In Conversation with Undocumented Students: Part II

Please tell me about your experience upon first entering the U.S.

Shocked. You look at the U.S. when you’re in your own country—the economy, the society—and you have this blind belief that everyone has a home, a car, a means to work—

Ah, the American Dream.

Yes, because the first place I entered was my aunt’s home, which was in a nice neighborhood. There was also an emotional toll. Everything I saw was different. And obviously, the language is different, too. So there was a barrier. I saw so many new things and I couldn’t describe what they were, what I was going through.

At what age did you first arrive in America?

Around 6 or 7. It was a 3 month journey, so by the time I actually arrived, I had just turned 7.

Could you go into more detail about what specifically you went through during those 3 months?

So, my story is not your classical immigrant story. Most people enter via airplane and overstay their Visa, but we [my mom, sister, cousins and I] actually crossed by land. One day, I woke up, and my mom said “Come on, let’s go”. I thought we were going to a mall or something, I had no idea that we were leaving the country. My mom sold off all of her belongings to lower the debt we were going to be in. The journey cost about $30,000—$10,000 for each head [my mom, my sister and me]. It was honestly always looking behind ourselves. At first, we always traveled via buses. When we were stopped at a border and the police came up, we would show them money. They knew we weren’t supposed to be there, and so we paid them. We would stop at a hotel for 2-3 days, never more, because we didn’t want to arouse suspicion. When we got to Guatemala, we flew on a plane to Mexico. I still don’t exactly know how we did that. My mom, sister, cousins and I were travelling with about 25 other people, so there were 30 of us in all. Getting to Mexico took about 1 month. The other two months of the journey were spent getting to the U.S. In Mexico, we mostly traveled by foot. We would spend about 2-3 days in safe-houses, which were situated all over the region. There were safe houses, but they didn’t really keep up safe. The coyotes had to pay for us, and even then, they didn’t give us too much. We constantly had to partition food. Eventually, we reached the Rio Grande, which we had to swim to get across. We had split into three groups, but since I was younger, I was held. If you fell, you couldn’t be found due to the strong current. We ended up losing someone to the river. Afterwards, we reached a highway where there was a safe car, and the coyotes yelled at us to run across, even though it was dark. Our mom was supposed to go with us, and when my cousins, sister and I reached the car, we thought she might not make it. We were so afraid, we didn’t know what to do. But she entered through the back. From there, we were taken close to the U.S. border. We kept on walking until we got to a place on the U.S. border that we could cross. The actual border was the easiest part to get over—it’s a pretty small fence. After we crossed the border, our cousins in the U.S. picked us up and we arrived at my aunt’s place.

How would you describe your transitioning to the U.S.?

My family and I were always scared of police officers—we thought they were border control. My aunt’s an American citizen, so she took us in. She also has a lot of contacts, so if I’m speaking honestly, we were rather comfortable once we arrived in the U.S. Eventually, my mom wanted us to become independent, though. We were poor, so leaving my aunt’s was tough. We ended up moving into a 1 bedroom apartment, and had one car. It was also difficult for my mom to find employment. I was supposed to go into 2nd grade, but they put me in 1st grade because of my poor English ability. In terms of community, I didn’t feel welcome at all.

You can speak English fluently now—how did you end up learning it? Was it through school?

I didn’t learn to speak through the ESL program. I actually learned how to speak English by being forced to speak it. My cousins spoke English with me; they knew Spanish, but they wanted me to learn English so it would be easier for me to adjust. I picked it up so quickly through this process, that I was eventually taken out of ESL. But I felt cheated,I felt like there was still so much I had to learn.

So they took you out of ESL because you could speak English, but perhaps you still struggled with higher-order concepts?

Yes, exactly. I feel as though ESL is aimed towards people who have absolutely no knowledge of English. So they took me out because I could speak, but I still didn’t know enough about how to express ideas.

It seems as though the ESL program was too elementary for you, but you weren’t yet able to form more advanced thoughts. There wasn’t a program in the middle for people who understand and can speak some English, but are still exploring the language.

Yes, there really wasn’t. I was just thrown into the classroom and expected to know everything because I was more advanced than ESL. It honestly wasn’t until 8th grade that I learned the difference between a noun, verb, adjective, etc.

Why did you and your family come to the U.S?

Well, my mom had been considering the move for a while because of the improved education system, and because of our family who live here. But it really wasn’t until my father was shot, that she ultimately made the decision. My dad was a man of considerable wealth, and he showed it off. Usually what happens to the father, happens to the children. So my mom decided that we should go to the U.S.

I’d like to move forward from your initial travels to your current experiences as an immigrant. I understand that you are a DACA student. How has DACA shaped your educational experience?

As an undocumented individual, you don’t really notice the impact DACA has until you either: 1) Join the workforce or 2) Go to college. I thought that I was the same as other students, in terms of a right to a higher education. My sister had graduated before DACA went into full effect, and so she wasn’t eligible for it at the time and therefore couldn’t attend college. But, thankfully, I was. With DACA, undocumented students are eligible to receive in-state tuition. It’s not a scholarship that pays for part of your tuition, it just lets you pay in-state, rather than out-of-state or as an international student. While I was grateful that I was able to have in-state tuition, being undocumented meant that I couldn’t apply for scholarships, even if I met all of the other qualifications. This was simply because of me not being a “citizen”. It hurt when I realized this; my undocumented status barred me from so many scholarships I would otherwise possibly receive. Before applying for colleges, I felt sure that applications were going to be manageable. I had a high GPA, many service hours, was involved in multiple clubs, etc. But it wasn’t because of these accomplishments that I thought I deserved to go somewhere. It was because I knew I had put so much work in, I deserved this. But the college application process ended up being pretty rigorous—with one school, I only received about half the aid I needed. And of course I can’t get a loan, because that requires finding someone who is a U.S. citizen, and knowing someone who’s willing to take the risk of supporting an undocumented student who may not receive a job right away [to pay off the loan]. For another school, DACA students were supported, but only if you had graduated from the county the school represents. And for yet another school, I was left running around. I had to keep on speaking to various people on the totem pole, explaining my situation. They didn’t know what an undocumented student is, and kept on acting like I was an international student. Because of this, they asked me to show physical proof that I can afford all 4 years of school without help. I obviously can’t do that, and I’m not an international student, either. There were so many times I cried in the scholarship advisor’s room at my high school. I honestly did not know if I was going into higher education or not. By May 1st, you’re required to pay your deposit. Most students decide on where they want to attend in January or February, and I was just starting to figure things out in March.

