be issued, and there is virtually never any need (there are always exceptions) for such incidents to require action on a duty officer's part beyond - at most - calling the conoff in the morning.
Every conoff remembers the first time he dialed the phone, with fingers that trembled only slightly, and had to say, "I'm calling from the US embassy in Xanadu." Pause to let that sink in. "I have some bad news about your son."
We cannot and must not push that call off on some luckless econ, political, security, or IT officer. We must not make the duty book so complex, so packed with irrelevancies and philosophy, that the duty officer can't find the instructions and makes the call out of well-meaning ignorance. If we were on the receiving end of such a call, we would want to hear it from the professional.
What are consular officers thinking of? How about updating the duty book immediately so that this never happens again?
The ideal consular portion of the duty book should contain no more than a single page on each of maybe six different subjects; each page consisting of ticks and bullets and lots of white space. Oh, and also the doctors and lawyers lists at the end. Seoul once had the best consular duty pages on earth, but Madam does not know if that is still true today.
(BTW, Madam normally will not sit through a Nicholas Cage movie. They grate on her even more than accordion music does. But she thought that this title was excellent.)
Unfortunately, seeking good guidance on preparing and updating the consular portion of the book leads one through the usual round-robin of ancient cables and marginal FAM citations, each one promising further concrete information somewhere else. The most popular are 2 FAM 115, 2 FAM 113.8-4(B) and 7 FAM 117, which promises that "Guidance on how to organize the consular component of a duty book is now available on CA/OCS's Intranet home page."
Well, no it's not, but thanks for the offer. At the very bottom of that page is a link to CA/OCS duty, which is no help at all.
However, Madam did the usual necessary clicking, copying, pasting, re-clicking, skimming and cursing and found what is probably - and sadly - the most useful reference, which is 7 FAH-1 Exhibit-h-291.2 Post Duty Officer Guide. Even that, however, is packed with misinformation, danger and wasted neutrons.
Example: the very first section, called, "General Information on Duty" includes, "What the Duty Officer can and cannot do outside of normal working hours, when to take action, when to postpone action to the next working day, and when to call a consular officer; talking points for explaining to applicants actions that cannot be done outside of working hours (visas, notarials, passports, etc.)"
Madam promises you that no duty officer on earth will ever read this. The duty officer, bless his heart, will stand in his foyer with the cell phone on his shoulder, thumbing frantically through pages of philosophy to find the one direct, clear, simple, understandable, black and white solution to the immediate problem that is on the telephone right now. And will he find it?
One of the more egregious examples a bit farther down in the "Guide" has to do with child custody. This section actually is expected to help the duty officer understand and pass on to the anxious caller, "Limits on consular action and assistance. Suggestions of actions which could appropriately be taken" and "Privacy Act Implications."
Madam is sorry for her inattention; where did she miss the part where the duty officer says kindly but firmly, "I understand how difficult this is and how upset you are. Please give me all the information you can right now, and I will pass it on to our consular officer who will contact you first thing Monday morning (or tomorrow morning; or within 12 hours)."
In most places, arrested people are safely in jail, dead people are safely on ice, disputed children are safely asleep, emergency visas and passports can't be issued, and there is virtually never any need (there are always exceptions) for such incidents to require action on a duty officer's part beyond - at most - calling the conoff in the morning.
Every conoff remembers the first time he dialed the phone, with fingers that trembled only slightly, and had to say, "I'm calling from the US embassy in Xanadu." Pause to let that sink in. "I have some bad news about your son."
We cannot and must not push that call off on some luckless econ, political, security, or IT officer. We must not make the duty book so complex, so packed with irrelevancies and philosophy, that the duty officer can't find the instructions and makes the call out of well-meaning ignorance. If we were on the receiving end of such a call, we would want to hear it from the professional.
Labels:
ACS,
duty,
emergencies
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Every Time Is The First Time
In an otherwise forgettable novel, a woman sat weeping in a PI's office. After pouring out her tale of betrayal and heartbreak, she sniffled, "You've probably heard this story a thousand times before."
The PI replied gently, "Not from you."
It was an extremely clever fictional tool, revealing much of a man's character in those few simple words. Because what could be more revelatory than a gracious, sensitive and perceptive response to a trite, predictable and tiresomely common stupidity?
