Remember when you were seven years old? How carefree and wonderful it was? All you had to worry about was your next sweet treat and perhaps the decision to wear your frilly pink skirt or Spiderman shirt the next day. Now imagine this is your life and you’re abruptly told that in two days you will be leaving for a new life, new country, new experiences, new everything. In that split instance, you know that life will never be the same. After all, you can’t take all of your Barbie’s and accessories on the plane with you to your “new life”. But, somehow you smile and go about your last two days at school knowing that you will never see your friends and teachers again. You can’t express your fear, nor tell anyone because migrating north is a secret. Seventy-two hours later it’s “Goodbye Ecuador, Hello America”. You arrive at JFK, and your search for the “American Dream” begins. This was me in 1994, and today the search for the “American Dream” continues.
I remember my first day of elementary school in New York like it was yesterday – mostly because it was the day that I made up my mind that I would be successful. I sat and stared at a green chalkboard in a classroom where I knew no one and understood nothing. My new home was a two-bedroom apartment that I shared with nine family members (a drastic change from the beach house I’d spent the last seven years of my life in). I remember sitting on the top bunk at night and crying, “I’m dying to learn English.” At only seven years old, it was clear that life would be tough, but I knew that I was tougher.
I attended public schools from the age of 7-17 while being undocumented. I was a typical high school student that played soccer and worked a part-time job. During my senior year of high school, while everyone debated about majors and what college they would attend, I secretly wished to do the same – but I couldn’t because of my immigration status. Instead, I pretended not to care about college and repeated over and over, “College is just not for me,” to anyone that asked. I wonder, how my life would be different – if I would have been on the same playing field and had the same opportunities as everyone else. If I would have known as a young child that I could have been anything I wanted, what kind of life could I have created for my family? For myself?
Today, I look back on my life and I’m proud of every struggle as well as the prosperous moments. I actually attended and graduated college, started a family, and currently work as a Director for a non-profit that helps students achieve successful careers. I wonder where I would be without the struggle of searching for the “American Dream.” The desire to build something from nothing is what built this country from the ground up. The desire to succeed, beat the odds, and do the impossible is what created this great nation. Immigrants bring that desire to this country, and that desire is what will continue to build this great nation. It is what we should be fighting to have in this country, not push out.
As we move forward in this post “build the wall” election, I question the motive behind blocking individuals with the passion and desire to succeed. As an immigrant, I have aspired to be the best contribution to the land I have chosen to live in. I choose to make MY America a better place, and I choose to do so in the America that molded me into the woman I am today. Those who come to this country in search of the “American Dream” have given up everything in order to achieve success, and if given the opportunity, they will keep America great instead of “Making America Great Again.”
This article was originally published on 3 July 2017.
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