Being undocumented
Being undocumented in this country is like holding your breath for a long time and not knowing just when or where you can let it go. Sometimes the discovery of this status feels like having a nightmare where you're running towards a door but the faster you run, the farther it gets. This door holds the dreams and goals you've had your whole life. Or sometimes it feels like you're screaming but no one can hear you, no one wants to hear you. This identity is an isolated one. It's one people are often very uneducated about or are very hateful towards. This identity tells you that you crashed the party and no one wants you here. But it's not a party, it's country. And the people that don't want you there have already stripped your ancestors of free labor and work to build the land they are trying to claim as their own.
Being undocumented in this country is also a story of reclaiming your narrative. It's a story of shattering stereotypes. Being undocumented is spitting on the walls they try to build because our dreams are too big for borders. This identity is one where you make your way, you make it happen. You come out of the shadows, you yell and shout. This identity begs you to become unapologetic and fight for what you want because this country will never hand it to you. This identity turns you into an activist, whether you are marching and yelling in the streets or simply existing, you are resisting.
Being an undocumented first generation college student has been the biggest challenge of my life. But in the same sense, it has been the greatest blessing. I've learned so much about my resilience, and about my community's tenacity and power. I learned to never take anything for granted and how to appreciate all I have. Out of thousands of college graduates this May, I will be one of the less than 5% who are undocumented students. We did it, with no financial aid, and often no scholarships. With little systemic support, with a lack of access to resources, and with almost no representation. We did it, with the hope to make our parents proud, with the hopes to empower our brothers and sisters.
Being undocumented in this country is a story of war, blood, tears, and survival. We are and have been ready for battle. Our value and worth is more than the hate the media spews about us and we will never be silenced. Our existence, our bodies, our souls are not illegal. Humans cannot be illegal. We rise up, we fight back, we make each other proud and we keep going.