Why I Should Not Be Illegal

Being a daughter of immigrant parents has never been easy here in America. Both my parents worked excessively hard to be financially stable. Unfortunately at the age of ten my life changed. I learned that my parents no longer loved each other. The arguing and fighting my parents had, only damaged me emotionally. I was too young to grasp the idea that my parents were separating which become one of the hardest times for my mom to maintain my siblings and I. Shortly after, I began attending church and fell in love with the idea of getting closer to God. Luckily, my life took an enormous turn the moment I gave my life to Christ. God has opened numerous opportunities for my education. I am proud of all the accomplishments I have achieved in high

As a first-generation American I’ve had to face certain challenges that people from non-immigrant families wouldn’t have to face. The most obvious challenge is subtle racism. I’ve had people, speaking directly to me, imitate the way other Indian people speak, make racist jokes (some people think racist jokes are validated if they’re speaking to someone from the race in question), justifying themselves by telling me things like “but you’re not like that.” I come from people who are “like that.” I may be an American but that doesn’t mean anyone can make comments about my family and where they come from. Another such challenge is that my parents often can’t help me navigate American life. But their experiences, the difficulties I’ve seen them face in their lives, and the values they’ve picked up and passed down to me have shaped how I approach life’s problems. Seeing their struggles to create a good life for our family in the US has taught me the importance of education, hard work, risk-taking, and optimism.

My childhood is filled with pleasant memories because my parents wanted better for me. They wanted more from me than to be that stereotypical “drop out” that would get me no where in life. I am an a regular student and I graduated high school class. I took my general ED courses, I was student body treasurer of the leadership class and a member of the Take Action Campaign. I'm attending a good community college and am in the AB540 club. I play different sports and am an active member of the community through The EduCare Foundation. I did everything right, the good way, the “normal” way. So why is it that in all of my accomplishments, the only question that I get is “How did you survived the challenges to get to where you are today?” Why does the fact that I am Hispanic mean I’m not a normal person to be

“Mom, will I ever be treated as a regular person? When will I be like the others without people look at me in a strange way and make fun of me, when mom? When?” Those were the questions I did to my mom almost every day after getting home from school. Fourteen years ago that my parents brought me to this country offering a better life with better opportunities than where I was born. I was seven years old when came to the United States, but I still remember the happiness I felt when I first step in this country. Throughout the years, I have realize that not everything is easy and simple as I imagined. My parents worked in the fields because of the lack of a social security and not knowing how to speak English. Many Americans do not know how hard it is the life of an immigrant, they should have a consideration for us and not just blame us for the deviance of the United States.

I am a first-generation immigrant, a DACA recipient, a DREAMer. I was brought into the United States as a child and since then have struggled to become a part of our society. Growing up, there was just enough for my family. The extra we had came at the cost of not being around the parents much and with the thought that they might not come back after work in the back of our minds. No matter how busy my parents were to provide for my brothers and I, they always made sure the little time they had was focus on us, our studies, and to raise us to be good citizens of the world.

I am a U.S. born citizen. My parents moved to the United States in 1984 without knowing anything about this country. Looking for a fresh start and new opportunities, my parents settled in Houston. With hardly knowing any English, my parents knew this was the place to make dreams become a reality. Luckily, I had older siblings to look up to whenever I needed help. Like Lahiri, I was trapped in between two different cultures while I was growing up. At home, I only spoke Spanish, but in school it was English. My habits and customs were different than others. Life as an immigrant’s offspring can be very difficult. As I grew older, I allowed myself to open my eyes and see the beauty of being an American from Hispanic descent.

I am a first generation college student that has made it to a higher education. I see myself as the second daughter, that has come out the land of pride and production. I am from Richmond, California, but that’s just where I geographically from, when in reality I came from a strong family of immigrants. My parents both came to the United States as a young 26, and 24-year-old parents of one child. I did not come until two years later that I came, I came into the world, and was already marked with the name of an anchor baby. As I grow up I did not really know what I was, what I did was always question myself, am I just a reason to keep my parents here longer? Why am I called an anchor baby? I felt that I did not fit in but my schools I went to school always had a mixture of students. I did not know what I was or who I was, I had not direct connection to any ethnicity. When I was in elementary school there where a mixture of Whites, Asians, Latinos, and African Americans ethnicities, grow up in a multicultural area I didn’t think about race or class as much as late in life. Race was a topic that I did not really think and talked about until I was placed into a private school that class was visible, and I began to be more aware or class and race. I would not talk about race or class at school, but I would wait to talk about it when I would get home.