So many visa applicants, bless ‘em, come to conoffs with one of a dozen trite, predictable and common lies. The lies are culturally specific: the dozen Thai lies are not the dozen Nigerian lies, nor the dozen Russian lies, nor the dozen Irish lies. But they are quickly recognizable. They soon become familiar, then predictable, then exasperating. The temptation to sigh with elaborate patience when the lie begins is hard to resist. There stands the applicant, proudly reciting the tale he thought up all by himself, not realizing that the conoff has already heard it twice today, eight times this week, and a hundred times this year.
And there is the conoff, sorely tempted to show off his recognition of the lie with impatient faces, even mocking eye-rolls. But he does not sigh, does not make faces, does not roll his eyes. He listens sincerely and quietly, asks further questions if he thinks them necessary, then delivers the decision with gracious, sensitive, and perceptive patience.
The conoff understands that lies are not personal. He understands that this person is a whole human being with a complex life, and with problems unknowable. He understands that short, cruel, mocking responses to the dozen lies gain both the conoff and the USG nothing, and can damage both the USG's reputation and, eventually, the conoff's own character. Madam has known this good conoff in dozens of posts in dozens of countries over dozens of years, and admires him every time she meets him anew.
To that conoff and all those like him, Bravo.
The PI replied gently, "Not from you."
It was an extremely clever fictional tool, revealing much of a man's character in those few simple words. Because what could be more revelatory than a gracious, sensitive and perceptive response to a trite, predictable and tiresomely common stupidity?
So many visa applicants, bless ‘em, come to conoffs with one of a dozen trite, predictable and common lies. The lies are culturally specific: the dozen Thai lies are not the dozen Nigerian lies, nor the dozen Russian lies, nor the dozen Irish lies. But they are quickly recognizable. They soon become familiar, then predictable, then exasperating. The temptation to sigh with elaborate patience when the lie begins is hard to resist. There stands the applicant, proudly reciting the tale he thought up all by himself, not realizing that the conoff has already heard it twice today, eight times this week, and a hundred times this year.
And there is the conoff, sorely tempted to show off his recognition of the lie with impatient faces, even mocking eye-rolls. But he does not sigh, does not make faces, does not roll his eyes. He listens sincerely and quietly, asks further questions if he thinks them necessary, then delivers the decision with gracious, sensitive, and perceptive patience.
The conoff understands that lies are not personal. He understands that this person is a whole human being with a complex life, and with problems unknowable. He understands that short, cruel, mocking responses to the dozen lies gain both the conoff and the USG nothing, and can damage both the USG's reputation and, eventually, the conoff's own character. Madam has known this good conoff in dozens of posts in dozens of countries over dozens of years, and admires him every time she meets him anew.
To that conoff and all those like him, Bravo.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Don’t Say a Word
STATE 068314 has joined the consular canon, clarifying and strengthening the old, rambling Appendix K, and making it even more pointedly pointedly clear that conoffs –many of whose working lives are spent with visa applicants and applications – are not to be addressed on that subject beyond Visa School, and A and B referrals.
Madam is libertarian enough to prefer the fewest possible laws, coupled with swift, sure punishment for those who violate them. That would translate, in the visa world, to lots of useful communication and not a single breath of inappropriate influence.
That would translate, for example, in acknowledging the inarguable efficacy of a political colleague’s quick message in the coffee line, “Jackomo Griego is applying for a visa today. He dresses like a street urchin, speaks in monosyllables, rarely bathes, and he lives next door to me with his parents. His mother is a prominent doctor, his father is the parish president, and Jackomo is enrolled in the most prestigious law school in the country for this fall. He’s told my own children that he’s not looking forward to cleaning up, but he’ll do it when the time comes.”
Such a helpful message is now even more pointedly forbidden. At the same time, if the less-than-clairvoyant conoff should refuse the smelly, surly, uncommunicative Jackomo, half the host country government will stop taking the political section’s telephone calls. And it will be considered (never spoken aloud, but running as an extremely noisy silent undercurrent through the ever-widening breach between the consular section and everywhere else) the conoff’s fault.
In 1964, Justice Potter Stewart, trying to define "hard-core" pornography, finally had to simply say, "I know it when I see it." There is, the CA/VO, the same apparent inability or unwillingness to define the difference between essential information and improper pressure.
Madam must ask a question about this: Why?
Why can this difference not be defined? CA feels an admirable responsibility to protect conoffs – especially the more junior – from the nightmare of crazed, visa-demanding front offices, which we all know exist. Fine. Better than fine. But Madam can’t believe that more time, more care, and more complex, inclusive thought could not have devised a policy that could have served everyone’s needs equally, rather than issuing yet another a proclamation that can only intimidate, handicap, isolate and divide.
