La Universidad Americana: Perspective from a Child of Undocumented Immigrants

I turned 21 at the beginning of February. To some, it means a newfound freedom to drink, go out to clubs, or finally use your real ID at Papa’s Liquor. 

But for me, turning 21 means starting a process to give my parents something I’ve always wished for them: a chance to obtain U.S. legal status.

I wish I could say I’m not afraid of the steps ahead, but with all honesty, I’m not sure. I feel alone. More alone than ever. 

On March 3rd, United We Dream and American University’s Latinos En Accion led a walk out in support of immigrants and students with immigrant backgrounds or family members. Representatives and members from many student organizations spoke and lent their support. Students for Justice in Palestine, AU Muslim Student Association, Asian American Student Union, First Generation Student Union, to name a few.

“It’s okay to be scared from everything we are hearing on the news. We may all express it differently, but the way I express it is by devoting time to action,” said Anthony Sandoval, an event organizer and sophomore at AU.

In a way, it was surreal for me. Seeing a sea of white, brown, and black faces, ready and determined to uplift the spirits of students and whose families are facing the fears and consequences of recent immigration policies. It’s a repeat of our worst fears from eight years ago. 

At its peak, there must have been easily over a hundred students, rallying in support for families like mine. Every speaker spoke with grace and conviction, and for a moment, even as just a face in the crowd, they succeeded. In a world where families like mine are often made to feel invisible, I felt like we were seen.

“Show me what community looks like! THIS is what community looks like!”

”We must love and protect each other. We have nothing to lose but our chains!”

“Se puede? Si se puede, si se puede, si se puede!”

“Unstoppable, Undeniable, Undocumented, Unafraid!”

However, as the crowd dwindled down, and the walkout came to a close, all feelings of such comfort, warmth, and safety, ceased.

I’m meant to return to being just another student: attending classes, writing paper after paper, and going through the motions of everyday college life. I should feel good, right? I spent some time supporting a worthy cause and standing up for immigrants and students. Cool.

But no matter how much I try, I can't slip back into being just another student. It’s students like me that they are advocating for. There is this constant fear that looms over me, and it follows me every day. Any day, I could receive a phone call, a letter, a knock on my door. Any day could be my last seeing my parents in the United States. It’s not fair.

It feels like a ticking time bomb in my head, one where I am not sure when it could hit zero. No matter how far I make it, try to escape it with a drink or two, or try to live a normal college student life, I will always be burdened by factors I can’t control.

As a child of immigrants, I feel a lot of weight on my shoulders attending AU. There’s a pressure to succeed and be perfect, pressure to make sure I’m not wasting any precious time, but most importantly, there’s an unending pressure to make sure my parents’ sacrifices were well worth it.

But despite all these fears and worries I was handed, I don’t resent my parents. I love them as much as any child ideally should.

I see them growing older, their hair turning greyer and their skin becoming more wrinkled. They work grueling jobs, often in the heat or non ideal conditions, paying into a social security system and social safety net they may never benefit from, all to secure a better future for my siblings and me. There are those who would label them with insults, deny them a place, or want to push them out from this country. However in my eyes, the ideals, spirit and love for the red, white, and blue runs deep through them.

“I felt power, I felt strength. I felt resilience seeing the crowd today,” said Isabel Alvarado, event organizer and senior at AU, ”I think remembering that immigration is not just a Latino issue, it’s a community issue that attacks all of us. Your neighbor, your best friend, classmates and peers, we all know someone affected by this.”

What students like me need are more of these forms of acknowledgement: campus walkouts, administration recognition, or even just a friend who will listen. There needs to be more acknowledgement that there are many people on this campus who are just trying to find some semblance of normalcy, comfort, and a hope of a future for themselves, and their family. 

Seeing a community like United We Dream and Latinos En Accion, with its members draped in beautiful Latin American flags, and the coalition of groups who joined to make a statement, gave me, even for just a second, a continued hope of having a future in this country that I can believe in and fight for. 

If you are lucky enough to not have any of these worries, I assure you, you know someone who does. Now more than ever are immigrants and their families stressed and worried about their place in this country. We need you, as much as you need us.

We want to feel seen, heard, supported. The walkout in which we saw the AU community band together means so much more to us than any one of you could imagine. Para mi gente, I see you, I feel you, and I agree, it’s not fair. Our stakes are higher, and as strong as I know we all are, we cannot keep going through this alone. As intimidating as it is, don’t feel afraid to use your voice and ask for help.

“Be strong and keep your head up,” said Naomi, senior student at AU, “I know it is easier said than done.” 

The American University means far more to immigrant parents like mine. It’s not just an institution of higher education, a stepping stone for their child's career, or a place to send their child to spend their prime years.

For our parents, La Universidad Americana embodies their continued belief in the American Dream. We are their American Dream.