When people immigrate they leave a life and family behind. They leave a piece of them or their foundation. I migrated here when I was 3 and I migrated with my main foundation, my mother. My mother though had her foundation of her father, but left in our home country her mother, sisters and brothers. We started out new in the USA and that’s what we wanted a new beginning, a fresh start. So we began I went to school and she did too and worked at night. Then one day she met my stepfather who moved us to a new city and we got a new place, I made my transition fast and loved our new life as a happy family. Soon my parents gave me a brother and though we were seven years apart we bonded like siblings usually do. Little did I know my mother was yearning for her family and wanted to return. It did hurt that I would leave all I knew in the US, but I also wanted to see my family again. One day my parents packed boxes and suitcases and we picked up our lives and set out to put our lives somewhere else on a map.
We relocated I got signed up for school and started again. I hated that beginning, my parents struggled to find work. My stepdad being from another country that was not my mother’s native country made it difficult for him to start. My mother tried to adjust but her wage was not enough to keep our family afloat. We began to sink, we began to swim towards our shore. The shore was the US, we paddled as fast as we could. We made it with emotional scars that run deep in our skin. The ocean to get back was treacherous and hurt us deeply. But we made it back to the place I’ve forever called home.
I learned that I was undocumented in my teen years and that grounded me in a way that can’t be explained. Imagine telling someone their life has not been all they thought and that they won’t be able to do exactly everything they’ve wanted. That’s what I felt and carried with me through my teen years. That was also when I heard that people like me could not go to college. I gave-up then, all my parents efforts could mean less to the angsty undocumented teen I was. I stopped, my grades dropped, and I was let go from a pristine program that I was allowed in based on grades. I was sent to my regular public school and I let my grades slip more. In my senior year I met a guy I loved and I cut classes since I didn’t care about life after high school. This led to me staying and extra semester in highschool and that guy didn’t even stay with me. Graduate I did after my mom told me if our struggle was really gonna be that meaningless. While finished my highschool, my mom found a college that accepted undocumented students. The only thing was… I could’ve been accepted into any college I chose. NOBODY knew that AB540 existed and AB540 would’ve got me into any college had my grades been as flawless as they began.