To write rules that presume that visas are issued in a vacuum and that those rules would create no genuine repercussions for embassies and for the USG at large all over the world, is tactless, simplistic and lazy. It is using the lowest common denominator because that is the easiest one to find. And it is wrong.
Babies. Bathwater. Sigh.
Madam is libertarian enough to prefer the fewest possible laws, coupled with swift, sure punishment for those who violate them. That would translate, in the visa world, to lots of useful communication and not a single breath of inappropriate influence.
That would translate, for example, in acknowledging the inarguable efficacy of a political colleague’s quick message in the coffee line, “Jackomo Griego is applying for a visa today. He dresses like a street urchin, speaks in monosyllables, rarely bathes, and he lives next door to me with his parents. His mother is a prominent doctor, his father is the parish president, and Jackomo is enrolled in the most prestigious law school in the country for this fall. He’s told my own children that he’s not looking forward to cleaning up, but he’ll do it when the time comes.”
Such a helpful message is now even more pointedly forbidden. At the same time, if the less-than-clairvoyant conoff should refuse the smelly, surly, uncommunicative Jackomo, half the host country government will stop taking the political section’s telephone calls. And it will be considered (never spoken aloud, but running as an extremely noisy silent undercurrent through the ever-widening breach between the consular section and everywhere else) the conoff’s fault.
In 1964, Justice Potter Stewart, trying to define "hard-core" pornography, finally had to simply say, "I know it when I see it." There is, the CA/VO, the same apparent inability or unwillingness to define the difference between essential information and improper pressure.
Madam must ask a question about this: Why?
Why can this difference not be defined? CA feels an admirable responsibility to protect conoffs – especially the more junior – from the nightmare of crazed, visa-demanding front offices, which we all know exist. Fine. Better than fine. But Madam can’t believe that more time, more care, and more complex, inclusive thought could not have devised a policy that could have served everyone’s needs equally, rather than issuing yet another a proclamation that can only intimidate, handicap, isolate and divide.
To write rules that presume that visas are issued in a vacuum and that those rules would create no genuine repercussions for embassies and for the USG at large all over the world, is tactless, simplistic and lazy. It is using the lowest common denominator because that is the easiest one to find. And it is wrong.
Babies. Bathwater. Sigh.
Labels:
appendix K,
referrals,
visas
Friday, July 17, 2009
A Confession
Why does Madam feel all apologetic over this? She loves the DV. And she has seen so many conoff eyes roll when she has said so, that she is beginning to develop a complex about it.
Oh, she has heard the complaints, primarily about fraud. Hello? There's no fraud in other IVs, where the specialist cook will never even enter the state where he is supposedly desperately needed? Where the marriage was contracted only for immigration benefits, the divorce is already in the cooker, and neither party will ever lay hands on the other? Where the CR-1 spouse lives with the sweet dumb guy in the single-wide trailer in North Dakota for two years and two weeks, then takes off for L.A. as soon as the ten-year green card is in her hand? Where young men marry their sisters, their mothers or their grandmothers and hope we don't notice? Where a family will sell its kind, beautiful daughter to a stranger who doesn't want her, so that the girl will eventually petition for her can't-hold-a-job brothers, and no one cares what will happen to her.
Madam loves the DV. She loved the tiny Cameroonian diesel mechanic with his enormous dignity and his scrubbed, patched, wide-eyed children. She loved the Albanian brand-new high school graduate who won on his first try and will be in Stanford or Columbia before his illiterate, brick-laying, car-jacking brothers notice he's gone. She loved the gentle, bemused, retired college professor who had always wanted to live in Carmel By The Sea, and now will do so.
The DV, Madam believes, is the way immigration is supposed to be: an opportunity for those who want it enough to work for it, to join a lottery for it, to reach for what they see as the brass ring.
Oh, she has heard the complaints, primarily about fraud. Hello? There's no fraud in other IVs, where the specialist cook will never even enter the state where he is supposedly desperately needed? Where the marriage was contracted only for immigration benefits, the divorce is already in the cooker, and neither party will ever lay hands on the other? Where the CR-1 spouse lives with the sweet dumb guy in the single-wide trailer in North Dakota for two years and two weeks, then takes off for L.A. as soon as the ten-year green card is in her hand? Where young men marry their sisters, their mothers or their grandmothers and hope we don't notice? Where a family will sell its kind, beautiful daughter to a stranger who doesn't want her, so that the girl will eventually petition for her can't-hold-a-job brothers, and no one cares what will happen to her.