Not to interrupt, but I want to comment on the challenges you faced in applying to college. I love that you had decided for yourself “my status should not be a barrier to my higher education”. You chose to apply to both public and private universities, out-of-state, and even some Ivy Leagues. My friend, who I’ve also interviewed, chose to remain in Florida because of her specific circumstances. And there’s nothing wrong with that. But I feel like many undocumented people are so used to the limitations inherent in their situation, that they’re too afraid to even question the possibility of something bigger. This is of course not their fault at all, by any means. But it is so disheartening to know that it exists. You were resilient in your search, and I just had to highlight how much I admire that.

I want immigrants to be judged based on what they’ve done, not on whether they have “X” or “Y”. Also, I don’t want to be seen as a bad investment. Maybe I am, when it comes to the things I can’t control such as my status. But what it comes to the things I can control like my work, I’m not.

I have to interrupt you there, and say that I disagree with your statement that you’re a bad investment. Even if it is just regarding the things you can’t control. I hate that DACA students have to prove so much. During one of the lectures for my course, we discussed the DACA student’s perpetual struggle in fighting for their validity. The political left often does just as much damage as the right, when they construct DACA students as heroes, who deserve to stay because 1) They didn’t chose to come to this country (thus implying that it is the parents’ faults for bringing their children here) and 2) That DACA students are an example of the “good immigrant” model, and prove their worth in the contributions they make to the U.S. throughout their careers. There is an immense amount of pressure placed on the shoulders of DACA students to “prove” their worth, to, essentially, argue for their right to remain in this country. All because they weren’t born here! Meanwhile, there are U.S. citizens who face absolutely no pressure, but who don’t vote, don’t care about politics, have the freedom to lead an ordinary life, and aren’t criticized for it simply because they are “American”. DACA students have value, because all human beings have inherent value. So you’re not a bad investment, not at all.

I’m not saying that I deserve more than a U.S. citizen who’s not doing anything for this country. I just think that we should be on the same footing. I would like to have the same access to rights that a U.S. citizen has, that’s all I want.

I appreciate what you said just now, I suppose I got a little passionate. It shouldn’t be a matter of “who deserves more based on how they contribute to society (whether documented or not)”. It should really be based on human rights, including ALL people. The political control over borders has become increasingly strict, and I think this contributes to the issue we’re speaking about. Borders are helpful when it comes to identifying culture, but when it becomes a matter of establishing absolute boundaries, dehumanization is the result. It becomes a matter of “Us” vs “Them”, and the language that the U.S. uses when discussing immigrants (i.e., “aliens”) is reflective of, and contributes to the upholding of this horrible insider-outsider binary.

So we’ve spoken about your initial journey here, the adjustment period, and how your status affected you while you applied for college applications. How have all of these experiences collectively shaped your perception of the U.S.?

I still believe in the American dream, I still think it’s possible for everyone. The U.S. is still a symbol of that hope, for me. Regardless of how America is painted given the recent travel ban and other rulings during this administration—this is my country. A lot of kids don’t stand up for the pledge; I noticed this in high school, and I’m sure you did, too. But I always stood up for the pledge. No matter how hard my journey has been, everything I’ve had, I got it through America. Even in my own country, I wouldn’t have had the opportunities I have had here. Back there, most kids can’t attend college unless their parents are rich. It actually would have been harder for me to attend higher education had I remained. America also has a higher standard of living, which has given my family a better life. When I first arrived, my mom, sister and I all lived in a 1 bedroom apartment. Now we have our own cars, and a 3 bedroom apartment. On this note, I don’t see Donald Trump as someone who is speaking for the U.S., when he speaks. I see him as just a guy. Honestly, if I were drafted, I would more than willingly go. Like you said, a lot of DACA students want to give back. I don’t want to give back to the U.S., I want to give back to my community. I don’t want to segregate myself as someone not from the U.S., I just want to be a regular Joe.

Thank you so much for your words, I especially love your comment about not wanting to segregate yourself from the U.S., which touches upon our discussion of the “Us” vs “Them” binary the U.S. creates around immigrants, when many immigrants (especially those who entered the country at a young age) view themselves as part of American society. I’d like to ask you one final question. What advice, if any, would you give to a future or current DACA student? Or maybe you’d like to give a message to your younger self?

I used to work for my dad—my primary motive was to prove him wrong, that I wouldn’t also become a woman loving guy who spent all his money. At first, that’s how I felt after receiving DACA—that I needed to prove people wrong by showing them what a DACA student really looks like. But at the end of the day, what do I achieve by proving people wrong? Nothing. So I changed my perspective. I would recommend to just do things for yourself, do things because it makes you happy. And maybe what you want isn’t always achievable. But don’t think “It’s either you do it, or you don’t”. I’m sure all of them know that. When I was in the scholarship advisor’s room, I felt that I had let my parents down. But at the end of the day, I was okay, I ended up attending college after all. And if the ultimate dream doesn’t end up working, there are other possibilities out there for you.

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