Never let someone tell you who you are because you write your journey. Don’t let yourself get defeated by a small obstacle. You can succeed once you embrace the problem.
Growing up, kids at school would ask me if I jumped over the border to get here or if my parents jumped over. I would always say no, and that I was from the United States. I never really asked my parents because I didn’t want them to know that kids would mess with me because of my skin color. I also didn’t take it too seriously because I thought we were just joking and laughing, even though it started to bother me and make me really think about my status.
As I got into middle school, I found out that my dad came to the United States illegally and that he decided he wanted to move my family out to the U.S. I didn’t know how to feel, whether I was more mad or upset. I felt mad because we were here undocumented and didn’t understand why we didn’t come here legally. I was upset because I realized all those kids were right and that we did “jump the border.” I didn’t like that they were right because I felt like they were right about who I was as a person. After processing everything, I realized that the way we came was more accessible than “getting in line.” While I did know we weren’t documented, I thought we could still do everything other people did whether it was to get a job or go to college. Little did I know that I was wrong and that we technically weren’t allowed to do simple things.
When Barack Obama became president in 2009, I didn’t know how much it would change my life. Obama created the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program, commonly called DACA, in 2012. This program allowed people who were brought to the United States illegally when they were children to work and be able to go to college. When the program became active, I was so happy for my brother and couldn’t wait to turn 15, so I could apply.
Since then, it has been a struggle dealing with whether they are going to cancel the program or keep it. My family and I have prayed that they keep the program or decide that they will make all DACA recipients legal citizens. I remember being scared during the 2016 campaign because Donald Trump‘s campaign revolved around making a border wall and getting rid of DACA. I recall when they announced he was elected president, I cried and cried. I thought this is it, the place I consider my home was going to be ripped away from me. However, the Supreme Court denied Trump’s effort to end DACA.
Along the way, I learned how to appreciate my parents. They gave up everything so that they could give my siblings and me a better life. They always say how even though it was hard, they wanted us to get a better education than what we would have gotten back in Mexico. Not only do I appreciate them emotionally, but I also appreciate them financially. Being on DACA means that I can’t apply for student loans, so my family and I have to pay out of pocket, which gets hard with everything else we’re paying.
Paying out of pocket for college gets harder and harder for some people. A statistics that caught my attention from the American Council on Education site was that “Only five to 10 percent of DACA recipients enroll in college.” This makes me upset because I know some people can’t afford to go to college, so they stay home and work.
Some emotions that I have dealt with since becoming a DACA recipient have been sadness, happiness and scared. I’m happy because DACA opened doors for me that I wouldn’t be able to have without the program. I can work and go to school, which are two essential factors in my life. Not only am I happy for myself but my parents as well because all their hard work has gotten me to where I am now in life.
I get sad because there are days that I want to leave and go back to Mexico. I want to be embraced by the culture and my family, but I know it’s impossible to go back without staying there forever. I wouldn’t mind visiting, but I feel as though the United States is my home and all I know.
I’ve been scared because I wasn’t one to tell people that I was a DACA student because I never knew how people would take it. My sister and brother would tell a lot of people that they were on DACA and I didn’t understand how they could do that and not be scared of what someone would do with that information. Then I talked to my sister, Ahtziri Lopez Santiago, about how I was afraid of what people would do and how I didn’t understand how she could so do it with such ease.
“It’s not easy for me to tell people that I’m a DACA recipient. It’s scary what someone can do with that information. Though I would rather people be aware that someone they have known for so long is dealing with this issue. They hear about it on the news, but they don’t care until they find out someone they know is undocumented. It’s an eye-opening experience for them, and it makes them more aware,” Ahtziri Lopez Santiago said.
After talking, it made more sense why she was so open with her status. I also read an article written by Kok-Leong Seow, where he talks about how people need to feel our pain as DACA recipients to understand us in a deeper way.
It wasn’t until last year that I started to be more comfortable telling people that I am undocumented. I can’t let fear take over my life and can’t let a status define me as a person. I am more than my citizenship status.
I want other recipients to know that you don’t have to be scared. Go to college, pursue your dreams, and don’t let anyone stop you.