Madam loves the DV. She loved the tiny Cameroonian diesel mechanic with his enormous dignity and his scrubbed, patched, wide-eyed children. She loved the Albanian brand-new high school graduate who won on his first try and will be in Stanford or Columbia before his illiterate, brick-laying, car-jacking brothers notice he's gone. She loved the gentle, bemused, retired college professor who had always wanted to live in Carmel By The Sea, and now will do so.
The DV, Madam believes, is the way immigration is supposed to be: an opportunity for those who want it enough to work for it, to join a lottery for it, to reach for what they see as the brass ring.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Do You Know Where Your Students Are?
Holy smokes, have you seen this?
Even a conoff as been-there-done-that as Madam blinks three or four times and sits very still for a moment. All those years of issuing J-1s to exchange students in known programs, and she never wondered where the children would stay; if they would be safe.
What is an officer's responsibility to the visa applicant? Does it go beyond the either/or of "Your visa is approved and will be ready on..." and "I'm very sorry, but you don't qualify for..." ?
Madam votes resoundingly Yes. We are, after all, not just yes/no adjudicators. We are also representatives of the best the US has to offer the world. And yes, we need to take some responsibility for the visas we issue, well beyond whether or not we could be arrested for getting it wrong. It isn't all about us. It's also about them.
And now Madam would like a mojito, please. Her own multi-decade lack of foresight has given her a headache.
Even a conoff as been-there-done-that as Madam blinks three or four times and sits very still for a moment. All those years of issuing J-1s to exchange students in known programs, and she never wondered where the children would stay; if they would be safe.
What is an officer's responsibility to the visa applicant? Does it go beyond the either/or of "Your visa is approved and will be ready on..." and "I'm very sorry, but you don't qualify for..." ?
Madam votes resoundingly Yes. We are, after all, not just yes/no adjudicators. We are also representatives of the best the US has to offer the world. And yes, we need to take some responsibility for the visas we issue, well beyond whether or not we could be arrested for getting it wrong. It isn't all about us. It's also about them.
And now Madam would like a mojito, please. Her own multi-decade lack of foresight has given her a headache.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Attorneys are Not the Enemy... No, Really
In fact, a consular officer should have no enemies at all, but that's a different issue.
As mentioned previously, some attorneys can and do often irritate the bejesus out of conoffs by blowing smoke that they seem to think we might mistake for incense. On the other hand, many conoffs are also guilty of presumptive behavior in cases where attorneys are involved that benefits no one, least of all themselves.
Is it automatically a bad case if the applicant employed an attorney?
No. Especially for petition-based NIVs and all IVs, if you've had the chance to examine the forms and their instructions cold, ignoring your own knowledge of the process, you might find them just a tad bit intimidating. Not to mention incomplete and out of date. A good (emphasize that word, please) immigration lawyer knows what to send in which order; where to send things despite the lack of correct information available on the form, the instructions, or the USCIS web site; how soon to expect a response; what the instructions - those that haven't been updated since the Truman Administration - really mean.
Is it tacky to ask how much the attorney charged?
Yes, it is tacky. Unless there is a specific need to know that might affect the adjudication of the case, don't ask it.
Did the attorney make a mistake? If so, is it the applicant's fault?
If it's not his fault, don't yell at him. In fact, if it IS his fault, don't yell at him either. (Never, never, never yell at anybody - does Madam le Consul really need to write this? Sadly, yes.)
Can you fix the case, or must something else be done?
If something else is needed, 221(g) the case with very specific, written request for what must be fixed or added.
Did the attorney commit malpractice?
If you have sufficient knowledge to be sure that he did, the entity to contact is the attorney’s state bar, not the poor luckless visa applicant.
And please play nice, even with attorneys. If you wouldn't say it with Ms. Hillary standing behind your shoulder listening carefully, don't say it at all. Even to an attorney.
As mentioned previously, some attorneys can and do often irritate the bejesus out of conoffs by blowing smoke that they seem to think we might mistake for incense. On the other hand, many conoffs are also guilty of presumptive behavior in cases where attorneys are involved that benefits no one, least of all themselves.
Is it automatically a bad case if the applicant employed an attorney?
