She forgave would-be killer

When the gang-banger was on trial for nearly killing her brother, Cynthia Santiago wrote a letter to the court asking for leniency.

“We are Christians. We believe in forgiveness,” said Santiago, 31, now an immigration lawyer based in El Segundo. “We prayed for him (the shooter). We prayed God transform his life. I’m not the person to pass that kind of judgment on another human being.”

Santiago said her brother got involved in a race-based altercation at 20th St. and Delaware in Santa Monica in the early 2000s, and he was shot with a 22-caliber gun from close range. One bullet shattered his jaw and another pierced his heart and lung, she said.

He was rushed to St. John’s where he lay unconscious for nearly three weeks. When he woke up, he asked about his kids. After months of physical therapy, he returned to normal life.

Santiago’s extraordinary plea for clemency is part of the troubled past of a Santa Monica once beset by gang violence. Part of the reason she chose law is because she saw her own parents, as working class residents, struggle to get sound legal advice for her troubled brother.

The Santa Monica High School graduate coursed Southwestern Law School and today operates an office in El Segundo. After embarking on a career as a defense lawyer, she saw the need to help immigrants who often ignore their resources and rights to stay in the United States, she said.

She’s kind of a Christmas lawyer – all year round. “I tend to be on the minimal fee schedule,” she said. “I tend to put in more work than is paid.”

One of her first cases was a woman who was within feet of the Mexican border when Santiago filed a stay based on her status as a victim that qualified her for permission to remain in the U.S., she said. The lady was brought back. Had she been dumped in Mexico, she may have never made it back.

Santiago, who with her brother and sister were born in the U.S. of immigrant parents, has plans to move to the Westside and ultimately wants to parlay her law practice into a non-profit.

Just like when she forgave her brother’s would-be killer, Santiago still lives by forgiveness, even incorporating it into her law practice. Her brother now cuts hair – and he brings his buddies to juvenile hall to cut for free, she said.

Santiago grows frustrated for the extreme cases where immigrants, who committed a minor crime 20 year prior, are denied resident status, despite turning their lives around, she said.

“Immigration laws don’t forgive,” she said. “I was raised in a Christian background. I believe people can transform their lives. There’s redemption. There’s forgiveness.”