I immigrated to the United States as an infant and came into this country as a danger instead of a dreamer. In stories like mine, we didn’t move out of choice but of necessity. Growing up, I didn’t know the hidden weight I was carrying compared to others around me. Since learning the true weight that comes along with being undocumented, I have had to face intense realities that have built the person I am today.
Hearing the word “undocumented” for the first time, it wasn’t a surprise for me. Although I did not fully understand it at the time, my mom has always been consistent in telling us to stay out of trouble, especially with the law.
Being undocumented, you learn quickly to know your worth and become resilient, because you can not let people deter you. You constantly experience feeling dehumanized, and recognize that you need to look within yourself to find the confidence to keep moving forward. Because that is the only way for us, forward.
While it is so much easier to get accustomed to the culture here, you struggle to navigate your roots. You have this feeling of… ni de aquí ni de allá, you cherish the traditions of your homeland, but then realize that you can’t visit and see for yourself. People don’t understand the gravity of knowing that one day, you can be sent back to a place you never had the opportunity to explore.
As an undocumented person, I had this feeling that I needed to be camouflaged all the time. I felt like my status was something to be ashamed of, something that branded me. I overheard discussions of how my classmates view undocumented people, and it showed me how negatively society views people like me. But at some point, I started to realize how tiring hiding my identity is compared to being confident in it. You begin to tell yourself that, “No matter my history, I belong here.” As time passed, I slowly began taking back my identity and making it my own. While embracing who I am, I began to wonder who I could be in the future. That is when I realized I wanted to work in law and represent those who share my experiences.
Immigrants are associated with something other than danger: labor. It’s hard to disconnect from the notion that my worth depended on the labor I could provide. I saw how many jobs my parents had to do just to keep us fed. I decided to take advantage of the biggest privilege my parents gave me — my education. Seeing yourself in higher education is rough. I wondered how I was going to fit into an institution that was not designed for me. But I always remember the risks my family took to get me here and understand that this is a challenge I am meant to overcome.
Now, I am in my last year of undergrad at the University of California, Berkeley. Being here was something I never knew I could accomplish. I have always worked hard in school, getting good grades and utilizing the education my parents sacrificed so much for me to have. Before, I originally intended to go to community college in Fresno because, hearing about an institution such as Berkeley, it never sounded like I could belong.
But as I have said, growing up undocumented, you naturally close off opportunities for yourself just because of your status. At some point, I had had enough of letting my status decide where I go in the future. It was a big risk and a significant change for me. This was going to be my first time being away from my family, from my friends, and moving somewhere all alone.
But looking at the bigger picture, nothing would be more of a testament to my willpower and determination than getting my degree from the number one public university. It would prove that undocumented people can achieve the dreams they came here to accomplish, the dream I have had since I was a little one. Experiencing the threats of this current administration, continuing to hear the narrative that I am dangerous and unwanted, it fuels my drive to go forward and beyond.
Mi Historia is El Tímpano’s first-person narrative series that amplifies community voices. This story was produced in the UC Berkeley course “Undocumented America,” and is part of The Stakes, a UC Berkeley Journalism reporting project.