No. Especially for petition-based NIVs and all IVs, if you've had the chance to examine the forms and their instructions cold, ignoring your own knowledge of the process, you might find them just a tad bit intimidating. Not to mention incomplete and out of date. A good (emphasize that word, please) immigration lawyer knows what to send in which order; where to send things despite the lack of correct information available on the form, the instructions, or the USCIS web site; how soon to expect a response; what the instructions - those that haven't been updated since the Truman Administration - really mean.
Is it tacky to ask how much the attorney charged?
Yes, it is tacky. Unless there is a specific need to know that might affect the adjudication of the case, don't ask it.
Did the attorney make a mistake? If so, is it the applicant's fault?
If it's not his fault, don't yell at him. In fact, if it IS his fault, don't yell at him either. (Never, never, never yell at anybody - does Madam le Consul really need to write this? Sadly, yes.)
Can you fix the case, or must something else be done?
If something else is needed, 221(g) the case with very specific, written request for what must be fixed or added.
Did the attorney commit malpractice?
If you have sufficient knowledge to be sure that he did, the entity to contact is the attorney’s state bar, not the poor luckless visa applicant.
And please play nice, even with attorneys. If you wouldn't say it with Ms. Hillary standing behind your shoulder listening carefully, don't say it at all. Even to an attorney.
Monday, July 13, 2009
The Fiance Blues
There are thousands of web pages that purport to help people obtain US visas, and this is just one example. When folks are willing to spend thousands of dollars to get to the US, part of that might well be spent on practice-answering the questions we might ask.
Come to think of it, this is a pretty good list, isn't it? Aren't we all guilty of asking such obvious questions? What can we do to assure that the questions we ask will be on point and the answers we get will be true and accurate?
Find questions based on the unique aspects of the case, and ask those. Not one from Column A and one from Column B; not boilerplate. Unique aspects of the case? Every case is different and unique. Quick, pick up the nearest pink folder, glance at the papers inside, and think of five questions that would never be on any lawyer's list of probable questions. Is there an age, education or religious difference? What do the families think of that? What is interesting about the village or city where the foreign fiance lives? What else could you ask that could never make it onto such a list?
The best part of asking unpredictable questions is how quickly the interview might be over: because the correct answer to any good interview question by a genuine applicant will not be "Um..." or "Well..." or a few fast blinks and "Excuse me?"
Come to think of it, this is a pretty good list, isn't it? Aren't we all guilty of asking such obvious questions? What can we do to assure that the questions we ask will be on point and the answers we get will be true and accurate?
Find questions based on the unique aspects of the case, and ask those. Not one from Column A and one from Column B; not boilerplate. Unique aspects of the case? Every case is different and unique. Quick, pick up the nearest pink folder, glance at the papers inside, and think of five questions that would never be on any lawyer's list of probable questions. Is there an age, education or religious difference? What do the families think of that? What is interesting about the village or city where the foreign fiance lives? What else could you ask that could never make it onto such a list?
The best part of asking unpredictable questions is how quickly the interview might be over: because the correct answer to any good interview question by a genuine applicant will not be "Um..." or "Well..." or a few fast blinks and "Excuse me?"
Friday, July 10, 2009
Management by Walking Around
Madam apologizes for the grumping yesterday. It was an unproductive day, very annoying. In a previous incarnation/life/career she worked with a man who had a sign on his desk that read, "When I works, I works hard. When I plays, I plays loose. When I sits, I falls asleep." Too much sitting yesterday.
Thinking about that reminds her that something that makes a good consular manager, and something that good consular managers excel at, is management by walking around: the One Minute Manager in motion. How many of us spend the whole day in motion, with a pen in one hand and pockets overflowing with telephone numbers, email messages, NIV applications that need special handling, half-finished adjudications tapping away in our heads, pausing to crawl under a desk and re-connect an FSN's keyboard, to grin over the shoulder of an ELO writing excellent interview notes, to nod approval at a patient dialogue between a lead FSN and an elderly customer, to steal a cookie from the never-ending consular treat supply? Now that is a work day.
On the other side, the most dysfunctional consular sections Madam sees are headed by officers who never come out of their offices.
She has often teased political and econ colleagues by describing her view of their typical work day: read three newspaper articles, write a cable about them, email it around for approval, change 'happy' to 'glad', fold it into a paper airplane, sail it into a dark elevator shaft. Do the same tomorrow.
