I Came to America When I Was Three. What Am I Supposed to Do in Mexico? Cesar Virto - Politico Magazine | |
go to original September 6, 2017 |
What ‘Dreamers’ Gained from DACA, and Stand to Lose: As President Trump moves to end the Obama-era program that shields young undocumented immigrants from deportation, listen to a few of the 800,000 affected by the program. (The New York Times)
My parents brought me to the United States when I was 3 years old. I’ve gone to school here, worked here, paid taxes. I’m as American as you are.
On Sunday, I learned that the president wants to send me back to Mexico. Or, at least, he isn’t willing to defend my right to stay here. Either way, my life is about to be radically upended.
My parents didn’t teach me Spanish. I grew up in a small town in Alabama, speak with a southern accent, and didn’t even know I was undocumented until I was 16 years old. I grew up reciting the Pledge of Allegiance, and have always considered this country my home.
Now President Trump plans to end DACA, and I could be deported to Mexico, a country that is completely foreign to me. I’d have nowhere to live, no family to stay with and no way to find work. I would live in a different country than my American wife, who without financial support would have to sell our new house.
My story isn’t an unusual one. Like countless others, when I was an infant my family fled from poverty and cartel violence. After they crossed the border, they settled in a small town in northwestern Alabama. My parents made sure I learned English, and as a child when people asked me where I was from, I told them Alabama without hesitation. To me, that was the truth.
I first heard the word “undocumented” when I was 16 years old. I enrolled in driving classes at my school, but I was told I couldn’t get a driving license because I didn’t have the right documents. Until that point, I had no idea I was considered an “undocumented” person in America. It crushed me to find out. For years, I was angry at my father for not coming into the country the “right way.” Looking back, I suppose my parents were afraid to tell me the truth, or didn’t want me to be afraid.
Once I realized what being undocumented meant for my life, things got hard. My family couldn’t afford to send me to college, and since I wasn’t an American citizen I couldn’t qualify for college scholarships or financial aid. I was tempted to quit school, because there didn’t seem like much of a point. After graduation, my classmates talked about their future, and when they asked me what my plans were I would say nothing because I was too embarrassed to tell them I was undocumented.
Because it is difficult to find work without papers, friends and family encouraged me to get a fake ID and take a job in an immigrant-heavy industry like construction. They told me it was the only option. But I felt that relying on a fake ID was wrong, and I was determined to obtain an education and job legally.
Luckily, a white couple from a few doors down began helping me.
Read the rest at Politico
Related: “Fight for the American Dream” Say Mexican Families of Dreamers (Reuters)
Related: Mexico Will Lobby US Congress to Protect “Dreamers” from Deportation (PanAm Post)
Related: How DACA Affected the Mental Health of Undocumented Young Adults (The Conversation)
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