The Journey Here

My dad was never really around. Part of it was work, but the other part was drinking. He was an alcoholic, so my mom had to do a lot to take care of us. She went through a lot of physical and emotional abuse. I don’t know if he meant it, but it happened. My mom knew she needed to get us out so we left.

I know I was only eight, but I had friends, family, stuff and it hurt to leave it all behind. My mom told us that we weren’t coming back, and we were like “Why? Why not?” I was young, I didn’t understand. We made it to Florida and from there we took a bus to Kansas.

We made it here safely. It was during the Fall and it was beautiful. I was with my family, so it was happy, but it was also traumatic. It’s so weird, it’s been so long since I’ve talked about this with anyone.

My mom enrolled us in school. and we moved around a lot, which meant a lot of schools. When I got to school and realized I didn’t know the language, it was so creepy. It was terrible, horrible. I hated it. I would wait on the corner for the bus, and people would try to talk to me, I had to tell them that I didn’t speak English. That was the worst feeling in the world. It’s like you want to understand, but you don’t.

Kids would make fun of me when I would try to speak English and it hurt. I was bullied and that’s not something you forget.

It was hard, but you kind of get used to it, you get used to it being hard. In school I never felt smart. I’m not against the ESL (English as a Second Language) system, but they would pull you out of math, science, and English to go to ESL class, and I think I would have had a better handle on school and the English language if I had just stayed in the regular classes.

Before high school I never thought about the fact that I was undocumented, I didn’t understand, maybe I didn’t even know. In high school everyone was getting their cars and licenses, but I couldn’t. My boyfriend’s mom would ask “When are you getting your permit?” “When are you going to be able to drive?” and I couldn’t be like “I can’t because I’m illegal.” It was embarrassing. I just wanted to fit in and I was never going to.

This is the time in my life when the shame started.

After 9/11 things felt noticeably harder- me and my mom speaking Spanish to each other and people saying “speak English” and people giving us mean looks, I felt it. To this day when I go places with my family I feel shame when we are talking, laughing, being loud and I see people looking at us, I hate it. I hate that we are being looked at and we can’t be ourselves. Why do people have to look at us? I don’t think that will ever go away, so I need to learn to deal with it. I need to just embrace who we are and not to feel like I have to change.

When most people graduate from high school they’re excited, but I felt stuck. My boyfriend at the time was so privileged and here he was with an illegal girlfriend. He didn’t know that, but I felt like his family didn’t think I wasn’t good enough for him. I’m a mom now, so I can understand. It wasn’t true and I know that now, but I get wanting the best for your son, because that is what I want for mine.

After graduation I couldn’t find a good job. I had been working since I was 13, but I felt like I was cheated out of opportunities. I wanted to get a good job and I wanted to go to school. I still want to go to college - I mean I will - one day. I know it’s going to be hard, but I know I can do it, because the opportunity is there. It’s weird feeling to know that going to school is now an option for me- I don’t care how old I am.

And you know what? I’m ashamed to say this, but after a few years of having my papers, I forgot what that was like. I forgot about that feeling of being stuck, shamed, worried. I had lived in such anxiety, the moment I had relief I forgot the fear. But I do fear for everyone going through that now and it’s so much harder and scarier.

I love the US and I’m grateful that my mom brought me here. I am learning to not be ashamed of my journey, but proud. I also need to remember that I’m not the only one. I can’t use it as an excuse to not do something. There are so many people that have immigrated here that are doing great things, so why can’t I? If they can do it, so can I. Right now I’m working to give my son stability. I am so thankful that he doesn’t have to know that same fears and anxieties. I want so much for him and honestly it makes me appreciate how my mom did it, alone, with three kids.

Mi pelucon,

Dios mío, cómo paso el tiempo. My hope for you is that you take on the world and that you don’t feel limited in the ways that I did. That you are brave, bold and fearless when you face the hard times. That you appreciate your blessings and always know that I tried my best. I don’t know who I would be without you, but you are my world. I love you, unconditionally, and know, that no matter what, that I am here. You changed me. You changed the way I see the world, the expectations that I have for myself and my own life. Thank you.