No thanks. A good consular officer wants a product to produce, boxes of visas and passports trundling around, crabby FSNs with complicated lives and long stories, happy (or unhappy, or weeping, or raging) customers, miles to walk through the day to assure the factory keeps humming, and a hundred or two short conversations. And the certainty that for all the upstairs folks' occasional condescension, if we didn't do visas here no one would take their phone calls.
Thinking about that reminds her that something that makes a good consular manager, and something that good consular managers excel at, is management by walking around: the One Minute Manager in motion. How many of us spend the whole day in motion, with a pen in one hand and pockets overflowing with telephone numbers, email messages, NIV applications that need special handling, half-finished adjudications tapping away in our heads, pausing to crawl under a desk and re-connect an FSN's keyboard, to grin over the shoulder of an ELO writing excellent interview notes, to nod approval at a patient dialogue between a lead FSN and an elderly customer, to steal a cookie from the never-ending consular treat supply? Now that is a work day.
On the other side, the most dysfunctional consular sections Madam sees are headed by officers who never come out of their offices.
She has often teased political and econ colleagues by describing her view of their typical work day: read three newspaper articles, write a cable about them, email it around for approval, change 'happy' to 'glad', fold it into a paper airplane, sail it into a dark elevator shaft. Do the same tomorrow.
No thanks. A good consular officer wants a product to produce, boxes of visas and passports trundling around, crabby FSNs with complicated lives and long stories, happy (or unhappy, or weeping, or raging) customers, miles to walk through the day to assure the factory keeps humming, and a hundred or two short conversations. And the certainty that for all the upstairs folks' occasional condescension, if we didn't do visas here no one would take their phone calls.
Labels:
management,
supervision
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Ms. Nancy Redeems Herself ... Just a Little Bit
Madam tries to avoid politics; diplomacy is bemusing enough. But still she noticed with some tenuous satisfaction today's statement by Speaker Nancy Pelosi that a resolution praising Michael Jackson might open Jackson's life to "contrary views that are not necessary at this time."
Now here is diplo-speak for the masters. Good on you, Nancy. When the economy and society are floundering, and desperate for someone to blame besides our own greedy selves, it might indeed be more useful for our lawmakers to be pondering rather than pandering: displaying desperate and insincere rhetoric in gestures so see-through as to be pathetic.
Please correct Madam if she's wrong, but she is fairly certain that it was Ms. Pelosi who berated CA for attempting to collect payment from Beirut evacuees in 2006; people who had moved to and lived in a place we'd been warning them for years to stay away from. As it was the same Ms. Pelosi who had earlier voted against earmarking funds for Amcit emergency evacuations.
She will never be able to fawn herself back into Madam's personal good graces because of this. Wonder if that keeps her up at night.
If those are all three the same Ms. Pelosi, Madam can't help wondering where, when and how the next shoe in the Michael Jackson resolution issue will fall. There is a delightful-if-we-could-be-sure-it-weren't-true rumor that the state of California, which is paying its vendors and citizens in IOU's, is considering building a multi-million-dollar MJ memorial. Madam can't wait to see who votes how on that one. It's enough to make one eager to go back overseas. Ouagadougou is truly delightful at this time of year. Or any other.
Now here is diplo-speak for the masters. Good on you, Nancy. When the economy and society are floundering, and desperate for someone to blame besides our own greedy selves, it might indeed be more useful for our lawmakers to be pondering rather than pandering: displaying desperate and insincere rhetoric in gestures so see-through as to be pathetic.
Please correct Madam if she's wrong, but she is fairly certain that it was Ms. Pelosi who berated CA for attempting to collect payment from Beirut evacuees in 2006; people who had moved to and lived in a place we'd been warning them for years to stay away from. As it was the same Ms. Pelosi who had earlier voted against earmarking funds for Amcit emergency evacuations.
She will never be able to fawn herself back into Madam's personal good graces because of this. Wonder if that keeps her up at night.
If those are all three the same Ms. Pelosi, Madam can't help wondering where, when and how the next shoe in the Michael Jackson resolution issue will fall. There is a delightful-if-we-could-be-sure-it-weren't-true rumor that the state of California, which is paying its vendors and citizens in IOU's, is considering building a multi-million-dollar MJ memorial. Madam can't wait to see who votes how on that one. It's enough to make one eager to go back overseas. Ouagadougou is truly delightful at this time of year. Or any other.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
It Ain't Easy
Maura - as far as Madam knows - did not say ruefully and publicly, "You can't 214(b) an Amcit." But all the rest of us have said that at one time or another. They just keep on coming back:
The old guy living off Social Security who slowly circles the globe from post to post. You might start by receiving his benefits checks for him and, unless you're very careful, end up by washing his socks.
