J.A.

Yale University, Class of 2010
California

I graduated in May of 2010 from Yale University with honors. For most people, graduation is a joyous, eagerly anticipated occasion, filled with flowers and family, smiles of success, of admiration. For me, it was a heart-wrenching experience. It’s not uncommon for recent grads to feel nostalgia, anxiety, and uncertainty during and following their graduation ceremonies. But what I felt then was something different, something more severe. I have spent the past four years at that elite institution, compartmentalizing a painful truth, carrying a deep burden and grappling with my reality – the reality that I. am. undocumented.

I came to the United States from an economically disabled, politically torn, third world country when I was 13 months old, and my parents, seeking economic and political stability, have been in the US for nearly three decades. I went to a public school K-12 and although I know no other home outside the United States and have never left the US since my arrival 20 years ago, I can be deported from my family and my home, at any given moment. Needless to say, my entire life experience is grounded in the US. Since the realization of my status several years ago, I have faced numerous obstacles including my inability to drive, to work, to obtain any state or federal identification and essentially to take a legitimate part in American society. Perhaps the most daunting challenge is my inability to travel and the fact that I must spend the holidays thousands of miles apart from my family and my home.

I have spent the past four years living somewhat sheltered from the harsh realities of my situation. Despite my looming status, my time at college was full of positive growth. I am eternally grateful for the opportunity I had to attend college and I fully recognize the barriers I have overcome in order to obtain such an astounding education. Yet, my situation is not unique. 65,000 undocumented students graduate each year and, ineligible for federal aid, these students, find it nearly impossible to obtain a college education. The US education system strives to develop in its students the abilities they need to contribute to society and yet despite my successful graduation, I am now barred both from fulfilling this goal and pursuing my own.

The transition from college to the “real world” is never easy and I realize ever forcefully, the tenacity of my situation and I once again must confront my harsh reality. Thousands graduate each year with their future and freedom restricted, their options nonexistent and now that I have graduated, diploma in hand, my own future will be greatly hindered. I remain cautiously hopeful that the DREAM Act may pass to address these grievances. As I have become more educated on intricacies of the current immigration debate, I realize the absolute necessity of advocating for change. My life and the lives of hundreds of thousands of other students are at stake. It is only through strategic collective action, that our lives can be legitimized, and my goals and dreams will materialize into reality. With every day that passes, my future and the future of thousands of students remains restricted.

Through no fault of my own, I have been denied many basic human rights that are essential to our understandings of the United States as a liberated nation based on progressive principles. I hope to share my story and to provide a human voice to the current immigration debate as I am now making the shift from college to the real world, where the only “papers” I have are my ivy-league transcript and degree – $200,000 papers (education that is rendered meaningless in a world of imposed political borders and social boundaries).
For now, I remain undocumented and unafraid.