Thread: Hitting the Paper Ceiling -- 'I Am An Undocumented Human'

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Hitting the Paper Ceiling -- 'I Am An Undocumented Human'

New America Media, Youth Commentary, Diego Ramirez, Feb 01, 2006

Editor's Note: A young undocumented Mexican immigrant says not having a piece of paper can change your whole life and put dreams on hold. Diego Ramirez, 21, works for the Youth Communications Team of New America Media. His name has been changed. Third in a series of articles on growing up undocumented.

SAN JOSE, Calif.--I fall into the category of being an undocumented human. It's a concept I can't grasp. I don't understand why holding a piece of paper would change who I am. But not holding it changes everything about what I can do now that I've hit adulthood.

I came here when I was five years old -- my mother paid a "coyote" to take us across the border from Mexico. I've always gone to school in this country, from kindergarten through community college, but when it came time to transfer to a four-year university, I discovered I'd reached the end of the line.

People think, "You're not going to college because you're not smart enough," but it's not that. I had good grades, I ran track, I do a lot of community work -- I got into a number of schools. But I can't get financial aid because of my status. I'm 21 years old and I've hit a wall.

When you're an immigrant child, the dream of your parent is for you to do the best you can. My mom wants that fulfillment of being able to say, "My son went to a university." And I'd like to give it to her. It's hard for her to accept that I've gone as far as I can.

My first sense that my opportunities would be limited because of a piece of paper came when I was 8 years old. I had a best friend who was really privileged, and he invited me to go to Italy with him and his family. I was really excited, until I found out that I couldn't leave the country. Without a U.S. passport, I wouldn't be able to come back.

I'd hear of raids in other places and I'd have visions of that happening, and what I would do. It's something you have no control over -- tomorrow you could wake up and your parent's missing. Now that I'm older I can be more self-sufficient, but when you're a child, it's just a horrible feeling. No one can comfort you.

When you first hear the term "illegal alien," there's no way to understand it except that you're a criminal. You're seen as "something else." Then your mind has to process the idea that you're not human -- because that's how you feel, dehumanized. "You're not the same as me. Even though we walk and talk and eat the same, you're not the same. You don't have the same rights."

That's when I started to create this lie within myself. All through high school, I didn't tell anybody that I wasn't legal. I came up with this lie that I had committed a crime and that's why I wasn't able to get a driver's license. When it came to traveling, my excuse was that I didn't have any money.

Eventually, I got to an age where I said, "There's no need for lies." I have nothing to be ashamed of. I didn't make a decision to break the law. At age 5, I wasn't thinking, "Let me go invade this country and give them my tax dollars!" Even today, people will say to me, "Why don't you just go back now? Maybe it wasn't your decision to come, but now that you're an adult, just go back and undo the crime." But how can I go back to a place I barely remember?

My mom is optimistic -- she's always coming into my room saying, "Look, they're gonna pass a law, you're gonna be able to drive!" Or "Guess what, they're passing a law and you're gonna be able to get help with college!" Then it doesn't happen.

I try not to think about that stuff so I don't get my hopes up. But I'm always trying to figure out ways to be able to cross over and visit my family in Mexico. My mom is the youngest out of eight sisters and one brother, and except for her and my aunt, they are all in Mexico. My father is too, so I don't know my family. I don't know my roots. It makes me feel like an incomplete human being.

College students I know go and get drunk in Tijuana and they walk right over. I don't want to be thinking, "OK, what can I buy, what can I forge?" just so I can go visit my family and then come back to my life. But that's the reality -- to see my family, to be complete, I'd have to start thinking like a criminal.

By law, I'm not allowed to get a job, but I've always found ways to work -- everything from the stereotypical dishwasher to graphic design. I pay taxes, and my mom has paid taxes since the minute we got here. We're not draining something from the economy.

I've always felt that other immigrants from European countries are seen as dreamers -- they're doing that American dream thing. They came as immigrants and they're gonna strive for a business, but if want to do the same thing, I'm seen as a burden.

I don't want to take anything from the government. I just want to be able to be a human, you know? I have the will; I just don't have the way.

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No Papers, No Job

New America Media, Youth Commentary, Victoria Garcia, Feb 01, 2006

Editor's Note: "We both have the same blood running through our veins," says a young Mexican-American about her undocumented friend. So why can one get a job while the other cannot? Victoria Garcia, 18, is a staff writer for YO! Youth Outlook Multimedia, a project of New America Media. Fourth in a series on growing up undocumented.