The quiet drunk who crawls through the local gutters seeking cigarette butts and the remaining few drops in broken soju bottles, and his last two friends and the cops can't believe we won't pick him up, brush him off, and send him home.
The Amcit incredulous that the local cops wouldn't let him make a phone call. But they did call you.
The expat who still claims that she is married to Bob Dylan.
The mangled body brought up out of the mortuary pit into an empty room by a thoughtful attendant for you to identify, but it still smells of freshly-butchered meat and the game new ELO turns white and hurries out to sit on the curb.
The sweet young man shackled and weeping in a gentle prosecutor's office, for whom you held the Kleenex while he blew his nose and whose cheek you couldn't help touching lovingly, he was so young, so foolish, so afraid.
The aged hippies who make chocolate cake and spaghetti bolognese in Kathmandu cafes, and whose parents send them a monthly allowance as long as they stay away.
The no-longer-young gay man whose luck ran out in a dark city park in a deeply homophobic country late one night, and there was no one to harbor his two decrepit poodles but you.
The woman and her five children whom a sincere and intense new officer rescued from the violently abusive husband and father and sent home to her parents, and who returned to him less than a month later.
If it's not the same one, it's another fairly like him or her. It was either Denis Johnson or Cormac McCarthy who wrote about someone having lived a life so full of catastrophic errors and hopelessness that it could make you feel that down, out and clueless as you were, you weren't doing all that badly. Those are our Amcits, bless 'em.
The old guy living off Social Security who slowly circles the globe from post to post. You might start by receiving his benefits checks for him and, unless you're very careful, end up by washing his socks.
The quiet drunk who crawls through the local gutters seeking cigarette butts and the remaining few drops in broken soju bottles, and his last two friends and the cops can't believe we won't pick him up, brush him off, and send him home.
The Amcit incredulous that the local cops wouldn't let him make a phone call. But they did call you.
The expat who still claims that she is married to Bob Dylan.
The mangled body brought up out of the mortuary pit into an empty room by a thoughtful attendant for you to identify, but it still smells of freshly-butchered meat and the game new ELO turns white and hurries out to sit on the curb.
The sweet young man shackled and weeping in a gentle prosecutor's office, for whom you held the Kleenex while he blew his nose and whose cheek you couldn't help touching lovingly, he was so young, so foolish, so afraid.
The aged hippies who make chocolate cake and spaghetti bolognese in Kathmandu cafes, and whose parents send them a monthly allowance as long as they stay away.
The no-longer-young gay man whose luck ran out in a dark city park in a deeply homophobic country late one night, and there was no one to harbor his two decrepit poodles but you.
The woman and her five children whom a sincere and intense new officer rescued from the violently abusive husband and father and sent home to her parents, and who returned to him less than a month later.
If it's not the same one, it's another fairly like him or her. It was either Denis Johnson or Cormac McCarthy who wrote about someone having lived a life so full of catastrophic errors and hopelessness that it could make you feel that down, out and clueless as you were, you weren't doing all that badly. Those are our Amcits, bless 'em.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
I Take It Back
It is possible to comment on ACS Plus Plus* using a private ID and email. Kudos, Andy!!
Thursday, July 2, 2009
What's the Worst That Can Happen?
As ACS officers, we know we can't simply write up a death certificate for someone who might be, could be, probably is, or most likely is dead. If local authorities are unable or unwilling to confirm a death, only exceptional circumstances allow a consular officer to issue a certificate of presumptive death with CA/OCS/ACS concurrence (see 7 FAM 270 and 280).
Let's place ourselves personally in those circumstances for a moment.
It might take years for authorites to produce death certificates for AF-447 victims whose bodies were not recovered. Yet life insurance cannot pay and wills cannot be probated until death is confirmed. Madam once dealt with a family that teetered on the brink of financial catastrophe due to the disappearance, during a local disaster, of the ex-husband and father. There was no body, but he, living, could not be found. It took every day of six months of painstaking investigation, research, and walking the streets talking to everyone to build up a sufficient body of circumstantial evidence to convince the local government that he must be dead. They issued a death certificate, so Madam could issue a death certificate and the family could finally put itself back together.