My parents both came to this country at a very young age. My father was 16 when he first moved to the U.S. and my mother years later moved when she was 19. I am a child of immigrants and it was hard growing up. I consider myself a Mexican American or Chicana. I grew up in the suburbs of Los Angeles and later moved to Las Vegas. As I asked my father what he had to deal when he first moved he said “people would discriminate me just because I couldn’t speak well English and because of my brown skin”. “I was only 16 and wanted to live the American dream, but it was more like hell in America”. A lot of people are discriminated every day just because they aren’t Caucasian/white Americans, but they’re still American they live here and have a living here.

Every year, about 2.8 million students graduate from a United States high school. They have dreams of going to college or to the military to have an opportunity to make something of their lives. However, each year, there is also a group of about 65,000 students who will not have that chance to advance in their lives (CIR_DREAM paragraph 1). They are unable to do so because they were brought to the US illegally by their parents when they were children, and have the status of an illegal immigrant. Despite the fact that these individuals have lived their entire lives in the US, this immigration status hinders their ability to obtain a higher education. Although an immigrant may have been residing in the state for years, they are not allowed

It all stared at the age of five on hot summer day, the heat was horrible it was as though my very skin was had skipped the meting phase and had gone directly evaporating. To make the situation even worst, my family migrated from Nogales Sonora to Tucson Arizona in an old rusty car that had no working AC. Thinking back I really didn’t know the difference between a person born in the United States and a person born in Mexico, I didn’t even know there was a US and Mexico. I just thought my family was moving from one city to another and had no idea that every member of my family was a US citizen except my dad. Once in school later on in the years, I met a few friends that claimed to not be from the US but were in the country ever since they can

“My parents have been keeping a secret from me” my best friend Katia told me one day during our Algebra II class. I looked at her in confusion I didn’t understand why she was so upset, or any idea what her parents would be hiding from her. Looking at her, her face ever so frustrated, she told me “I don’t have a social security, I wasn’t born here, I’m an illegal immigrant”. This was very heavy news, considering the fact that we were only sophomores in high school. I couldn’t imagine the devastation she had to face when she was told by her parents that she couldn’t do or participate in certain things because of her immigration status, that discovery of course, she told me, was very hard for her. Anxiety over deportation should not have been a constant fear for her or anyone’s high school agenda, failing a course, now this, should have been the only scary thing about being in high school. Being the child of two illegal immigrants,who had just received their United States residency, myself, I saw how much my parents struggled. Both of my parents come from underprivileged families who immigrated to the United States came from Mexico to achieve a better life as teenagers. They later met here, got married, and had me here in San Jose, where I became a first generation United States citizen. I saw the amount of time and especially money invested in obtaining their residency, something, by what I understand, a high schooler has a very limited supply of. Time

The amount of illegal immigrants in the United States workforce is quickly decreasing the amount of Americans working today. With the large amounts of illegal immigrants coming into the United States we are losing a great deal of jobs. Now with the permits that are being supported from the higher ups in the United States Government illegal immigrants are now able to challenge the uneducated and the United States teens for jobs, but not the rich and wealthy. With all that being said we should not allow people from other countries to immigrate into ours.

Have you ever thought about how many illegal immigrants can cross the border and easily vote because no photo ID is required? There is definitely voter fraud in this country, which has a huge effect on the presidential election. If the congress would make it a law, then only eligible voters can vote. Photo ID is very important for voting, if Americans want to stop voter fraud, then they need to make it a requirement for all states.

“The Product of Immigrant Parents” One of the proudest achievements of my life is having the opportunity to continue my education at a college level, despite the fact that the odds were against me, through dedication and commitment I was able to channel it in a motivational manner. Throughout my life, I have constantly struggled with the being a Latina in a predominately white institution, my chances of prospering were limited-being also weighed down by my economic status. By my senior of high school, I was forced to deal with my financial situation and consider the possibility of not being able to further my educational career. Being a diligent worker, I was determined to channel my frustration in a manner that would benefit my educational

I’m an immigrant. I was born in Mexico and it was only until my parents decided to come to the United States that I am where I am. My mother tried to cross the border to come to the United States for the first time when I was still in her womb all by herself as my father was already in the Unites States working in order to provide for her in the way that he wasn’t able to do so by staying in Mexico. My mother was caught by immigration and was sent back. My mother was very disappointed because she knew that if she didn’t get me to the United States some way or another I wouldn’t get very far in life by staying in Mexico. My father returned back to Mexico when I was born and it wasn’t until I was 4 years old that they decided to try to cross the border once again. Although I was only 4 years old I remember the whole experience as if it was yesterday. The amount of fear of getting caught by immigration and having done everything for nothing was always in the back of my mind while going through the whole experience. Up to this day nothing has ever been as terrifying and nerve-wrecking as having to go through that whole experience especially for a 4 year old child but I will forever be grateful for the bravery and strength that my parents had to gather in