BERKELEY, Calif.--My friends and I were just sitting on the shady park benches trying to keep out of the sun's way when Mark, a youth worker we knew, approached us. I was with Traviesa and Dopey.

"Hey you guys, I found a job for you!" Mark yelled on his way over to us. All we had to do was go in and do the paperwork, he said. We followed him back to his office to handle it.

After we wrote down our names and addresses and all that stuff, he told us we had to return the next day with our birth certificates, social security cards and photo IDs.

I was excited to think that I was finally getting a job. I was so happy for myself that I didn't even hear when my best friend Traviesa mentioned to Mark that she wouldn't be able to work with him. All I heard was Mark saying, "Why not? I thought you wanted a job!"

That's when my friend said that she couldn't get a job there because she didn't have all the paperwork.

She was born in Mexico and came to the United States with her family when she was 4. They settled in Los Angeles for a couple of years and then her family moved to Berkeley. I met her in middle school in one of my classes.

She's about 5-foot-4-inches with very long, black, straight hair. When I first met her I thought she was Filipino, maybe even mixed with a little bit of black, but definitely not Mexican. She didn't have an accent either. I heard our teacher say her last name, Gonzales, and that's when I asked her her nationality.

I didn't believe her at first, but when she started bustin' out with the Spanish that's when I knew that she wasn't lying.

I was born here -- my mom was born in Mexico and my dad was born in the United States. I don't have to worry about things like papers. I'm a Mexican-American and Traviesa is a Mexican. We both have the same blood running through our veins, only she was born on the other side of the border.

She acts no different than me and in our group of friends she doesn't get treated any differently. People at school talk to her like they would anybody else. The teachers teach her just like they would anybody else, and she learns the material like anybody else would. She's just like me, only she can't work at the same place I can because she doesn't have a card that says she's legally in the United States.

"I'll see what I can do," Mark told her. We left, and on the way home she was telling me about how she really wanted that job but that she didn't think she was going to get it. I didn't think she was going to get it either but I didn't want to say that. She was feeling bad enough already, the last thing I wanted to do was rub it in.

A week later we all got letters notifying us about the job. She didn't get it.

This is a load of BS right from the start. They are not undocumented, they have legal documents to work in Mexico.

But I can't get financial aid because of my status. I'm 21 years old and I've hit a wall.

IF YOU CANT GO TO COLLEGE ITS NOT BECAUSE OF YOUR ILLEGAL STATUS
its because it is out of reach for many many americans- either you go into debt or your parents mortgage everything-
quit blaming everything on being illegal- it seems that mexicans got the idea that the united states was one free ride.

No, you're an ILLEGAL ALIEN! DEAL WITH IT! It is not our fault you or your parents decided to BREAK OUR LAWS and come here illegally. If you don't like your status as a LAW BREAKER then go back to Mexico where you belong. Benefits and priveleges are for LEGAL IMMIGRANTS AND AMERICAN CITIZENS, not for anybody who happens to get their butt across the border. And if you don't like that either, then go back to your hellhole of a friggin country and ask them to provide you with a FREE OR LOW COST EDUCATION OR STUDENT LOANS, these are benefits fought for and paid for by LEGAL U.S. TAXPAYERS. Maybe down in Mexico they can teach how to paint a donkey with zebra stripes and you can have your own business on Revoluccion Ave. in TJ. I am so sick of these sob story, poor me, I'm an undocumented person, I should be able to get anything I want or you're all just a bunch of racists, bullcrap propaganda stories.

QUOTE:
My first sense that my opportunities would be limited because of a piece of paper came when I was 8 years old. I had a best friend who was really privileged, and he invited me to go to Italy with him and his family. I was really excited, until I found out that I couldn't leave the country. Without a U.S. passport, I wouldn't be able to come back.

By THIS time you were old enough to realize you and your parents were illegal here in America. You had your choice to go back home and obtain an education there. Being an "Undocumented Human" is not your problem, its being an "Illegal Alien". America OWES you nothing.
Next you will be saying "I am a Geographically Displaced Human who should be given the rights of EVERY citizen in the world, depending on where I want to live.