How would your family manage? If you vanished and there was no proof and no corpse, what then? Could your loved ones manage your affairs, close your home, pay your bills, sell your car, bail your pet out of the kennel, in those long, long months it might take to prove your death?
Even without death, don't forget that the Tehran hostages were held for 14 months. One of them, one, Bert Moore, even though he expected to stay only six weeks in Iran, had provided his wife with a general power of attorney that allowed her to run their complex household smoothly in his long absence. Every other family suffered multiple financial meltdowns that only exacerbated their personal stress.
When we notarize POAs for our customers, maybe we should be seriously thinking of writing up our own, as well.
Let's place ourselves personally in those circumstances for a moment.
It might take years for authorites to produce death certificates for AF-447 victims whose bodies were not recovered. Yet life insurance cannot pay and wills cannot be probated until death is confirmed. Madam once dealt with a family that teetered on the brink of financial catastrophe due to the disappearance, during a local disaster, of the ex-husband and father. There was no body, but he, living, could not be found. It took every day of six months of painstaking investigation, research, and walking the streets talking to everyone to build up a sufficient body of circumstantial evidence to convince the local government that he must be dead. They issued a death certificate, so Madam could issue a death certificate and the family could finally put itself back together.
How would your family manage? If you vanished and there was no proof and no corpse, what then? Could your loved ones manage your affairs, close your home, pay your bills, sell your car, bail your pet out of the kennel, in those long, long months it might take to prove your death?
Even without death, don't forget that the Tehran hostages were held for 14 months. One of them, one, Bert Moore, even though he expected to stay only six weeks in Iran, had provided his wife with a general power of attorney that allowed her to run their complex household smoothly in his long absence. Every other family suffered multiple financial meltdowns that only exacerbated their personal stress.
When we notarize POAs for our customers, maybe we should be seriously thinking of writing up our own, as well.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
The Good Die Young
The new ACS PLUS PLUS forum is extremely cool, full of great stuff for conoffs and no, you are not either too busy to take a look every few days. Madam wonders, though, how long it will last. How many similar CA-built fora have we seen that petered out and died young?
At least this one doesn't restrict access with logins and passwords and related nonsense as others have done, but if Andy Miller were to ask Madam's advice (which he didn't and doesn't have to but still...) she would suggest that he allow comments without names and emails. Madam is thinking that would create a lot more willing conversation and traffic, which would for sure encourage him and his supervisors to keep it going.
Take a look: http://acsplusplus.ca.state.gov/*
At least this one doesn't restrict access with logins and passwords and related nonsense as others have done, but if Andy Miller were to ask Madam's advice (which he didn't and doesn't have to but still...) she would suggest that he allow comments without names and emails. Madam is thinking that would create a lot more willing conversation and traffic, which would for sure encourage him and his supervisors to keep it going.
Take a look: http://acsplusplus.ca.state.gov/*
Real Supervision
It was said long ago - and still is true - that every professional's journey from the bottom of the ladder to the top is marked by one single step that is the most momentous of all. It is the one in which he or she first becomes a supervisor, and is suddenly responsible for the work of others. Yes, it's true: from the mail room to CEO, that is the biggest step.
There are many officers, especially ELOs in large consular sections, where their supervisory responsbilities are more show than fact; just something to pad the EER. Nevertheless, there is nothing wrong with pretending to be a 'real' supervisor, if for no other reason than to practice for the future. And Kurt Vonnegut said that we are what we pretend to be. With that in mind, here is the one and only best resource for any supervisor anytime, anywhere. It was first published by the Harvard Business Review in 1968 and was reprinted and added-to in 1987, and is as vitally true today as it was then. If you will read only one item on supervision through your entire career, this is the one.
Enjoy. And believe.
And thank you, Frederick Herzberg.
.
There are many officers, especially ELOs in large consular sections, where their supervisory responsbilities are more show than fact; just something to pad the EER. Nevertheless, there is nothing wrong with pretending to be a 'real' supervisor, if for no other reason than to practice for the future. And Kurt Vonnegut said that we are what we pretend to be. With that in mind, here is the one and only best resource for any supervisor anytime, anywhere. It was first published by the Harvard Business Review in 1968 and was reprinted and added-to in 1987, and is as vitally true today as it was then. If you will read only one item on supervision through your entire career, this is the one.
Enjoy. And believe.
And thank you, Frederick Herzberg.
.
Labels:
supervision
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