“Letters from Immigrants” is a series of testimonials gathered by Chaos+Comrades. The series aims to create a deeper understanding of the immigrant experience and humanize the millions of people who come to the United States in search of a better life.
The Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) is an Obama-era law that protects undocumented immigrants from deportation and gives them a legal right to work as long as they arrived to the United States as children. Recipients of DACA are referred to as DREAMers.
Haziel, the author of this letter, is a DREAMer.
–
Dear Reader,
At the age of three, I arrived to the United States with my aunt, grandparents, and older sister from La Paz, Bolivia. It was 2001 and my parents were not able to come with us due to a restriction in visa approvals after the 9/11 attacks and their visas were denied for the next four years. I recall moments when I missed my parents and did not understand why we had to be apart. I made many drawings in school of my non-immediate family which did not include my mom nor my dad. I eventually grew accustomed to not having my parents around.
Although I do not remember my parents outwardly telling me that I was undocumented, there were three instances when I realized that I was, in fact, undocumented and felt the repercussions of being undocumented. The first time was when I wanted to go on class trips outside of the country but my parents did not allow me to go. I was always taking advanced courses and trying my best since Elementary school and was an avid reader. I didn’t understand why I could not join the rest of my peers but I assumed that it was because my parents did not have enough money or that they were afraid of sending me far away with people they did not know. I got a sense that something was wrong, but those reasons were valid enough for me to not worry and trust that they were adults and knew what was best.
The second instance was seeing my older sister, who is also undocumented, struggling throughout high school and college. I watched her have difficulties applying to colleges during a time when colleges were not informed on how to handle students with undocumented status or simply did not accept them. Undocumented students in Virginia needed to pay out-of-state tuition before 2014, which was double the tuition of a citizen student and we also did not qualify for any form of federal aid and had access to very limited scholarships. I appreciated my sister’s strength and courage to overcome the obstacles that she did and so I knew that if I had to endure the same struggles, I had someone to look to for support and guidance.
In 2012, Obama took executive action and announced that DACA would be enacted in Washington DC. I remember watching the announcement on TV when I was 14 years old, about to start high school in the fall. I felt a sense of relief that I would not have to endure the same struggles that my sister did. I was not old enough to apply for DACA, so I waited a year to, and was accepted. I did not have to pay the $464 fee because I was only 15, but knowing that my parents would have to pay that amount every two years until I turned 18 or 19 made me upset at the injustice. At the time, I did not fully grasp the gravity of impact that DACA would have on my life until later in life, but I saw the impact through the lenses of people who were older than me, such as my older sister and her peers.
The third instance I realized I was undocumented was when my father was detained by ICE at a traffic stop as he was coming home from work one night. He was taken to Farmville Detention Center; a detention center in Virginia, about 3 hours away from my family and I never got to speak to him or visit him while he was detained. My sister and mother worked day and night to fight his case and support our family while I took care of my little sister and tried my best to continue school. With the help of a family lawyer and my sister’s advocacy work, his case was closed by the time I started my junior year of high school.
With DACA, I have been able to attend Virginia Commonwealth University where I am majoring in Information Systems. I have been able to work in different jobs and interned for newly elected Virginia State Senator Dick Saslaw and most recently worked with an organization called Feminist Majority. I also got the opportunity to be an Interviewee and Performer on WUSA9 for a collaborative music project I worked on last year called American Dreamers, Voices of Hope, Music of Freedom by John Daversa; the project received 3 Grammy nominations in December of 2018. This record I helped produce then went on to win 3 Grammy awards in the category of Best Large Jazz Ensemble Album, Best Improvised Jazz Solo, and Best Arrangement, Instrumental or A Cappella on February 10th, 2019.
In November of 2019, DACA ligations went to the Supreme Court and the future of DACA is still at stake. There are many things that I wish I had known growing up undocumented would mean: one of them is the looming uncertainty that even when there is a “solution” presented by the government, it is never a real one. In the midst of my youth, like many people in my situation, I had to experience many difficult things most kids and even adults in this country have not and, now that I am an adult, it has gotten more difficult. Even with DACA, most jobs always require background checks and clearance, which require citizenship. Some jobs make it even more difficult for you to get paid and taxes are always deducted even when we do not receive any of the benefits. Undocumented people in most states cannot access medical care. I envision a better future for those in similar situations and for those that have not been as fortunate as myself. Someone who wants to be an ally should get informed and do advocacy work that involves their communities and creates these spaces for those who are undocumented. Having conversations about our communities with the understanding that we have many different intersections is also important to understand. Although DACA has given me many opportunities that I will forever be grateful for, it is ultimately a temporary solution to a greater problem.
Love,
Haziel
